Joe struggled for words. It must’ve been hard to lose his son so young. “Well, it is a lot for one person,” he managed. “Even though you’re here, I see she’s taken on a hell of a lot. Probably more than she needs to.” He was pretty sure “delegation” wasn’t a word that existed in Tara’s vocabulary.
“You’re absolutely right. I’m glad you see that. Take some of the load off her. Let her have a life.”
“Uh…okay. But I’m not so sure she actually wants that.”
Tyrone scowled. “She doesn’t know what she wants. She should be doing what her sister is—charity work, hosting dinners for clients, looking pretty—not out getting dirty in the groves, trying to drum up business partnerships with people who don’t believe a woman can really know anything about olives.”
Well then. Joe rolled his lips in. Sitting at home looking pretty—nope, he couldn’t picture Tara going with that. He almost laughed. “She’s pissed off I’m here,” he said.
Tyrone nodded. “She’s mad at me, not you.”
Joe wasn’t so sure about that. Sure seemed like she was pissed as hell at him too. He still had that feeling of being squeezed from both sides and didn’t think it was going to get better. But again, he didn’t have much choice right now. He needed this job and he’d just have to try to make the best of it.
Guilt nudged him, though, at Tyrone’s statement that he wanted someone here to keep things going when he was gone. Joe would be long gone by the time that happened—his intention only to lay low for a while until he could go back to San Francisco and resume his career there.
He walked out of the building to the rear parking lot where he’d parked his car that morning. Christ, it seemed a lifetime ago after all that had happened today. He pulled out onto the side street, turned onto State Street and drove to his buddy’s place near the Mission.
Nick lived in a nice place a block off State Street, an older home he’d been renovating. He was already there, in the kitchen, slapping some ground beef into patties.
“Hey.” He looked up as Joe walked in the back door and grinned. “How was your first day on the job?”
Joe shook his head. “Strange. But interesting.”
“Wanna beer?”
“Hell yeah.” Joe strode over to the refrigerator and helped himself. He popped the top and took a long pull. “Ah. That’s good.” He leaned against the counter and watched Nick work. “What’re you making? Burgers?”
“Yeah. I thought we’d grill them. And I bought a salad at the deli.”
“Sounds good. What can I do?”
“Not a thing. Just relax and tell me about your day.”
Joe pondered that. “Well. The boss’s granddaughter is pissed off beyond belief I’m even there. And she’s hot as hell.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. He was almost as tall as Joe, leaner and rangier, with buzz-cut short, dark hair. “That makes it…awkward.”
“Yeah.” Joe shook his head. “She’s one angry woman.”
“What’s her problem?”
“Well.” Joe tipped the bottle to his mouth. “Apparently the old man doesn’t even want her there.” He shook his head, the tug of sympathy for Tara surprising him. “She’s brilliant. She’s telling me all this stuff she wants to do to expand the business, and it sounds like she knows what she’s talking about, but she tells me the old man doesn’t want to do it. Turns out he doesn’t think a woman can run the business. Must be tough—sounds like she’s trying to maybe fill in for her father, who died when she was fourteen and should have been the one taking over, but she’s being shut out.”
“I guess that would be reason enough to be pissed off at the world.”
“The thing is, the grandfather has some good points—says she needs to slow down, not rely so much on her instincts, and I can see that. She’s leaping ahead into big decisions without all the facts. And I’m caught in the middle.”
“Ouch. Sounds like a lose-lose situation.”
“Yeah,” Joe said slowly. “Yeah, it does.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Nick said. “Come on outside. I’m going to cook these babies up.”
They went out onto Nick’s deck where he had the gas grill already heated.
“I know the sister. Sasha Lockhart,” Nick said.
Joe studied his friend as Nick flipped the burgers, his face smoothed into an expressionless mask. What was up with that?
“Really,” he said.
Nick’s mouth tightened and Joe smiled. “What?”
“What, what?”
“What’s with her?” Joe grinned. “You hot for her? Is she a ball-buster like her sister?”
Nick choked. “Uh. No. She’s a spoiled society princess who spends her life getting manicures and going to parties.”
“No kidding.” Interesting. He eyed Nick. “Not your type, huh?”
Nick’s mouth twisted. “Not even close. She reminds me too much of Erin.”
His ex-wife, the social climbing bitch who’d dumped him when he’d changed careers from big money to no money. Well, Joe couldn’t blame Nick for not wanting to get involved with someone like that again.
But he couldn’t help but think Tara didn’t seem like a social climber. She seemed hardworking, intelligent, driven—but he didn’t get the impression it was about status.
“How the hell did you end up working in a youth center, anyway?” Joe asked as they sat down to burgers and potato salad.
Nick shrugged. “My law career was pretty short-lived. It just wasn’t for me. This job came open and I went for it. Gives me a chance to do something that feels good. The kids are amazing.” He shook his head, pausing with his thick burger in his hands. “I’ve learned more from them than from all my years of law school.”
Joe nodded. He couldn’t imagine voluntarily giving up the career he’d worked so hard for and felt that familiar twisting of his gut at the thought of what he’d lost. But hey, if Nick got more satisfaction from what he was doing, good on him.
“How long are you planning to stay here?” Nick asked.
“For a while. Don’t worry, I’ll look for my own place.”
“I’m not worried,” Nick said. “Just asking.”
“My plan is to get some new experience I can put on a résumé and get the hell back to San Francisco. The olive business is interesting, but it’s olives, for God’s sake.”
“Yeah. Olives.” Nick turned the corners of his mouth down.
“And no offense, but this place is not a big city like San Fran.”
“No, thank God, it isn’t.” Nick paused. “What about the hot granddaughter?”
“She needs a spanking.”
Nick laughed. “Well, if anyone can charm her into submission, it’s you, Stallion.”
Joe grinned at his old high school nickname. The Italian Stallion. God, nobody had mentioned that in years. It was good to be with Nick, someone he shared so much history with, someone he was totally comfortable with and someone he didn’t need to explain things to.
“She thinks she’s a Dominatrix.”
Nick lifted an eyebrow.
Joe wanted to tell Nick he’d met her at Le Château, but strict rules about discretion had been drummed into him about that kind of thing. “She thinks she’s the boss,” he said instead. “She even thinks she can boss me.”
Nick grinned back. “A challenge.”
“Oh yeah.”
The next day Tara sat Joe down in his new office, quickly set up by Paige while they were out at the ranch, with a bunch of stuff to look at. He was eager to dive in and learn more about the business, but it took less than an hour for him to realize he was wasting his time. With a groan of frustration, he went to her office, but she wasn’t there.
“Out at a meeting,” Paige told him with a smile. “Is there anything I can help you with?”