Ten minutes later, Adam hung up the phone.
“I take it the news is bad?” Trish asked.
He glanced over, noticed her look of concern and realized that he was grateful she was so in tune with him and his business. It felt good to have someone on his side. Almost instantly, he brushed that odd feeling away and stood to pace.
“Yeah, it’s bad news,” he said, walking across the room to the coffeepot. He poured himself a cup and held the pot out to Trish.
“No, thanks,” she said, still wearing that look of consternation. “Did someone get hurt at Fantasy Mountain?”
“No,” Adam said immediately. “You read the letter, right?”
“Yes,” she said, making a face. “But the legalese made my eyes cross.”
“I know what you mean.” Adam chuckled and sat back down at his desk. “But I assure you, nobody was hurt.”
“Then what happened? Can you discuss it?”
“Yeah. The ADA guidelines weren’t followed for the parking structures.” He set the coffee mug on the corner of his desk.
“ADA is the Americans with Disabilities Act?”
“Right,” Adam said, impressed that Trish had heard of the federal act. He’d had to explain it more than once to Cheryl when she’d first started working for him. “We make every effort to comply with the ADA, not only because we don’t want to get sued, but also, more importantly, because we want everyone to be able to enjoy the experience our resorts have to offer. It’s a no-brainer. But somehow, the subcontractor who built the parking structure didn’t comply with the guidelines.”
“The guidelines tell you how many spaces you need for handicapped parking and that sort of thing?”
“Right,” Adam said, pleased once again that she was aware of the issues involved. “It’s a lot more complicated than that, though, right down to the angles of curbs and degrees of slope, the width of sidewalks, the height of sinks in the bathrooms. I could bore you to tears with all the details. But the bottom line is, the crew building the parking lot screwed up.”
“How did this lawyer find out about it?” she asked, pointing to the letter.
“Good question,” Adam said, taking another sip of coffee. “There are organizations that make it their business to check out new facilities like hotels, shopping centers, public spaces, to make sure that the ADA guidelines are followed to the letter. That way, they can assure their members that they’ll have access to all areas.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“Yes, it is,” he said, and ordinarily he had no trouble with the inspections. Because the Dukes had never had a problem. Until now. “So now we’ve got to get it fixed before the resort opens.”
“Can it be done that fast?”
“That’s what the phone call was for. Bob’s already on it. In fact, he’s more furious than I am. He’ll get the subcontractor back there to clean up their mess. I want them to start as soon as possible, but before anything can happen, this lawyer wants to survey the site with us and point out everything that’s wrong.”
She gave him an understanding smile. “You don’t like lawyers.”
“They’re a necessary evil,” Adam said, shrugging. Then he grinned. “Besides, my lawyers can beat up anyone else’s lawyers any day.”
Trish laughed. “I’m sure they can.”
As pleased as he was to have made Trish laugh, he quickly sobered. “I don’t want to make light of this situation. I grew up with plenty of handicapped kids in the orphanage, so I know the problems they face.”
Whoa, where had that come from?
He rushed to change the subject even as Trish’s eyes widened in sympathy. “So while this problem is stupid and annoying, it’s not irreparable.”
She nodded slowly, but didn’t say anything, and Adam knew that if he could’ve kicked himself, he would have. He’d never made a slip like that before. What was he doing, talking about the orphanage to someone outside of his own family? It was none of the world’s business what his life had been like before Sally Duke had intervened. Sure, reporters had dug out the truth in the past, but he preferred never to discuss it at all.
“We’ll need the jet,” he said abruptly.
She blinked. “We have a jet?”
He simply nodded, then punched up his calendar on the computer. “Yeah, we’ve got a jet. I’ll need you to call and book it for Wednesday morning.”
She snapped back into business mode and began writing in her notepad. “Wednesday morning. Where and when?”
“Let’s make it eight o’clock. Leaving Dunsmuir Airport and traveling to the Fantasy Mountain airstrip. They’ve made the flight before. Let them know what you want for breakfast, and tell them I’ll have the usual.”
She looked up, mystified. “The usual? Wait. Breakfast? Me? Why?”
He grinned as she tripped over her words. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
She shook her head in exasperation. “You don’t need me to go with you.”
“Of course I do,” he said, breezing over her protest. He strolled to the wet bar, placed the coffee mug in the little sink, then casually added, “And pack an overnight bag.”
“What?” She jumped up from the chair and blocked his way back to his desk. “Why?”
He gazed into her beautiful, leaf-green eyes and almost forgot what they were talking about. Almost. “It might be a long day. We could get stuck on the mountain. You never know about the weather in November.” He could hear the tension in his own voice and wondered why a discussion of travel arrangements made him feel as horny as a high school kid.
“I suppose,” she said slowly, but she didn’t look at all convinced. She obviously didn’t want to go to Fantasy Mountain, but the more she protested, the more he wanted her with him. She was so close, he itched to take her in his arms and fuse her body to his. But that probably wouldn’t help his cause just now.
“Besides bringing you up to speed on the ADA issues,” he explained, “this’ll be a good time for you to take a look at the space for the opening-night festivities.”
“Really, Adam, I don’t see why…” Her shoulders slumped and she blew out a breath.
Adam stared at her for a moment. “Trish, are you afraid of flying?”
“Of course not,” she said indignantly, her chin held high.
“Good. Be ready to leave at eight o’clock Wednesday morning.”
“Fine.”
He sat down at his desk again and said, “We’ll go over your notes for the opening-night festivities while we’re in the air next week. I won’t have time to do it until then. And right now, I need you to pull some files.”
Once Trish left the office, Adam could breathe again.
Pensively, he stood up, strolled to the wide bank of windows and stared out at the coast. He’d been walking an increasingly narrow tightrope over the last few days, trying to keep his mind on business despite being barraged by sexual fantasies that featured his attractive new assistant.
“Dammit.” He couldn’t blame Trish. She was efficient, discreet and intelligent. She seemed to have a good sense of humor. Adam noticed he’d been laughing a lot more lately and wondered if too much laughter was rotting his brain.
The woman was not only good at her job, but actually seemed to care about him. Hell, she even made sure he ordered something healthy for dinner every night he worked late. She’d stood her ground on the health food issue again last night and he’d admired her style while at the same time he’d debated whether he could rip off her clothes, throw her onto his couch and satisfy his true hunger.
Adam had already identified the problem. Lust. Pure and simple. He knew it. He just didn’t know what to do about it. Well, no, actually, he knew exactly what to do about it, he thought ruefully. He just couldn’t figure out when he would have a free minute to find a willing woman and satisfy that particular itch until the Fantasy Mountain resort was a done deal.