dammit, she didn’t want him doing anything to the beach house she didn’t know about.
The past two days it had been nitpickery of the highest order. He was all over her about changing the rental management company, claiming they were the reason he’d needed to break the window. He wanted to fire Joe. He wanted to raise the summer rental rates and offer more weeks, which would mean less time there for both of them even if it meant more income. It was stupid stuff, pointless and done solely, she knew, to get under her skin. He’d also started needling her about updating the decor.
“Tell him to take a long walk off a short pier,” Mark suggested. “That’s what I told my last ex-wife when she wouldn’t leave me alone.”
Colleen frowned. “It’s not that simple, and you know it.”
Mark could be arrogant and wacky and inappropriate; he was also incredibly astute. “Come into my office.”
“I have a client at four—”
“Now.”
With a sigh, Colleen followed him into his office, where he waved her onto one of the weirdly squishy chairs in front of his desk. She cupped her mug in both hands, warming them. With the harsh winter they’d been having, Mark’s office had become almost impossible to keep above sixty-five degrees.
“Look. What’s it gonna take for you to boot him out of your life altogether? Get moving on? Start dating, for crying out loud? Beautiful woman like you, sleeping alone? No bueno . I’d have a go at you myself if I didn’t think it would get us both in all kinds of trouble.”
“Totally inappropriate,” Colleen scolded, but she smiled.
“So quit.” Mark sat back in his chair and propped his feet on the desk, his hands behind his head. “Walk out. Leave me and all this behind. Forge onward!”
She’d thought about quitting more than once, though she knew there was no way she would. Mark had given her this job when she needed to escape from a bad situation, and he’d done it to help her, not because she was qualified. No matter how she’d proven herself in the interim, she could never forget that.
“You don’t need me, you know,” Mark said. “You could go work anywhere.”
His words touched that soft and rotten place inside her that shamed her even as it formed a big part of her core. Her smile faded. “I know that.”
“This is a terrible place to work.”
It wasn’t. It was weird, and Mark was hard to work for sometimes, but she’d had worse jobs. She shook her head in silence.
“Steve’s an asshole, Colleen.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Mark stared at her, saying nothing. Colleen stared back. No way was she going to tell him about Jesse. Wild horses couldn’t have dragged it out of her.
“I met someone,” Colleen said.
Mark grinned. “I knew it! Tell Uncle Marky all about it. Is he a strong, powerful businessman with a penchant for rooms painted like cherries?”
“Um, no.” Colleen shivered as she thought of how Jesse had knelt for her, then got herself under control. She gave Mark a stern look. “And you’re not my uncle.”
“Doctor? Lawyer?”
“No!” She shook her head, trying not to laugh because that would only encourage him, and dammit, Mark could be totally out of line and completely nuts, but he was damned good at getting to the heart of things.
“He’s a professor. You always did like the smarty-pants types.”
“No.” She paused, then with a sigh, owned up. “He’s a bartender.”
Mark steepled his fingertips below his chin. “Ah. That’s quite a departure for you.”
“Don’t you judge him for being a bartender!”
“Are you sure you’re not judging him for being a bartender?” Colleen’s mouth closed with an audible snap. Mark grinned again. He shook a finger at her. “Ah, ah, ah. It’s not what a man does. It’s who he is that matters.”
“I don’t know who he is. Just that he’s a bartender. And he’s younger. And if you call me a cougar, I swear I will jump across that desk
The past two days it had been nitpickery of the highest order. He was all over her about changing the rental management company, claiming they were the reason he’d needed to break the window. He wanted to fire Joe. He wanted to raise the summer rental rates and offer more weeks, which would mean less time there for both of them even if it meant more income. It was stupid stuff, pointless and done solely, she knew, to get under her skin. He’d also started needling her about updating the decor.
“Tell him to take a long walk off a short pier,” Mark suggested. “That’s what I told my last ex-wife when she wouldn’t leave me alone.”
Colleen frowned. “It’s not that simple, and you know it.”
Mark could be arrogant and wacky and inappropriate; he was also incredibly astute. “Come into my office.”
“I have a client at four—”
“Now.”
With a sigh, Colleen followed him into his office, where he waved her onto one of the weirdly squishy chairs in front of his desk. She cupped her mug in both hands, warming them. With the harsh winter they’d been having, Mark’s office had become almost impossible to keep above sixty-five degrees.
“Look. What’s it gonna take for you to boot him out of your life altogether? Get moving on? Start dating, for crying out loud? Beautiful woman like you, sleeping alone? No bueno . I’d have a go at you myself if I didn’t think it would get us both in all kinds of trouble.”
“Totally inappropriate,” Colleen scolded, but she smiled.
“So quit.” Mark sat back in his chair and propped his feet on the desk, his hands behind his head. “Walk out. Leave me and all this behind. Forge onward!”
She’d thought about quitting more than once, though she knew there was no way she would. Mark had given her this job when she needed to escape from a bad situation, and he’d done it to help her, not because she was qualified. No matter how she’d proven herself in the interim, she could never forget that.
“You don’t need me, you know,” Mark said. “You could go work anywhere.”
His words touched that soft and rotten place inside her that shamed her even as it formed a big part of her core. Her smile faded. “I know that.”
“This is a terrible place to work.”
It wasn’t. It was weird, and Mark was hard to work for sometimes, but she’d had worse jobs. She shook her head in silence.
“Steve’s an asshole, Colleen.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Mark stared at her, saying nothing. Colleen stared back. No way was she going to tell him about Jesse. Wild horses couldn’t have dragged it out of her.
“I met someone,” Colleen said.
Mark grinned. “I knew it! Tell Uncle Marky all about it. Is he a strong, powerful businessman with a penchant for rooms painted like cherries?”
“Um, no.” Colleen shivered as she thought of how Jesse had knelt for her, then got herself under control. She gave Mark a stern look. “And you’re not my uncle.”
“Doctor? Lawyer?”
“No!” She shook her head, trying not to laugh because that would only encourage him, and dammit, Mark could be totally out of line and completely nuts, but he was damned good at getting to the heart of things.
“He’s a professor. You always did like the smarty-pants types.”
“No.” She paused, then with a sigh, owned up. “He’s a bartender.”
Mark steepled his fingertips below his chin. “Ah. That’s quite a departure for you.”
“Don’t you judge him for being a bartender!”
“Are you sure you’re not judging him for being a bartender?” Colleen’s mouth closed with an audible snap. Mark grinned again. He shook a finger at her. “Ah, ah, ah. It’s not what a man does. It’s who he is that matters.”
“I don’t know who he is. Just that he’s a bartender. And he’s younger. And if you call me a cougar, I swear I will jump across that desk
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