this sneaky behavior, the only thing he was taking into account was his own clandestine plans.
If it were just her, she might…but it wasn’t just her. And if the adoption plans went well it would never be just her again.
Adam could promise to take her into account, but Josie didn’t have a choice, she had to think of Nathan first and do what was best for him. That meant keeping both the doors of her business and the lines of communication between herself and the Burdetts open. And if Adam didn’t like it, then…
A pang of guilt made her look in his direction just in time to see him point the way out of town, then step away from the silver car to reveal he had been speaking to a woman. A pretty woman. Poised. Even from this vantage point she gave off a sense of power and professionalism that Josie could never posses.
The woman started her car and pulled away from the curb.
“Dada.”
“Shh. Nathan,” she snapped.
The baby silenced.
“Mama’s not mad at you, honey, it’s just that…”
Adam got onto this Harley and took off, right behind the woman in the sleek sedan, without so much as a backward glance.
“I need to think.” She tucked the child close and hurried to the front door of her well-lit diner, mumbling as she did, “Now, where did I put Burke Burdett’s business card?”
Chapter Eight
“T hank you for meeting me out here on such short notice.” Adam extended his hand to Dora Hoag. A compact, athletic woman with short black hair and the kind of personality that made people around her feel as if they were always running behind the power-walking, Bluetooth talking, multitasking, no-quarter-asking executive.
“It’s just that once people know I’m in town it would only take a Web search to connect me to Global…”
“I understand your personal issues in all of this, Burdett.” She didn’t look at him when she spoke, so he was glad she’d used his name.
Dora tended not to look people in the eye unless they were her superiors or somebody she could get some good business out of. More than once Adam had almost commented on something she had said only to realize in the nick of time she was carrying on an electronic conversation and was hardly even aware of his presence.
She took only a moment to sweep her gaze over their surroundings.
Adam did the same.
He scowled that the half asphalt, half gravel parking lot that Adam had promised employees time and again they would finish off—only to have his father say it was fine the way it was—had not been fixed. And the long, low building painted buttery yellow and…well, the color had originally been called café au lait meant to evoke one of the flavors in their famed Crumble Pattie, had not been repainted in years. Now the butter color looked more like someone had mixed mud into vanilla ice cream, and the café au lait had sun-faded to a pinkish color not unlike the pancake makeup he’d seen elderly ladies wear to church. Separating the two colors was a border of bright blue-and-white checks and what was supposed to be an image of their lone product stamped like a large seal of approval to one side.
Corporate logos were supposed to be so easily identifiable that even without the red script “Carolina Crumble Pattie” emblazoned next to it, everyone who had ever seen the product would immediately recognize it. Adam had grown up making and eating that product and he still had no idea what the image on the building was supposed to be.
Luckily they had not used it in packaging or anything official. One of the ongoing battles Adam had had with his father was about that very image. Adam had suggested they tap a fresh-faced local girl for the image of “Carolina Pattie”—and as he recalled that, Josie came to mind. But his father had flatly refused, not because Conner believed in the power of the disproportioned artwork but because he loved the artist, his wife, Maggie Burdett.
Adam had to force down the lump in his throat then. He
If it were just her, she might…but it wasn’t just her. And if the adoption plans went well it would never be just her again.
Adam could promise to take her into account, but Josie didn’t have a choice, she had to think of Nathan first and do what was best for him. That meant keeping both the doors of her business and the lines of communication between herself and the Burdetts open. And if Adam didn’t like it, then…
A pang of guilt made her look in his direction just in time to see him point the way out of town, then step away from the silver car to reveal he had been speaking to a woman. A pretty woman. Poised. Even from this vantage point she gave off a sense of power and professionalism that Josie could never posses.
The woman started her car and pulled away from the curb.
“Dada.”
“Shh. Nathan,” she snapped.
The baby silenced.
“Mama’s not mad at you, honey, it’s just that…”
Adam got onto this Harley and took off, right behind the woman in the sleek sedan, without so much as a backward glance.
“I need to think.” She tucked the child close and hurried to the front door of her well-lit diner, mumbling as she did, “Now, where did I put Burke Burdett’s business card?”
Chapter Eight
“T hank you for meeting me out here on such short notice.” Adam extended his hand to Dora Hoag. A compact, athletic woman with short black hair and the kind of personality that made people around her feel as if they were always running behind the power-walking, Bluetooth talking, multitasking, no-quarter-asking executive.
“It’s just that once people know I’m in town it would only take a Web search to connect me to Global…”
“I understand your personal issues in all of this, Burdett.” She didn’t look at him when she spoke, so he was glad she’d used his name.
Dora tended not to look people in the eye unless they were her superiors or somebody she could get some good business out of. More than once Adam had almost commented on something she had said only to realize in the nick of time she was carrying on an electronic conversation and was hardly even aware of his presence.
She took only a moment to sweep her gaze over their surroundings.
Adam did the same.
He scowled that the half asphalt, half gravel parking lot that Adam had promised employees time and again they would finish off—only to have his father say it was fine the way it was—had not been fixed. And the long, low building painted buttery yellow and…well, the color had originally been called café au lait meant to evoke one of the flavors in their famed Crumble Pattie, had not been repainted in years. Now the butter color looked more like someone had mixed mud into vanilla ice cream, and the café au lait had sun-faded to a pinkish color not unlike the pancake makeup he’d seen elderly ladies wear to church. Separating the two colors was a border of bright blue-and-white checks and what was supposed to be an image of their lone product stamped like a large seal of approval to one side.
Corporate logos were supposed to be so easily identifiable that even without the red script “Carolina Crumble Pattie” emblazoned next to it, everyone who had ever seen the product would immediately recognize it. Adam had grown up making and eating that product and he still had no idea what the image on the building was supposed to be.
Luckily they had not used it in packaging or anything official. One of the ongoing battles Adam had had with his father was about that very image. Adam had suggested they tap a fresh-faced local girl for the image of “Carolina Pattie”—and as he recalled that, Josie came to mind. But his father had flatly refused, not because Conner believed in the power of the disproportioned artwork but because he loved the artist, his wife, Maggie Burdett.
Adam had to force down the lump in his throat then. He
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