Maddy's Oasis

Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

Madeleine made an effort to remain in the trailer and away from anywhere Jake would be. He was the first man she had ever not dated to earn the title of Bastard. She sent Eric with messages for him, ignored his two attempts to call, and went so far as to rename Duke with a more fitting name: Princess.

The next few days passed as a blur. She worked harder and longer to find a way to stretch the funding, to find more funding, to organize Mr. Howard's visit, and to make things work. She found herself forgetting to eat and getting up from the desk only to refill the generator or let Duke out.

She pulled out of the haze after an accidental long nap on the tenth morning of their journey to the desert. Eric tapped on the door and entered wearing jeans, a Javier and Sons Construction T-shirt, and boots.

She glared at him from her position behind the desk. He tipped the rim of his cowboy hat and offered a smile.

“You’re late,” she stated in a hard tone. “And inappropriately dressed.”

“Maddy, I’ve destroyed two pairs of very expensive dress shoes and two pairs of suit pants. Jake suggested I—”

“Fine. Princess needs to go out.”

Eric beamed a smile, looking rested and relaxed in his new gear.

She felt grimy and grisly in the suit she had slept in. She was running short of suits and had neglected to pick up those at the dry cleaners for two days. She needed a decent shower after three days of the trickle in the office’s bathroom, and she wanted nothing more than to sit down at a diner somewhere for a decent meal.

But it was a mere three days until Mr. Howard visited. She had toured the emerging lobby with astonishment and satisfaction; it seemed to be coming along very quickly. At the rate they were building, she wondered why it would take four months to complete the remainder of the building.

Ah, and it was the remainder of the building that bothered her. Nigel wanted the project to look as complete as possible, but there was no way to hide the fact that there was nothing but beams everywhere else. She strained to think of an alternative and was about to start pacing for the fourth time that morning when the door opened.

“Eric, my dry cleaning is—”

And she stopped, staring in surprise at the well-dressed man before her.

Nigel’s deputy, the man who dumped her and took her job, stood in the doorway. Mark Branson was tall and athletic and wore his suit like a king wore his robe. His hair was brown, his eyes bright green, and his aristocratic features as hard as granite. He looked around with distaste. A leather briefcase was tucked beneath one arm, a bottle of water in his other hand.

“Mark!”

“Madge.”

Despite how she had once fawned over the man before her, she had always hated his nickname for her.

“This is an interesting set-up,” he said, and entered. Duke bounded into the office behind him and began to snarl.

“Friend!” Madeleine and Eric cried at once.

The dog sat.

“Quite a set-up,” Mark reiterated.

Eric looked at Madeleine in surprise.

"You’re three days early,” she said uneasily. “Or has Mr. Howard’s schedule changed?”

Mark gave a smile that had at one time wiped her off her feet.