Cedar Lane Properties—The Wallace Brothers

Chapter 9

Mike couldn’t stand to see a woman cry. That was the only explanation he had for inviting Crystal to go with him. He didn’t regret it though. Having her in his peripheral vision was more calming than he might have predicted and the small talk came easy, too.

Mike tried not to notice how the profile of her face was both strong and feminine all at once. Her nose sloped down gently then turned ever so slightly up over full, but not Angelina Jolie plump, lips. The width between the base of her head to her chin looked about right for the size of his hands. The curve of her jaw would fit perfectly there.

He tried not to notice how the scoop of her t-shirt—a women’s style in teal, not a man’s loose fitting one like she’d worn the first few days—exposed the tops of her generous boobs or how the sunlight seemed to make them glow. Those would fit nicely in his hands, too.

How could I not notice?

He focused on conversation. Mike learned that despite being bounced around from home to home as a child, Crystal had been treated fairly well by the families that took her in. Her favorite foster family had owned a construction business she helped out with until the father had caught his wife cheating and filed for divorce. Crystal had hoped to be adopted by them.

Mike knew this meant she had adaptation skills, but not necessarily healthy ones. Only time would tell and as such, he decided to give her the highlights of his job offer. Some people could adapt in moments. Others needed time to process. To his way of thinking, the woman who seemed to fit so naturally in the passenger seat of his F-150 had experienced enough on the spot adaptations. Confident everything would work out with her ID, he could give her a chance to ease into things.

“Let me get this straight. You want to hire me to help build, decorate and then manage a new property with you?” She was laughing!

And then it hit him—he’d unintentionally made his job offer sound like a Tinder profile. Ok, maybe it wasn’t so much unintentional as it was subconscious.

“Damn,” he groaned. “That sounded like a desperate bachelor cry for help, didn’t it?” She laughed harder.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, obviously trying to control her giggles. “I think I’m just stressed out. I went from practically being held captive to being at the mercy of an attractive Viking and—“ she snorted, then launched into more giggles before stopping abruptly.

The color drained from her face. “I—I didn’t mean to admit that.” Horror colored her face in red splotches.

Now probably isn’t a good time to point out your earlier faux paux when you called her beautiful. Think quick!

“Well I am very proud of my Viking heritage so I’ll take that compliment!” He was rewarded by the return of her smile.

Unsure of whether he’d expertly avoided the crisis or if the sight of volunteers walking dogs that had just come into view was the reason she relaxed, Mike was thankful either way.

“We’re here,” he announced for no reason. Crystal had eyes and could see for herself.

She helped him carry in the bags of old linen, food, litter and cleaning supplies. He decided now was not the time to pull the “man card.” This was probably the most useful she had felt in some time. He stored that mental note away for later.

So unlike Natalie who expected everything to be done for her. We definitely missed the red flags there.

A puppy squeaked from the tote behind the counter. When he was here two weeks ago. staff were caring for a runt.

“Is that the same one?” He asked.

“It sure is,” Rebecca answered and scooped the wriggler out. His eyes were open now. “He’s doing much better now, but adamant about being fed on schedule. You wanna hold him again?”

He did, but he was afraid he’d have a hard time walking away. Fourteen months had gone by since Rowdy, the unofficial Cedar Lane mascot, had passed and Mike found it difficult to replace him. This little runt had been tugging at his heart the last two weeks.

“Dammit,” he muttered. “Hand him here.” He knew what Rebecca was up to no matter how hard she tried to hide that sly grin. “I suppose you’re going to hand me a bottle, too. Well, do it already.”

“He’s eating soft food now.”

Oh jeez. They’re ready to home the brat now, too.

“You made me hold him on purpose,” Mike tried unsuccessfully to growl.

Crystal was leaning over his arm to pet the pup. “I didn’t hear you protest,” she teased.

“I didn’t either,” Rebecca seconded. If she wondered about Crystal, she didn’t try asking verbally or non verbally. He often brought someone with him, but it was usually a male guest or a woman with children. Word traveled fast though. The locals probably heard about Ames on the news.

“This is Crystal. She’s new in town.” A simple explanation was all that was needed.

“Hi. I’m Rebecca. I’m the director here.” Crystal turned to shake hands, leaving his arm feeling cold where her electric touch had been.

The puppy voiced his displeasure at not being fed.

“Well aren’t you just the little squeaker,” Crystal laughed.

And that’s how Mike wound up shelling out the $200 adoption fee for Cedar Lane’s new mascot, Squeaker, who rode in Crystal’s lap on the way back.

**

She’d had to leave all the previous dogs in her life behind. Crystal didn’t know what the future held for her, but she heard her inner child promising Mike to help take care of the pup the next few days, at least.

Crystal was careful not to speak too much about the future. Plans changed. Adaptation was essential.

The mail had arrived with both pieces from Mike’s siblings. The one from Mark—Deputy Wallace—confirming her identity with official printouts from the State of California, would probably prove the most helpful. She brought Marissa’s as well. Just in case.

Since the late April day threatened to become hot, Squeaker had been left in Joey and Edna’s care. The first stop, the social security office. The bleach had ruined her folder of personal documents. Both Crystal’s social security card and birth certificate were in the folder. The local health department for a new birth certificate was next. Luckily, she’d been born in Missouri, or she would have had to apply online with the appropriate state. She borrowed the money from Mike, carefully tucking the receipts into the backpack she now carried.

She knew she was being stubborn. She knew $35 didn’t mean a lot to Mike. She reasoned, though, that if he let every guest take him for $35 a week, he’d be out roughly $10,000 per property.

She told him this while they waited at the DMV. His green eyes widened as he thought about this.

“I never thought of it that way,” he told her. “You’ll be a great manager.”

“I accept winning that round,” she teased him.

She gave up trying to figure out why Mike felt so easy to be around. She didn’t dare torture herself wondering why he was still single. He hadn’t given her the details of the job offer in print yet, but she knew the gist of it.

A week of training in St. Louis, then move to far northeastern Missouri. The lodge was being built on a 200 acre plot near the Iowa border. The main building would host 8 suites, not including staff and office quarters, 8 smaller cabins and 8 RV spots. If she accepted, she would live in one of the smaller cabins until staff quarters in the main building were completed. It would mostly be the two of them other than a skeletal crew that would handle electrical and plumbing projects. Mike Wallace enjoyed doing most of the building himself.

He admitted he had been under the subconscious assumption he would take on a man as his business partner until she came along. He apologized for being sexist.

“I don’t think there’s any need to apologize,” she explained. “I’ve spent the last several years in liberal California where I do agree with some social justice ideas, but I don’t think it’s sexist to associate hunting and lodges with the male gender. That’s the biggest percentage of your target audience. If you had refused to consider another gender as your business partner, then that would have been sexist.”

He laughed, “I haven’t told you that so far, the other five applicants—all male,—all had some critical reason why I wouldn’t hire? One had a DUI, one had a drug paraphernalia charge and the other three listed references who flat out said Hell no I wouldn’t rehire that dumbass!”

Crystal knew at that moment she would accept the job offer. Something about this man intrigued her and she felt that if she declined, she would be leaving something important behind.

She waited until she had her new ID in hand and was back in his office, with details in print, before she agreed out loud.