“No, that’s not necessary,” Poppy said through gritted teeth. Jon had to hand it to her, though. As pissed off as she was, her smile never faltered. “But with all due respect, I have a lot on my plate and I don’t think I could give this the attention it needs and deserves.”

“With all due respect,” Jon returned stiffly, “I never asked. The fact is, this company needs an accountant, one that is knowledgeable and a trusted member of their field, and you are the person I want on the job. Besides, I’ll be the one interviewing them. You just need to find them.” Through with this conversation, Jon stood. “I have utmost faith in you, Ms. Montgomery.” He led her to the door and followed her out.

“Mr. Bradshaw,” Poppy protested in a final effort to sway him.

Jon held up his hand, stopping her in her tracks. “The job is yours. Handle it how you see fit, Ms. Montgomery. I trust your judgment, but understand this, there isn’t a soul here I trust, nor any that have the time to take on this responsibility, aside from you. If you refuse it, you’ll be costing many people their livelihood. I don’t like being wrong, so don’t make me regret my decision.”

He stared at her pointedly, making sure she got the message loud and clear. He didn’t want to have to fire her, but he would. There was no room for softies in this business, only sharks.

“Whatever you want,” Poppy said. Pivoting on her heel, she stormed toward Felix’s office.

Shaking his head in mild amusement, Jon turned his attention to the young, blonde receptionist posted at the front of the office. “I’m heading out for the rest of the day. Hold all my calls and forward any important messages to my cell.”

“Will do, Mr. Bradshaw. Enjoy your evening.”

Jon rode the elevator down to the first floor. It was blazing hot when he stepped outside, and he hurried to his truck. Sweat had already begun to dampen his skin, making his suit cling to him. He tore off the blazer, tossing it into the passenger seat, and rolled up his shirtsleeves to get some relief from the heat.

With the air conditioning on full blast, he pulled out his cell phone once more. Finding no new messages, Jon tucked it away and pulled on to the road with determination. If the mountain wouldn’t come to Mohammad, Mohammad would come to the mountain.

As it turned out, Jon didn’t have to go to the mountain. He’d passed through two traffic lights when his phone buzzed. Reaching across the seats, Jon retrieved the phone from his suit jacket and put it on speakerphone.

Expecting it to be another business call, he answered in his usual gruff manner. “Jonathon Bradshaw speaking.”

“Hey, it’s me. Patti. Is this a bad time?”

Jon’s stomach dropped and his heart sped up at the sound of her sweet voice. “Patricia,” he drawled. “I was beginning to wonder whether I should start considering recasting my line.”

“Only been a week and already you’re thinking about fishing,” she teased.

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t be a very fruitful venture. I’ve never been much of a fisherman.” Now that he had her on the phone, relief swelled in his chest. Abandoning his original mission, Jon began to head for home.

“Is that so?”

Jon’s grin turned devilish. “It is. You see, I’ve never had much need to learn. The fish always just jumped into the boat.”

“Lucky man,” Patti said, playing along.

“Depends on how you look at it.”

Silence passed between them and Jon could practically hear her mulling over her words. Pulling into his reserved parking spot outside his condo, he waited patiently. “So, I was wondering…were you still interested in going out on another date?”

“Hmm,” Jon hedged. He stared blankly at the brick building in front of him, enjoying the moment where he held her in suspense. “You did make me wait an awful long time, but I guess I can let you take me out. Assuming you promise to make it up to me,” he tacked on.

“Oh, I think I can manage something,” Patricia said. “Pick you up at ten on Saturday?”

“Are you sure you’ll be ready in time?” he asked, referring to her state of undress when he’d gone to pick her up for their first date.

“It’ll mean keeping my distance from heavy machinery, but I’m sure I can arrange something.”

“Mm, what a shame. I kind of enjoyed the grease monkey look,” Jon admitted. “And where will you be taking me, Ms. Jacobs?”

“It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you, Mr. Bradshaw,” she said coyly.

Jon rubbed two fingers over his smooth chin. “What’s the attire?”

She hummed, pretending to think. “Very casual,” she decided.

“Jeans and T-shirt casual or business casual?” Jon had plenty of clothing hanging in his closet, but his dresser drawers came up short to an almost embarrassing degree when it came to anything less than top of the line. That was the danger in being wealthy. Everywhere you showed your face required nothing but the best from the cut of your hair down to the shoes on your feet. He longed for the casual style of his roots when he didn’t mind getting dirt on his knees or tears in his clothing. It sounded like Patricia was going to give that to him.

“Definitely jeans and a T-shirt,” she confirmed.

“Noted.”

“See you Saturday morning, then?”

“Count on it. Oh, and Patricia?” Jon said before she could hang up.

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night on your porch.”

“Me either,” she confessed.

“I can’t wait to kiss you again.”

“I can still taste you on my lips,” Patricia said.

Jon felt himself getting excited and decided it was time to cut it off before he lost control and drove to her place to finish what they’d started. “I’ll see you Saturday, and, Patricia?”

“Hmm?”

“Wear something short. If we’re going to be in public, I want those sexy legs at my disposal.”

“Okay,” came her breathy reply.

Jon ended the call and gathered up his jacket. His cock pressed firmly against his thigh as he climbed down from the truck and headed inside. If he were going to get through the next two days, he was going to need an ice-cold shower and some hard liquor.

Jon didn’t have hard liquor, but he did have ice-cold beer. Slumping down on the couch, he flipped on the television and settled in for some mindless evening programming. He’d made it halfway through an episode of Road Rules when his phone rang.

Leaning forward, he snatched the phone from the table, glanced at who was calling, and swiped the screen. “Hey, Mom,” he answered, “what’s up?”

“Nothing much,” she replied. “Just calling to check in and see how life is treating you.”

“Life is treating me great at the moment,” he said, grinning ear to ear as memories of Patricia in his arms came flooding back.

“I’m glad to hear that. And what about work? Have you found a new accountant yet?”

Jon’s lips thinned and he swallowed down a gulp of his beer. He was still a little bitter over that particular wrench, but there was nothing he could do about it aside from finding a suitable replacement. “No, nothing yet, but I have Poppy on the job so I can’t imagine it will take very long.”

“Poppy is such a nice girl,” his mother said passionately. “I really like that one. Is she dating anyone?”

Jon laughed. “Mom, don’t try to set me up. You don’t have the matchmaking gene. Besides, I’m pretty sure Poppy is spoken for.”

His Mom sighed. “Well, what a pity. I think she would have been perfect for you.”

Jon knew exactly who would be perfect for him, and it wasn’t Poppy.

“So your sister met someone,” his mom said, steering the conversation away from his love life. “He seems nice. I think he went to school with you,” she said, her voice rising in excitement. “Mike Sawyer?”

Of course he knew Mike. “Yeah, I remember him,” he said incredulously. “How could I forget? The guy used to spend the night damn near every weekend.” What he opted to leave out was the amount of trouble the two of them used to get into together. Even ten years later, he knew his mother well enough to know she’d have a fit if she ever found out about some of the things they used to do when the rest of the town was fast asleep.