Radclyffe - Homestead

Clay tapped her fork on the tabletop, frustrated and more than a little angry. Tess’s unhappiness wasn’t her concern, couldn’t be her concern—her responsibility was to secure the drilling rights they needed so the project could go forward as quickly as possible. She wasn’t doing anything illegal, nothing she hadn’t done a hundred times before. This time, though, what had always been routine had become personal, and she couldn’t let it be. She rubbed her forehead as if to purge the self-recriminations, muttering her thanks when the waitress slid an enormous burger with fries in front of her. The place was filling up, and the noise level rose—a typical Friday night after a long workweek, everyone wanting to unwind. Clay couldn’t unwind the steel spring ratcheted tightly in her chest, but she managed to fill her head with the cacophony of voices so she didn’t have to think about what she had done or might need to do.

When she heard Tess’s unmistakable rich, faintly throaty voice, she thought she was imagining it again—reliving the conversation in the kitchen—until she glanced up and realized her mistake. Tess stood at the bar, her back to Clay, talking to a big man in work clothes. He gripped her arm loosely, looming over her, their heads close together. Tess didn’t look happy.

A surge of possessiveness Clay hadn’t experienced in years pushed its way into her throat, reverberating there like a growl waiting to erupt. She swallowed down the ire, pushed the remains of her burger aside, and drained her beer. She needed the support of these people, and Tess was not hers to claim. Neither rationalization helped counter the acid eating at her insides. Tess was hurting and Clay was helpless.

“Ready for another beer?” the waitress asked.

“Yes, thanks,” Clay said, not taking her eyes off Tess. While she watched, Tess glanced toward the door and smiled. Her face lost some of the worry lines that had been etched across her forehead and the corners of her mouth, and Clay automatically searched out who had put that look on her face.

Ella wended her way through the crowd and up to Tess, who said something to the man she was with and turned to face Ella fully, her fingers lightly grazing Ella’s forearm. Clay wanted to look away but couldn’t. Even seeing Tess with another woman was better than not seeing her at all. Ella laughed, nodded, and bent her head to murmur something into Tess’s ear. Tess smiled at whatever Ella had said and looked younger and more carefree than Clay had seen her all week. She wanted to be the one making Tess laugh, bringing pleasure to her face, and knew she’d lost that chance a long time ago. Abruptly, she stood, yanked her wallet from her back pocket, pulled out bills, and left a handful on the table. Unfortunately, she had to walk past Ella and Tess to get to the door.

With her uncanny sixth sense, Ella looked in Clay’s direction before Clay had gotten halfway across the room. Tess followed her gaze and the laughter left her eyes.

“Good evening, Ms. Sutter,” Ella said smoothly as Clay stepped up to them. “I was just saying to Ms. Rogers that this seems to be the place where all the important work is being done, and apparently that’s true.”

“I’ve got a few things to do yet tonight,” Clay said, practically shivering from the chill in Tess’s gaze. “Unfortunately, I’m going to have to do them back at the inn.”

“Of course. I’ll walk back with you.” Ella nodded to Tess. “I hope I’ll see you again soon.”

“Yes,” Tess said, carefully not looking at Clay. “I hope so too.”

“No need to leave, Ella,” Clay said. “You’re off the clock now.”

Ella smiled. “Thanks, but I wasn’t planning on staying.”

Clay knew Ella had come looking for her, but she wouldn’t say that in front of anyone else. “Why don’t you get something to eat first. I’ll wait while you order.”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Ella said. “I’ll get takeout.”

“Sure,” Clay said.

Ella slipped off in search of the waitress, leaving Clay and Tess staring at one another.

“She seems pretty extraordinary for just being your assistant,” Tess said, gesturing to the far end of the bar where Ella talked with the waitress. Soon the waitress was smiling and laughing as well.

“She is…extraordinary,” Clay said. “She’s also an exceptional assistant.”

“And what else?” Tess asked, annoyance prickling under her skin even as she spoke. She wasn’t certain what prompted the spurt of jealousy—that Ella was with Clay instead of her, or that Clay was with Ella. Ella was charming, and being around her for just a few minutes had sparked feelings Tess hadn’t experienced in a long time. Ella’s easy flirtations made her feel attractive and sexy, something she hadn’t realized she missed. Something she liked. But as soon as Clay appeared, Ella’s attentions had shifted. Clay had become her focus.

“She’s also security,” Clay said quietly.

“Security? You mean like a bodyguard?”

Clay shifted, looking a little uncomfortable and a little embarrassed. Tess couldn’t ever remember Clay being either.

Clay nodded. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Company policy. All the upper-management people travel with security.”

“Are you in danger?” Tess asked, her earlier anger at Clay dissolving into concern.

“No,” Clay said dismissively. “Like I said, company policy. And besides, Ella really is my assistant, and she’s very good at it.”

“Oh,” Tess said, “I don’t doubt it. She seems very…capable.”

“Is that what you were thinking?” Clay asked. “That Ella is capable?”

“What else?” Tess blushed. She wasn’t about to discuss Ella with Clay, especially when she wasn’t even sure what she was feeling. “Well. I should be going.”

“Tess,” Clay said, reaching for her hand. “I know you probably haven’t had much chance to think about what we were discussing earlier, but if we could—”

The man Tess had been speaking with at the bar crowded in next to them, his hard gaze fixed on Clay. “Everything all right, Tess?”

“Yes,” Tess said quickly. “Everything’s fine.”

“You the person in charge from NorthAm?” the big man said to Clay.

Clay straightened. “That’s right. And you are?”

“The name is Pete Townsend.”

“Mr. Townsend,” Clay said, extending her hand. “Good to meet you. I’ve been looking forward to talking with you—”

“I’m not sure we have much to discuss,” Townsend said. “Unless you’re about to tell me you’re planning to pick up and move somewhere else.”

Clay let her hand fall. “I’m afraid that wasn’t my plan, no. Maybe I can drop by tomorrow—say eight a.m.?”

“It’s your time.” Townsend turned to Tess. “You’ll let me know about that other thing.”

“I will. Good night, Pete.” Tess waited until he was out of earshot. “He’s not a fan of yours.”

“I gathered,” Clay said.

“Tempers are running a little hot right now,” Tess said quietly. “Be careful.”

“I’ve been through this before, Tess, but thanks. I appreciate you worrying about me.”

“I’m not worried about you,” Tess said. “I just don’t want to see the community turned upside down by this.”

“Right, I should’ve known that.”

Ella joined them, a takeout bag in her hand. “Ready to go, Ms. Sutter?”

Clay looked at Tess as if waiting for her before answering. Tess cut her gaze from Clay to Ella and said, “If you really are interested in a tour of the farm, come by tomorrow morning.”

“I am,” Ella said warmly, “and I will if I’m free.”

“Good,” Tess said, ignoring the flare of heat in Clay’s eyes. She liked Ella Sorensen and she had every right to her feelings. The idea of spending time with an attractive woman who seemed interested in her made her feel good. For the first time in a long time, she was going to do something for no other reason than it gave her pleasure.

They walked half a block in silence before Clay said, “I didn’t know you were interested in farming.”

Ella shot her a glance, her stride never faltering. “Since we’ll be up here for a while, I thought it would be useful to get a sense of the local community. And Tess’s farm is right in the middle of things.”

Fighting off an irrational urge to challenge Ella’s reasons, Clay slid her hands into her pockets where her fingers curled into fists all on their own. She’d been itching for someone to pound on, metaphorically at least, ever since she’d read Ali’s reports and realized she was going to have to go after Tess’s land. Seeing Tess in the tavern with Ella and being pretty much dismissed by Tess hadn’t helped. Her hackles were up and she wouldn’t need much of an excuse to growl. Except Ella wasn’t the enemy. “Are you trying to tell me you’re doing a little covert industrial investigation?”

Ella laughed. “I’m no spy. Besides, you don’t need that kind of help. If there’s something you need to know, you know how to find it out.”

Clay stopped and leaned against an old-fashioned iron light pole with an actual working incandescent bulb shining from behind a frosted oval globe. The lamp cast a pale yellow circle on the sidewalk that slid over the curb and into the street. Clay’s shadow cleaved it in half. “Personal interest?”

The laughter faded from Ella’s face as she studied Clay with a speculative gaze. “I didn’t realize there was an issue here.”

“There’s no issue.”

“History?”

“Not for so long it’s not even this lifetime,” Clay murmured more to herself than to Ella. After the day she’d lied to her father and said her relationship with Tess was nothing serious, she hadn’t disclosed a single minute of what they’d shared with anyone. Tess’s past was hers to tell, if she wanted.