So Tough to Tame (Jackson Hole 3)

All expenses for previous months have been included in the development and construction budget.

Charlie groaned and rubbed both her hands over her face. Maybe it didn’t matter if she was rushed. What the hell could she tell from one month’s worth of expenses anyway?

She didn’t like it, she didn’t want to be rushed, but the truth was that it had nothing to do with Keith Taggert. She was still shell-shocked from Tahoe, and she’d promised herself that she’d set that aside. She wanted to do her job well, be thorough and not assume that everyone in the world was trying to screw her over.

Keith was rushing her, but the resort was opening soon. Everything was rushed. She needed to be a big girl about it.

The bottom line was that the budget seemed to be in the black, and the expense report numbers lined up fairly closely with the budget numbers.

Two hours later, she’d looked at the expenses up, down and sideways. At least now she could tell herself she was ready for next month.

Someone passed quickly by her office, and when she glanced up in surprise, Keith Taggert’s head popped into view as he backtracked. “Oh, hi, Charlotte. You’re still here.”

“I am. Just finishing up the expenses.”

“Everything look good?”

“Everything looks great!” she said, adding extra enthusiasm to cover her irritation.

“Good.” He stood there for a moment while they smiled at each other.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Nope. I was just making the rounds before I leave.”

“Great. Okay.” She fiddled with the mouse. “I’ll just get this to accounting, then.”

He waved goodbye and left while Charlie typed up a quick approval of the budget and sent it off. She then printed out the documents, signed them and stuck them in a manila envelope to drop off on her way out.

At least she had the numbers in her head for the next managers’ meeting. And at least she could go home.

She’d meant to call her brother and ask if he could meet for dinner, but it was after eight now. Tomorrow maybe. Tonight...God, tonight she wanted to run right home and jump Walker’s bones. She wanted to text him and tell him to strip down and shower up and she’d be right there. But Merry had texted at seven-thirty and proposed pizza and margaritas with a few of the girls, and that was a good thing. After last night’s tension, it was good

to make Walker wait. He could spend his evening wondering if she’d really take him up on that drink.

Charlie packed up and started making a mental list of margarita makings she’d need to pick up. And then she’d have to find her big pitcher. It was probably still in a box somewhere like half of her other things. And how in the world was she going to find her citrus juicer?

Charlie had already locked her door and was turning away when her brain ejected a stray thought, nicely packaged and wrapped with a shiny ribbon.

She froze and frowned down the hallway toward the elevators. Then she swiveled her head and looked toward the surveillance room.

Where had Keith been heading when he’d passed her office?

She stood straight and frowned down the hallway. He’d definitely been walking toward the surveillance office, and there wasn’t anything of interest past it. But after he’d spotted Charlie, not only had he stopped, but he’d turned around and walked back in the other direction.

She walked to the surveillance room and looked in. Most of the monitors were dark and no one was on duty. There was no need to watch the monitors. If someone from the construction crew dared to steal anything, it would be right there on the hard drive in the morning.

She walked the rest of the hallway, just to be sure she wasn’t forgetting anything, but there was nothing here that should’ve interested the owner of the resort. He’d said he was just making the rounds, but she didn’t remember seeing him down here after hours before.

Charlie stopped to look at the monitors one last time.

Was he spying on his wife? Were they playing some sick game of trying to ruin or control each other?

More important...couldn’t Charlie just get a normal damn job for once?

“God. I need a drink,” she groaned. Luckily, she knew just where to get one.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN