Cammie stayed an extra couple of weeks in San Juan Bautista. Ava had arranged a room for Cammie’s use while she’d cared for her uncle and hadn’t kicked her out even after Uncle Lochlan passed. She could never thank Dane or Ava enough for how much they’d both done. She’d known she couldn’t put her beloved uncle in an inferior home just because she was too proud to accept their assistance. And she would pay back every penny, even if it took the rest of her working life.
She still ached deep in her belly, but she’d lost Uncle Lochlan a long time ago. It had been years since he’d been the loving uncle of her childhood. The knowledge that he was at peace was her only solace. Wherever he was, his mind was once again clear, and he was himself.
This room had been her home for the last five months, decorated soothingly with a wallpaper border around the ceiling, landscape scenes on the wall, and a comfortable bed fitted with the finest linens and a warm duvet. Sitting at the desk, she went through the necessary paperwork.
She’d held no funeral for Uncle Lochlan. His friends were long gone, all except Clyde Westerbourne, who’d called to offer his condolences. “Oh my dear, I am so sorry. I know how hard this must be for you.”
The loss had been only a couple of days old when he’d phoned, and she’d felt the tears rising again. But she didn’t let them fall. “Thank you, Clyde. I miss him, but this was truly a release for him.”
“This may sound harsh right now, but I hope you see it as a release for yourself too, my dear. You’ve suffered, watching his decline.”
She didn’t want to admit it, but Clyde had known her so long. And he’d found Dane for her, the man he’d said would be the perfect employer.
Over the twelve years she’d worked for Dane, Clyde’s words had proven to be prophetic.
It was only with Dane’s comfort that she’d made it through the night of Uncle Lochlan’s passing. And every day since, she’d worked diligently on the estate, wanting the paperwork finished before she returned to Pebble Beach. Her uncle didn’t have much, since she’d sold the house and everything in it to pay for his care. But there were still government agencies to be informed and details to take care of.
The harder she worked, the more she was dying to get back to Dane. To get back to work. They’d already bounced around projects and ideas that might be good for the new merger.
Needing a break, she typed a quick text: Dear Lord Barnacle, have you seen Charlie Ballard’s work?
Of course Dane would have. He’d probably learned all about Charlie’s talents while chatting at the signing dinner.
He opened a video chat immediately. “Now I’m a barnacle?” he muttered, his face unshaven, as if he’d only just gotten up, though it was past ten.
She shrugged, suppressing a smile. “You can’t help it.” Then she rushed on to make her point. “I’m just wondering how we can incorporate Charlie’s artwork in some way at the resorts.” Then she thought of Ari’s background in child development. “And what do you think about Ari Tremont checking out the daycare facilities at the resorts and making sure they’re up to snuff?”
“As always, you’re my brilliant idea genie.”
She hoped his words hadn’t made her blush. Dane always filled her up. Someday, she hoped to run a project herself. She hadn’t been able to think about it while she had her uncle to care for. And she had to be completely honest with herself—being one hundred percent in control of a project was a little daunting. If anything went wrong, the burden would be on her shoulders. But one of these days, she’d do it. She just needed to get her feet under her after Uncle Lochlan’s ordeal.
What she really needed was to get back to Dane.
* * *
Practically the moment Cammie brought up Charlie Ballard’s work, Dane set up a meeting with her. And now, only two days later, he sat on a camp chair in Charlie’s studio on Sebastian Montgomery’s sprawling estate in the Hayward Hills.
Workbenches filled every wall, along with tool chests and stacks of supplies, barrels of nuts and bolts, and great wooden crates holding metal, ceramic, stone, and piping—anything Charlie could use to create her art. Despite the vast quantity of materials, the studio was the picture of orderliness, everything at hand or easily located.
Which was in complete contrast to the beautiful mess of a woman before him. Tendrils of curly red hair fell from a hastily secured knot on the top of her head. She wore stained overalls over a torn sweatshirt. But none of that mattered when her work was so pristine.
She’d removed her goggles and turned off the blowtorch when he arrived, but even as they talked, she assembled bits and pieces of what would become a…
“I’d like to say I know exactly what you’re making.” Dane leaned closer to the metal pieces covering the floor, as if that would help. “But I can’t tell.”
Charlie laughed, a musical sound that reminded him of Cammie. He couldn’t stop the errant thought that he wished she’d come back soon. But he had to give her these two weeks. After everything she’d been through, she needed the time.
Charlie eyed the metal surrounding her. “Eventually, it’ll be a cowboy on a horse roping a steer. It’s a commission for a Texas oilman.”
Dane snorted. “Of course he’s a Texas oilman. And his family were probably ranchers way back when.”
Charlie’s eyes twinkled. “How did you know?”
He shrugged. “Only an oilman from a ranching family would want a life-size sculpture of a cowboy and a steer.”
With that same twinkle, Charlie changed the subject. “Have you come here to talk about a Tyrannosaurus Rex for your yard?”
His thinking cap had definitely been on. “Depends on how big.”
“I haven’t seen your estate, but from the little I know of you, I don’t think you want something as large as the dinosaurs at the Flintstone House in Hillsborough.”
He’d passed by the house many times driving up Highway 280 on the way to San Francisco. Some people thought it an eyesore, but he found it charming, with its domed style and all the massive metal creatures populating its yard. “You’re right. Rex might be intimidated by something that big.” He grinned. “He needs something he can look down on and feel like he can vanquish.”
Charlie pursed her lips into a half smile. “I have the perfect thing.” She opened a pair of cabinet doors and waved him over. “These should be perfect for T. Rex. He can lord it over them.”
Dane couldn’t stifle the half laugh, half snort. “What the hell are they?”
She held one of the metal sculptures on the palm of her hand. “It’s a Zanti Misfit.”
He eyed her. “What the heck is a Zanti Misfit?”
Charlie rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you ever watched The Outer Limits?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“It was an old episode with Bruce Dern. Zanti Misfits are aliens who land in the desert with nefarious intentions.”
He looked at the creature, shaped like an ant with a huge, garish grin of metal teeth and bulging painted eyes. “That might be a bit too terrifying for Rex.”
Charlie snorted. “If Bruce Dern could vanquish the Zanti Misfits, you can be darn sure T. Rex will too.”
He laughed outright. “Charlie Ballard, you are one very odd woman.”
She smiled, accepting the compliment. “Thank you very much. I’ve never wanted to be normal.”
Then he added, “I need at least five.”
She waved her hand toward the cabinet as if she were a magician. “Take all you want.”
They still might terrify Rex, but Cammie would love them. “Thanks. That’s very generous.”
“I just make them when I need to think,” Charlie explained. “Making something I can practically create in my sleep frees up my mind to brainstorm other ideas.”
“That’s an interesting observation. I feel the same way about golf. It frees my mind to think.” Especially when he played with Cammie. Then, his mind could wander back to their first golf game, to that one night, her skin so sensitive, her touch on him so exquisite, her taste so sweet.
Damn, he needed to slap himself.
He dragged his thoughts back to why he’d asked for this visit. “Cammie and I are excited to talk to you about a new project we have in mind.” He opened his computer on Charlie’s workbench. “It was her idea, so I’d like to include her, if that’s okay with you.”
“Of course.”
Dane brought up the video app. Cammie answered, her face lighting up the screen as if she’d been waiting all day for his call. Dane suspected she was glad to step away from her uncle’s estate management.
“Hey, Charlie.” Cammie waved.
Charlie fluttered her fingers. “I’m so sorry about your uncle.”
Cammie blinked, as if she needed to hide the tears that suddenly pricked her eyes. “Thanks so much. I miss him, but I’m glad he’s not suffering anymore.”
“I understand completely.” Charlie would understand more than most, since she took care of her mother, Francine. She’d settled her in a Los Gatos facility, which happened to be one of Ava’s. The small bedroom community sat at the base of the Santa Cruz Mountains, and Dane knew Charlie was over there regularly. Of course, Francine could have lived with Charlie and Sebastian, but she claimed she wanted her independence.
Dane started the conversation. “Since it’s your idea, Cammie, why don’t you tell Charlie what you had in mind?”
Cammie huffed a breath. “It wasn’t really my idea. I just posed a question, and you ran with it.”
They’d brainstormed, tossing ideas back and forth, but using Charlie’s work at the resorts had come from Cammie. She didn’t even realize that she truly was his idea genie, no matter how many times he told her. Cammie’s touch was pure magic.
She jumped into the proposal. “We’d love to have you create a sculpture for the lobby of each of Dane’s resorts. Some of them have courtyards, some are marble entryways, some are open air. But we thought greeting his guests with an accent signifying the location of each particular resort would be amazing. A bald eagle for the Montana resort. A Joshua tree for the desert. But really, it should be whatever you feel is appropriate.”
Charlie’s mouth dropped open.
Cammie rushed on. “We wouldn’t expect this to take precedence over your other commissions. But if you’re interested, we’d like you to you work us into your schedule whenever you can.”
Something unfurled in Dane’s belly when she said we. They were a team. They always had been. But now, it felt as if she was finally taking partial ownership of the things they did together.
“Wow.” Charlie put her hand to her mouth. “That all sounds incredible.”
“The other thing we’d like you to consider,” Cammie went on, “is putting together some art classes. Since metalwork is your specialty, we’d create a workshop in some of our resorts where you could teach. The building could be whatever size you need, with room for your materials, as well as other types of art like painting, pottery, and so much more.”
The way her mind worked stunned him. They’d talked in general terms, but she’d dreamed up an extraordinary idea with more specifics than he could have imagined.
Cammie’s ideas just kept flying. “You could visit a different resort once a month, or whatever fits your schedule, and give a class, showing other people how to do what you do.”
Charlie’s face flushed, and with a beaming smile, she jumped off her stool, waving her arms. “I’d love to fly out to your resorts once a month. I can even take people shopping for junk. That’s what I use for raw materials. I love junkyards and flea markets. Then we can bring back the treasures we find and make art.”
She lunged at Dane, as if she wanted to hug him. “This is just amazing. Thank you so much for thinking of me. Sebastian will go wild.”
Dane held out his hands. “Don’t thank me. This was all Cammie.”
Charlie hugged the computer screen. “Thank you, thank you. I will absolutely love doing this.”
Cammie beamed. He hadn’t seen her eyes sparkle like this in months. His heart wanted to leap right out of his chest, and he, too, could have hugged the computer screen. He could have hugged Charlie as well, for making Cammie so happy.
When Cammie was happy, he was happy.
* * *
The next day, Cammie and Dane had a three-way video chat with Rosie. Once again, Cammie laid out their idea.
“You two stagger me.” Rosie’s eyes shone as brightly as Charlie’s had. “You really want my artwork in all the rooms of your resorts?”
Dane explained, “If you’re willing to take on the task. Nothing has to be completed right away, of course. We can make prints from the originals, so you don’t have to paint something for every single room.”
Laughing, she put her hand on her stomach. “This little one would be a college graduate by the time I finished an original for each room.”
“We wondered if you’d like to teach classes at different resorts too,” Cammie said. “Just one a month, or whatever you’re comfortable with. We’d like to offer an art program for our guests who want to learn.”
Tears shimmered in Rosie’s eyes, and her voice wobbled. “You’re both just freaking amazing. I’d love to do it. The art and the classes.”
“As long as it doesn’t interfere with your next show,” Dane assured her.
“Would you mind if I used some of those paintings?”
Dane nodded heartily. “The originals would all be yours. We’ll just use prints. That’s what will make this thing unique. They’ll be in your show, and we’ll promote them as being an eventual feature in the resorts. Two-way marketing.”
“Wow,” Rosie exclaimed. “I’m totally in. Thanks so much for this opportunity.”
When Rosie left the meeting ten minutes later, after talking logistics, Dane smiled at Cammie. “I’d say that went really well.”
The brainstorming had brought back her natural glow. Her smiles came more readily. Her enthusiasm shone in her eyes. “Exceptionally well,” she said, clasping her hands as if she couldn’t contain her excitement. “I’ll set up a meeting with Ari. We can tackle her about reviewing the resorts’ childcare facilities.”
Dane loved that Cammie was completely on board with the projects, doing most of the talking without even realizing how much ownership she was taking.
Cammie was back in the game. And soon, she’d be back physically as well. Back in his office and back in his house. Right where she belonged.