Bailey was running late. She hated running late. Hated it. But it was becoming more of a habit than she would like. This morning, an estimate walk-through had run over when one of the other general contractors bidding the job wouldn’t stop asking dumb questions, the answers to which were already in the request for proposal sent out by the property manager. They didn’t all need to be standing there for it, but Bailey hadn’t wanted to be the one to pipe up and say she had to run. That wouldn’t look professional. But it was great that the property manager had kept telling the GC that “As stated in the Request for Proposal…” or “Included with the RFP was…”
Bailey suppressed a laugh thinking about it again, knowing that the GC had pissed off the property manager; no way was he getting awarded the work unless he came in significantly below everyone else. And even then, Bailey was pretty sure the property manager was so annoyed that she would fight the selection of this GC even if he was the lowest. She was feisty and actually one of Bailey’s favorite clients.
When she hurried into the lobby of the downtown JW Marriott, Bailey scanned the cavernous space, looking for the A-frame sign that would point her in the direction of the ballroom for the POWRE event. She didn’t see one at first and panicked that it wasn’t even at the JW, then saw a coat check at the top of the escalators and decided to check up there. Happily, her intuition was correct. She was taken aback, however, to see a seating chart assigning the attendees to particular tables for the lunch program.
The desk attendant called, “If you want to come check in with me, your table number is on your badge, and I can direct you so you don’t have to waste your time there.”
“Oh great,” Bailey said with relief. “I didn’t realize how busy this event was going to be. I didn’t mean to run this late, but my last meeting ran over.”
“You’re at table twenty-two,” she told Bailey. “Go in those doors on the far right, and then walk up that side. You’re at the table three rows from the back on the end. I think everyone else at your table has checked in, so there should be one empty seat. The formal program hasn’t started yet.”
Bailey felt a surge of relief knowing she wouldn’t be interrupting a speaker. She really would’ve hated that. “Thank you so much, Liesel,” she said after checking the woman’s badge.
She snuck into the back of the ballroom. Liesel was right. They were serving salads but the formal program hadn’t started. She counted tables up the side of the room, finding hers easily. As she headed that way, she saw the back of a very familiar blond lob that, if she was correct, would not be happy to see her. And, of course, the only empty seat was directly to the blonde’s left. When someone at the table said something funny, she laughed and turned just far enough to confirm Bailey’s suspicions. Skye Kohl.
Hell. This was going to be an indigestion-inducing lunch.
Which would make two meals in the last twenty-four hours where her digestion had been affected by Skye. As yesterday had worn on, the look in Skye’s eyes before she’d walked away had continued to unsettle Bailey. She’d been so confident after seeing the way Skye had run her hand over Jason’s arm, but her horrified expression when Bailey had called her out had her second-guessing her assumptions. And had perhaps exposed underlying biases that she wasn’t proud of.
By last night, Bailey had come to the conclusion that, although she didn’t condone flirting with subcontractors to get her way or going around Bailey to make requests of her subs directly, she’d been in the wrong with her last barb. Bailey was embarrassed to admit that her experience with Mary and resultant sensitivity to cheating had likely played a part in her reaction.
Even more than she hated being late, she hated being wrong. And she hated apologizing. Unfortunately, she needed to do it now. She’d been hateful, and that wasn’t who she was at her core. She just thought she’d have a little more time before running into Skye and having to do it.
Alas, that was not to be, so Bailey put one foot in front of the other, dodging the occasional server carrying trays of salads, and headed to her seat. Perhaps it would be better this way so there wouldn’t be any lingering awkwardness the next time they saw Ellie together.
“Is this seat taken?” Bailey asked, placing a shaky hand on Skye’s shoulder and leaning so she could be heard over the noise.
Several emotions flashed across Skye’s face, startlement to irritation to resignation. “No, if the assignments were correct, I do believe it belongs to you. I’d been hoping you’d decided to sit somewhere else. Or skip the event altogether,” she said with a grimace, disdain prevalent in her tone.
Bailey felt nauseous and knew she deserved the ire but still didn’t like it. She liked to be the one grimacing at their interactions, not the one causing a grimace. No, that train of thought didn’t make sense. She should prefer that they get along or at a minimum, not want to strangle each other.
Skye turned back to the woman on her other side, but Bailey stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I owe you an apology. I’m truly sorry for—”
“Can we not do this now?” Skye snapped. “I’m in the middle of something.” She gestured to the rest of the table with a subtle tilt of her head.
“Of course,” Bailey said, chastened. “But perhaps I could buy you a coffee or a glass of wine after this?” She felt compelled to clear the air as soon as possible. They did have to work together, and Bailey felt like a shit.
“Fine,” Skye conceded. “But you’d better watch where you place your hand. What might people think?” She looked pointedly at Bailey’s hand—the one Bailey had forgotten she’d placed there—and then back up.
Shame flooded Bailey at the deserved jab. She yanked her hand away as if the temperature of Skye’s jacket was seven hundred degrees and jerked into her chair. “Of course. Sorry.” Her skin prickled with embarrassment.
Well, that probably couldn’t have gone much worse. Bailey reached for her water with a sweaty hand. Though she couldn’t pinpoint what she could’ve done to make it better, other than not have been an ass yesterday, of course.
Luckily, the current president of POWRE stepped to the microphone. Bailey let out a sigh of relief that she didn’t have to make small talk and focused on the center of the room.
By the end of the program, Bailey had made several connections around the table and was even scheduled to send one of her guys to bid a project for a property manager she’d just met. All in all, a productive afternoon. With the exception of the frostbite along the right side of her body from her tablemate.
Before the applause for the speaker ended, Skye leaned toward her and said, “I haven’t forgotten that I agreed to talk to you, but there are a few people I need to see to before I head out. Are you okay mingling before we grab that drink?”
Bailey resisted the urge to shake her head at Skye’s blatant eagerness to get away. “Of course. I would be remiss if I didn’t do a little networking myself. I blocked out the rest of this afternoon for this, so let me know when you’re ready.”
“Will do,” Skye said and walked away, her hair swaying behind her.
Bailey headed toward the bar that had been set up during lunch in the back of the room. It might only be two thirty, but it was happy hour for her and anyone else lucky enough not to have to head back to their offices.
“Bailey!”
She turned, searching the crowd. When her eyes landed on a petite brunette with an adorable pixie cut, Bailey smiled automatically.
Bailey had briefly dated a friend of Kirby Davis. Things with the friend had been short once Bailey had realized the friend was looking for Ms. Right rather than Ms. Right Now, but she and Kirby had hit it off and were often each other’s wing women at these events.
“Hey, you,” Bailey said, pulling Kirby into a hug. “I didn’t realize you were going to be here. I thought you were out of town or something.”
“At the last minute, I ended up pushing the trip. This is a good event, and I didn’t want to miss it.”
“One of the best of the year,” Bailey agreed. Even with being the boss, she sometimes appreciated an excuse to go to a nice lunch and spend the afternoon drinking and chatting up potential clients on company time. And old friends, of course.
“I wanted to thank you for your insights last month on that little issue with my condo board.”
“Of course, what are friends for? Hopefully, you never need me for an issue like that again, but I’m always at your disposal for any questions regarding construction.” She still couldn’t believe that two management company employees and several board members at Kirby’s condo had created a fake company and passed invoices for work never completed in order to embezzle money. “How much did they end up embezzling? Have you gotten to the bottom of it all?”
“Ugh. It’s crazy.” Kirby dropped her voice to a whisper. “Over one-point-five million dollars.”
“Oh my God. That is insane,” she whispered back. “I can’t believe no one realized it.”
“I know. Thankfully, the condo management company made us whole, and we pressed charges against the board members. Everything got cleaned up, but how outrageous.” Kirby faced the bartender as they made it to the front of the line. “Old-fashioned with Maker’s Mark, please, half the normal sweetener. Bailey, what can I get you?”
“I can get my own drink, Kirby.”
“I know you can, but you single-handedly saved my condo a ridiculous sum of money, so the least I can do is buy you a drink.” She laughed as she good-naturedly punched Bailey on the shoulder.
“Good point.” Bailey laughed as well. “I think you actually owe me a lot of drinks.”
“Don’t push your luck, friend.”
“How quickly your loyalties turn.” To the bartender she said, “Grey Goose and tonic with a lime, please.”
“Coming right up.” Bailey really appreciated when these events hosted a top-shelf bar.
The bar was open, but Kirby gave the bartender a generous tip. As they walked away, Bailey said, “I hear cheers are in order for you.”
“What do you mean?” Kirby tilted her head to the side.
“I heard through the grapevine that Ms. Perpetually Single is off the market.”
A hint of red made its way into Kirby’s cheeks. “There are no secrets in this industry, are there?” She shook her head and clicked her tongue.
“So my source was correct, then?” Bailey teased.
“Yes. I…” Kirby bit her lip and stared into her drink. Very uncharacteristic for her. Bailey had decided to let her off the hook, but Kirby finally said, “It was quite unexpected, but someone from my past was suddenly back in my life. I tried to fight it, but it turns out that the Fates had other ideas. Quinn refilled a hole I didn’t realize was there.”
Bailey could see the love in her eyes. She gagged a little on the inside but supposed it was sweet. “I’m happy for you. Though it will be harder being one of the last ones not on the hunt for my soulmate. Regardless, cheers to you and Quinn and your happiness.” She lifted her glass.
“Thank you,” Kirby said with a look of true contentment plastered across her face as they clinked glasses.
Bailey worked the room with Kirby for more than an hour and a half before she caught sight of Skye slowly making her way toward where Bailey was chatting with a small group of women. She felt a mix of regret and relief; she’d begun to wonder if Skye had forgotten about her.
When she arrived, Bailey politely introduced her around the circle and was quite surprised when Kirby said, “Skye Kohl…did you just get named to the ‘Thirty Under Thirty’ list?”
Skye’s face pinked slightly. “Yes, first and only time. I won’t qualify after this year, but how did you hear that? The list hasn’t been released yet.”
Bailey was surprised she was twenty-nine. Judging by her youthful face and level of self-absorption, she could’ve been much younger. Though given her professional accomplishments, Bailey should have known she wasn’t as young as she seemed.
“There are no secrets in this industry,” Kirby said and laughed. “Just ask Bailey here.” She lightly shoved Bailey in the arm and turned back to the larger group.
As Kirby shifted her attention away, Skye quietly but sharply said, “I’ve talked to everyone I want to. Do you want to get that drink?” Her lips were drawn back slightly, as though she smelled something unpleasant and was trying to hide her reaction.
Bailey chose to ignore her displeasure. “Sure.” She made her excuses to the larger group and to Kirby, said, “It was great catching up with you. Let’s do a happy hour soon. Maybe you can bring Quinn. I’d love to meet the woman who got you to settle down.” She sniggered.
Kirby rolled her eyes but mimed texting. “Sounds great. Text me.” When Skye took a step back to leave as well, Kirby congratulated her again and said good-bye.
Bailey didn’t miss Kirby’s raised eyebrows and questioning stare as she walked away with Skye but shook her head. She certainly wasn’t going to get into anything with Kirby right then. It wasn’t something she wanted to explain, anyway.
Bailey and Skye decided to head to Once Upon a Wine, the best wine bar in downtown, to grab a glass rather than stay at the hotel lobby bar. Better selection and decent pricing. Bailey also appreciated that there was less of a chance of a colleague eavesdropping or interrupting them.
They managed polite chitchat on the two-block walk over, and Bailey impressed herself with her ability to carry a conversation about the weather without it devolving into a major disagreement, given that she and Skye seemed like oil and vinegar.
They grabbed a table, and Skye picked up the wine-by-the-glass list and perused it. Lost in contemplation, she thankfully didn’t seem to notice Bailey’s attention. Bailey was hypnotized watching her absentmindedly toy with her earring. Her fingernails, surprisingly short given the terrifying trend of stiletto nails currently in vogue, were delicately manicured and traced the edge of the diamond accented swirl at her left ear. Skye sighed a “hmm” as she released her earring and ran her index finger around the outside of her earlobe. Bailey’s mind wandered as she had a flash of what it would feel like if that finger was hers, or better yet, her tongue. She swallowed. Hard.
Hell. She had to get her hormones in check. She really did not like this woman at all. And yet she could not pull her gaze away as Skye’s finger moved from her ear down to her neck.
When Skye said, “They have such a great selection. I don’t know what to choose,” Bailey finally ripped her eyes away from Skye’s ear. With relief, she saw that Skye still hadn’t looked up and seemed, thankfully, entirely oblivious to Bailey’s ogling.
“I know, so good,” Bailey said, even though she hadn’t yet looked at the list. She realized with horror that she wasn’t talking about wine. Shit. She mentally chastised herself. What was it about this infuriating woman that brought her lust-eyes out to play? She did finally look at the list right before the server came to take their orders.
Skye asked for a glass of cabernet, and since Bailey hadn’t really looked, she quickly said, “Make that two, please.” As she said it, however, she skimmed the list and realized Skye had ordered the most expensive wine on the menu. Bailey shook her head, wondering if she’d done that on purpose since Bailey was buying. Probably. Well played, she silently admitted, and she couldn’t even be irritated. If their positions had been reversed, she suspected she would’ve done the same.
There wasn’t an easy way to do this, so she jumped right in once the server walked away. “I’m incredibly sorry for what I implied yesterday. I didn’t really mean it.”
“Oh?” Skye arched a perfect eyebrow, and her voice dripped with incredulity. With that one word, Bailey knew this was going to be more difficult than she’d hoped. Not that she should have been surprised.
“Honestly? In the moment that I walked around the corner and saw your hand on Jason’s arm and the way you were leaning in? Yes, that is what I thought, but that says more about me than you.” That was embarrassingly true. “I was being an idiot. I don’t know you, but I do know your reputation. I know Ellie thinks very highly of you. I’m sorry that I thought it, even for a moment, and I’m sorry I said it. Truly. I have a little baggage when it comes to cheating, and I unfairly jumped to a vile conclusion.” Bailey placed a hand on Skye’s wrist, hoping she could see the sincerity on her face, even though Bailey hadn’t meant to share that much about herself.
“You already know that it’s hard to be a woman in this field. There aren’t many of us. We’re making gains, but we aren’t there yet. Anytime I close a huge deal, there are always the little men who say things like, the only reason the client picked me was affirmative action, or more offensively, I only won the assignment because I was sleeping with the client. Your implication sounded a lot like them, and it was even worse because it came from another woman.”
The hurt in her eyes affected Bailey more deeply than she would have expected. She had never seen Skye so vulnerable. Hell, until that moment, she hadn’t really believed Skye could be vulnerable, and that made her feel even worse than she had before. “I know. I was irritated that it felt like you were trying to undermine me, and I was a bitch. I’m sorry. Truly.” She looked at the table in embarrassment at her behavior and then back at Skye.
Skye studied her for a drawn-out breath before finally emitting a long-suffering sigh. “Fine, you’re forgiven. Please stop with the sad puppy dog eyes. I can’t take it anymore.”
Bailey scoffed but lifted her glass. “I do not—emphasis on the not—have puppy dog eyes. But…” She smiled and waited until Skye met her gaze again. “Here’s to fresh starts. Maybe with less assumptions and a little more mutual respect?” She hoped Skye didn’t take that toast poorly. Bailey was completely in the wrong, but for them to be able to work together effectively, Skye needed to try a little bit too. Bailey hoped that, after they got to know each other a bit more, interacting might be easier for them both.
Skye squinted with pursed lips. “You’re really pushing it here, aren’t you?”
Bailey chucked but didn’t say anything.
“Fine. I will admit that we could find a little more respect on both sides. To a new beginning.” She clinked her glass against Bailey’s, and they both took a sip.
It was Bailey’s first taste of the wine Skye had chosen, and she couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her lips as it delighted her palate. It was a bold California cabernet, and Bailey couldn’t have picked something better had she scoured the list herself. With her eyes still closed, she swirled the wine and took another sip. “Wow.”
When she slowly opened her eyes, still appreciating the flavors on her tongue, Skye was a little flushed and was watching her intently.
“Sorry, did you say something?” Bailey asked. “I was a little enamored. If it was legal to marry a wine, we’d be heading to the courthouse right now.” She must have missed something important with the way Skye was staring.
“No, no. I’m glad you like it.”
“I might regret saying this.” She smiled so Skye would know she was kidding. Mostly. “But you have impeccable taste. This wine is amazing.”
“Oh, you can’t take that one back.” Skye clicked her tongue and nodded. “Bailey Kaczmarek thinks Skye Kohl has impeccable taste. Could you say that again? I’m going to open the recorder app on my phone.” She threw her head back and laughed, and Bailey stared at the delicate line of her throat. She wondered what Skye’s pulse point would taste like.
Jesus, where had that come from? She shook her head and hoped again that Skye didn’t notice the extra attention. She cleared her throat, trying to relieve the sudden dryness, and took another sip of wine. Neither were particularly effective. “I didn’t say you had impeccable taste in everything. I was only talking about the wine.”
Skye, still laughing, managed, “Oh no, you don’t. You said, and I quote”—she mimed opening a notepad and flipping to the correct page—“‘you have impeccable taste.’ You did not say, ‘you have impeccable taste in wine.’ I heard you and took note. Right here.” She flashed the imaginary notebook in her palm. It would be annoyingly cocky, except that Skye letting go and relaxing enough to laugh so hard her eyes were tearing up connected to Bailey on a deeper, more basic level. She thought for what felt like the seventy-fifth time that afternoon that she really needed to get herself under control.
She scoffed while suppressing her own laughter. She wasn’t going to give in. “I am amending my previous statement to apply to wine only. You have impeccable taste in wine.”
“You can lie to yourself all you want, Bailey, but you and I both know the truth. This one,” she pointed her finger toward herself and tapped it lightly on the bare skin exposed in the vee opening of her blouse, “has impeccable taste. Maybe I’ll add that to my business card. I can see it now, ‘Skye Kohl, licensed real estate broker and woman of impeccable taste.’” She gazed at a far corner of the room with a dreamy expression.
Bailey couldn’t hold her laughter back at that image. “Oh, please send the first card to me. I’ll post it on the bulletin board in my office.” Who knew Skye actually had a sense of humor? Bailey had, up until this conversation, imagined her living in an isolated ice palace, like Elsa in Frozen. No real warmth or personality. This was going to complicate things.
“So she does have a sense of humor.” Skye beamed at her, and Bailey again noticed how perfectly straight and white her teeth were. “I was beginning to wonder if you had a stick…” Bailey cocked her head and wondered if Skye was really going to say that. Happily, Skye toned down the rest of her phrasing. “Uh…someplace uncomfortable.”
Bailey chucked. “Right back at ya. Word for word. No offense, since you just said the same about me.”
“None taken.” Skye winked.
Bailey didn’t think anyone outside of romance novels and creepy dudes in bars actually winked. More surprising than the wink itself was her reaction to it. The bees flitting about in her lower belly were too much in that moment, so she stood quickly—but hopefully, casually—and said, “On that happy note, I…I’ll be right back.” She headed to the restroom as rapidly as she dared without taking out a billboard to advertise her nervousness, praying Skye hadn’t seen the blush she could feel creeping up her chest.