Let It Breathe by Tawna Fenske Read Free Book Online Page A

the model.”
    “Right.”
    “Environmental stewardship is the backbone of our branding on this whole project. This is Oregon—this is what wineries hang their hats on here.”
    Clay nodded. “So you’re committed.”
    Reese looked at him, gritting her teeth. “You mean I’m screwed.”
    “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”
    “Clay Henderson, missing the opportunity to say screwed in any context? That’s a first.” She grimaced at the waspish sound of her own voice and forced herself to take a few deep breaths before speaking again. “So now what? I don’t spearhead multimillion-dollar construction projects on a daily basis. What do I do now?”
    He gave her a small smile, one that seemed to warm the brown pools of his eyes, and Reese felt her belly begin to liquefy. “The other pages I gave you outline different options,” he said. “Review the numbers, let us know if you want to change course.”
    Reese frowned. “What if I want to ditch Dorrington Construction altogether and use a different builder? What then?”
    “That would be unfortunate,” Clay said, stone-faced.
    “That’s your professional assessment?”
    He sighed, folding his hands on the desk. “That could get ugly. You’ve already signed the contracts, and I’m certain my employer will hold you to that.”
    “Thank you for your candor.”
    “No problem.”
    She looked down at her hands, surprised to see they were shaking. She clenched the letter opener more tightly.
    “Look, this is all a little overwhelming,” she said. “First you show up out of nowhere, claiming you’re clean and sober. Now you’re not only going to be working here, but you’re telling me this bid is so far off the mark that I can’t even see the fucking mark.”
    “Your frustration is understandable.”
    Reese dropped the letter opener, something inside her bubbling over the top now. “Frustration? You make it sound like I’m sexually deprived, not in danger of losing this whole construction project. Frustration is putting it mildly.”
    She saw his jaw clench, and he opened his mouth to say something. He hesitated, then closed it. The old Clay would have jumped all over the sexually deprived comment, but this one sighed.
    “Are we talking about the numbers or about me being here?”
    Reese picked up the letter opener again, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t know. Look, I’m sorry. The bid thing isn’t your fault. I know that. I’m just upset, okay? I should have pushed the family to move faster or—well, whatever. It’s done now. The ball is rolling and you’re here now.” She bit her lip. “ God , you’re really here? It’s all so—so—”
    Clay cleared his throat. “Look, if it helps, let me say this. Wine was never my poison. You know that. I was a beer man, and this isn’t a brewery.”
    “It’s still alcohol, and you’re an alcoholic.” She flinched at her own words. “I’m proud of you for getting sober and everything, but well—aren’t alcoholics always alcoholics, even after rehab?”
    “That’s true.”
    Her throat felt tight with emotion, and she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the bid anymore. “So to be surrounded by temptation like this—”
    “I can handle temptation,” Clay said, his voice so steely Reese sat back a little in her chair. “I’m well acquainted with temptation.”
    Reese didn’t say anything. She couldn’t even blink as Clay’s eyes held hers, warm and a little dangerous. He reached across the desk as if to touch her, then stopped, drawing his hand back.
    “I take it one day at a time, just like I’ve been doing for the last four years.”
    Reese took a shaky breath, her mind not entirely occupied by thoughts of Clay swilling from barrels of Reserve Pinot. That wasn’t the temptation that worried her. She looked up to see those root-beer-brown eyes studying her with an intensity that made her stomach clench.
    Her mind flashed again to those muscular shoulders, the sheen of sweat