Maddy's Oasis Read online

  Maddy’s Oasis

  A Novella

  By Lizzy Ford

  Edited by Christine LePorte

  Cover art and design by Dafeenah

  http://dafeenah-hiddentreasure.blogspot.com/

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  Copyright 2011 by Lizzy Ford

  Smashwords Edition

  Cover art and design copyright 2011 by Dafeenah

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  Smashwords edition license notes:

  Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

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  See other titles by Lizzy Ford at http://www.guerrillawordfare.com/

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  Twitter hashtags:

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Madeleine Winters gazed out the car window at the construction site— nothing more than steel beams and concrete to her untrained eye. Her mouth fell open with a silent curse. Beams in the vertical steel frame had been forcibly bent until the building resembled a partially bloomed flower wilting in the middle of the west Texas desert and not the gleaming hotel it was supposed to be. Her field was program management, not construction, but she doubted the structure sitting in the middle of the desert was right.

  “Wow!” Eric, the car’s driver and her personal assistant, exclaimed. “That can’t be normal.”

  Her gaze went to the two bright yellow bulldozers near one corner. One was still connected to a beam by a thick steel chain while the other had been tipped over. She stepped out of the car’s AC into to the desert’s sauna-like heat and shielded her eyes despite the sunglasses.

  There were more signs of intentional damage: crushed tiles, colorful graffiti, and tools and construction materials scattered everywhere.

  Her black suit was meant for the temperate weather back east and her slingback heels for sidewalks. A late flight left her tired, and the sight of her pitiful project worsened her headache. She felt sorry for the building, even knowing how ridiculous that was. Given the project’s bloated financials, she suspected the amount of damage done would soak up more money and time than she had.

  Which was why her boss, Nigel, offered her such a pretty bonus if she could complete it on time. She’d expected a mess, but nothing like this.

  “You probably should learn to fire people more politely,” Eric said. He was a wiry, small man who appeared to be no older than fifteen despite being closer to thirty than she was. In one hand was a BlackBerry; in the other, a PDA.

  “I thought I was polite,” she said with a frown. “Where the hell are the security guards Alex hired before ditching this place last week?”

  “Alex didn’t do a lot of things he said he did,” Eric reminded her with a glance down at the PDA. “Alex pissed off— or fired— the only four local companies capable of building this far in the west Texas desert. The last we had to bring in from … I can’t even pronounce it. I don’t even know if they’re based in the US. It’s Javier and Sons Construction.”

  Anyone who knew Alex knew he couldn’t handle organizing his car let alone overseeing a mega-challenge such as The Desert Oasis. The misshapen beginnings before her were meant to be real estate tycoon Dylan Howard’s latest venture: an exclusive, uber-luxury spa and hotel stranded in the middle of the Texas desert, one so exclusive that non-millionaires would not be invited to stay.

  Alex was on his way out, and this had been the final push. No one had heard from him since he ditched the project a week ago. She understood why.

  “That must be them.” Eric indicated the single-wide trailer off to one side. It was nestled between stacks of sandstone and hefty wooden crates. Four large white utility trucks with extended cabs were parked a short distance from the office. Several men perched on the edges of the trucks, and the door to the office was open.

  Her phone rang, and she looked at the number, recognizing it as her mother’s doctor’s office. She motioned Eric onward and answered.

  “Is this Madeleine Winters?” a prim voice asked.

  “Yes.”

  “This is Grace from the billing department at Dr. Jordan’s.”

  Madeleine grated her teeth, knowing what Grace was about to tell her.

  “You missed your last two payments. I don’t want to refer your account to collections. You’ll have to find a new doctor if you’re not able to bring your account up to date.”

  “I took out a loan that should’ve transferred to my account today,” Madeleine replied in the same tone. “If not, I’ll have it tomorrow. Either way, I’ll transfer the funds by noon tomorrow.”

  “Very well, Ms. Winters.”

  Madeleine hung up and drew a deep breath. Her mother’s cancer treatment and nursing home had already eaten through both their retirement savings and a second lien on her house. Her credit cards were maxed out, and the bank had been very, very hesitant to extend the latest lifeline. When Nigel offered her the six-figure bonus for finishing this project, she leapt at the opportunity, even though her gut warned her against it.

  She needed the money too bad to say no.

  She regained her resolve and made her way carefully toward the office, twisting her ankle only once on the rocky ground beneath her four-inch heels. She straightened and dusted her suit jacket before ascending the rickety metal stairs to the office.

  The contrast of the building’s dark interior blinded her. She paused inside the doorway and blinked, making out several quiet forms in a small reception area sporting two worn couches in front of a cluttered desk.

  She raised her sunglasses and gazed at the three silent men standing before her. One beefy, older Mexican’s white shirt labeled him as Javier. Another wore blue with the familiar logo, Smithson Contracting. The third was small and round with an oily smile.

  “Good morning,” she said when no one spoke. “I’m Madeleine, assistant to Mr. Howard, and the new project manager assigned to oversee completion of the Desert Oasis.”

  She offered her hand to the nearest man, Javier, whose barrel-chested frame made her feel tiny. He gave a hearty shake. His grizzled smile— as rough as his salt and pepper speckled start of a beard— widened at her direct gaze. His skin was caramel, the dominant shade in southwest Texas, his eyes bright blue.

  “Javier, of Javier and Sons,” he responded in a thick, slow Spanish accent.

  “Larry’s Security,” the small, oily man said, stepping forward and holding out a hand.

  “Ah, Larry’s Security,” she said. “You’ve been in charge of my site for the past week.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “I received your phone call but didn’t understand. Thought I’d drop by and meet you.”

  “I appreciate your visit,” she said. “However, my message was very clear. Your services are no longer needed.”

  “Ma’am, I was hired by— ”

  “Alex. I know. And I’m releasing you. I confirmed our last payment to your company. If you would like to contest either your payment or your release, here is the number to Mr. Howard’s attorneys’ office.”

  She handed him a card. Without awaiting any further objection, she turned to the man in the Smithson uniform.

  “Jim Smithson,” he said, sticking out his hand.

  While not impressed by any of what she had seen so far, she was the least impressed by the man before her.

  “How may I help you?” she asked. r />
  “My contract with— ”

  She cut him off. “Your contract has been terminated. Here, for you, is the card for Mr. Howard’s attorneys. Raise any complaint you have to them. Or you can await their call. Mr. Howard is leaving it up to me whether or not to press charges for this disaster you call a building. The local inspector already faxed us his initial inspection results indicating a great deal of negligence in your performance. Eric, escort Mr. Smithson and Mr. Larry out.”

  She took a step back and folded her hands before her. Mr. Smithson’s face flushed, and he sputtered while Mr. Larry just stared. The men went without a word. Eric beamed a smile and followed them.

  “Coffee, Eric!” she called after him.

  She glanced at her awaiting contractor, Javier, and crossed to the cluttered desk, not sure where to start. Stacks of papers, an accounting book, trash, and office supplies were piled on top. The mess was representative of the shoddy reporting and inconsistent status updates Alex sent their boss, Nigel, throughout the months he was running the project. There was no way to know what Alex had been doing, or even how far he had gotten, and she doubted the trashed desk would be of any help. She set her briefcase on top of the nearest pile of yellowed papers and popped it open.

  “These are the revised blueprints based on Mr. Howard’s directions. I need an estimate today of the extent of damage, cost to repair, schedule for repairing, and an estimate on the time, materials, and manpower needed to resume and complete construction. Do you wanna write this down?”

  She turned to face him, pad of paper and pen in hand.

  Javier was smiling, his amusement visible in the crinkling around his eyes. He stuck the blueprints under his arm without looking at them and tucked his thumbs into the wide belt of his jeans.

  “No, ma’am,” he replied.

  “Are you sure?” she pressed. “You’ll need something to write down the numbers, at least.”

  “It’ll get done when it’s done.”

  “What does that mean?” she pushed. “It must be done immediately.”

  “I suggest you prioritize what you want done soonest.”

  “I told you what I want done.”

  “Won’t get done today.”

  She gazed at him hard.

  “I’m being honest,” he said before she could pursue. “Out west, we do things a little different, a little more slow.”

  “I realize that,” she said. “But if you won’t perform as I want you to, I’ll replace you.”

  “Well,” he said with a pause. “Alex drove away every other construction company between here and Houston, which is a twelve-hour drive. You’re stuck with us, unless Mr. Howard wants to pay double for someone else. It’s been my experience that rich men are stingy men. It’ll get done, Ms. Madeleine, but it’ll get done when it’s done. Good morning, ma’am.”

  And he walked out. She stared at the wall before her, resisting the urge to scream and throw her shoes.

  “Mr. Javier!” she called as she followed.

  His long strides toward his trucks forced her to trot precariously on her toes. At her approach, Javier turned to face her. He automatically reached out to steady her with a beefy hand as she wobbled on the heels.

  “I need some sort of timetable of when you intend to have my tasks done,” she insisted. “When do you intend to start, how late do you work, how many men you have at your disposal. We have much more to discuss, and I would greatly appreciate a timeline of when you plan to do what I covered on my list.”

  “Where do I get coffee around here?” Eric asked, approaching from the direction of their rental car.

  “This little lady doesn’t need any coffee,” Javier grumbled. “Her pretty little head’s about to spin off.”

  ”There’s a diner down the road, Eric. We passed it on our way here,” she told him. “Bring two cups— oh, and I’m going to need a microwave, mini-fridge, and office supplies for this little … shack. And cleaning supplies. Maybe some food and bottled water.”

  Eric jotted down her list with a quick nod. She turned to find Javier had continued toward his trucks without her.

  “And call around to see what other contractors are in this area,” she said in a quieter voice.

  Eric smiled before snapping his PDA in place at his hip and jogging to the rental car.

  Irritated by the lack of urgency or concern about the mess behind her, Madeleine quickened her pace toward Javier. He strode by one truck and motioned to the men loitering, directing them toward the building with a few quick words in Spanish she didn’t understand. He paused to stand at the lowered tailgate of one truck, where he handed the blueprints to a man seated on the edge.

  “What are your men doing now?” she asked, glancing toward the half dozen men ambling toward the structure.

  “Ma’am, they plan on conducting an ancient Indian ritual to cleanse the building of evil spirits,” Javier said, reaching for a thermos.

  She stared at him. He twisted the top of the thermos off and poured a cup of coffee, handing it to her.

  “Maybe this’ll calm you down,” he offered.

  “Just … please, give me some indication you’ll work with me here,” she said. She sipped the coffee, expecting it to be as rough as the man before her and surprised at its smooth, mild flavor.

  “You ever built a building?” Javier asked.

  “No.”

  “Know anything about building buildings?”

  “No.”

  “What’re you doing here?”

  “I’m damage control,” she explained. “Our boss believes that program managers need to know how to manage programs, not be experts in any one field.”

  “At least you’re honest.” Javier tilted his head toward the seated man. “My nephew, Jake.”

  Madeleine glanced at the quiet man, noting the similar white T-shirt, cowboy hat, and jeans.

  “Jake’ll be handling your project,” Javier continued.

  “I expected this project to be given your company’s utmost support and expertise,” she said firmly.

  “Jake went to one of your schools out east,” Javier stated. “He’s the best in Texas. Ask him for a timeline.”

  Madeleine suspected she would receive nothing more concrete from a blood relative of Javier than she would the man himself. Javier, however, seemed satisfied with himself. He handed her the coffee thermos, slapped the seated man on the arm, and strode to the nearest truck.

  She drew a deep breath to calm herself before turning to the man in whose hands her entire life seemed to rest.

  “Jake.”

  The man unfolding himself from the truck was larger than she expected. Over six feet and solid. He was wide of shoulder, as muscular as a linebacker. Jeans and T-shirt were snug in all the right places, revealing sculpted biceps and the outline of muscular thighs. He wore traditional cowboy boots and a thick belt with a bright buckle. Eyes were hidden behind reflective sunglasses and the rest of his face behind the blueprint in his hands. His hair was in a traditional military styled high and tight.

  “Jake, can you provide me a timeline for estimating the damage and repairs?” she asked.

  “Sure.” His Texan accent was less evident, his deep voice rich and quiet.

  “I have paper in the office,” she said.

  He trailed her as she hurried back to the trailer. The darkness blinded her once more, and she paused before crossing to her briefcase to retrieve the paper and pen. Jake seated himself on one of the couches. She crossed to sit near him on the same couch, holding out the pen and paper.

  He was a handsome man, she noticed, unable to help her surprise at finding such a specimen so far from civilization. Sunglasses were perched on his head to reveal large, dark eyes with long eyelashes, a thick and low brow, a noble, aquiline nose, chiseled jaw, tilted cheekbones, and a thick coat of caramel-shaded skin. She found herself staring openly at him, unaware of how much time passed before he finally spoke.

  “These blueprints ha
ve been altered down to the foundation,” he observed, studying the colored sheets of paper.

  “Meaning what exactly?”

  “Meaning the foundation must be replaced.”

  “No,” she said, and shook her head. “Starting over isn’t an option.”

  Jake met her gaze with a raised eyebrow. She was surprised at the bloom of heat within her caused by the direct look of the hunk next to her.

  “You asked for my estimate,” he pointed out, the Texan drawl slowing his speech.

  “Let’s start with the damage assessment. How long will it take to repair everything?”

  “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  Though agitated by his directness, she said evenly, “No, I don’t. That…” She motioned toward the building beyond the office door, “…looks like a mess to me.”

  “It is,” he agreed. “Beyond repair.”

  “No,” she said again. “I don’t have time to rebuild.”

  “Repair would take just as long.”

  “You’ll have to deal with what’s there,” she said. “Something must be salvageable.”

  “And the changes in the blueprints?”

  “What about them?”

  “I can’t repair the damage according to old blueprints. The changes in this set will be done simultaneously.”

  “Fine,” she said. “Make the changes as you repair. How long?”

  “When it’s done,” he said, and stood. Like his uncle, he left without another word. She watched him, her gaze falling to his perfectly shaped backside as he strode out of the office.

  She started after him and tripped over the concrete block used to prop open the door. She cursed and leaned against the door. Jake was waving all the awaiting men toward the building. She rubbed her stubbed toe, aware of the blisters already forming from chasing down Javier. Convinced Javier and Sons would be the death of her, she forced herself to focus on the office.

  It, too, was a complete disaster, and for the second time in half an hour, she felt overwhelmed by her circumstances. She forced her mind away from the contracting situation. In truth, she needed to determine the status of the finances before being confronted with the price tag attached to the damage and changes to blueprints.