Roll the Dice

The hot spray of the shower jet beat down on her upturned face and stretched neck as she stood with her hands on the blue tile wall in front of her. Steam billowed up around her, the water massaging her into wakefulness. Four-thirty came early, but Jacqui Karston had been waking that early for the past two years, losing herself in the projects of The Karston Foundation ever since her family died in a plane crash without her. She was up late every night, as well. She had to be. There was still so much to do to rebuild Biloxi after Katrina devastated the coast ten years ago. The city had already did quite a bit, of course, but it was not enough. It would never be enough in Jacqui’s eyes, not as long as there were vacant lots and partially demolished buildings scattered everywhere, and, if she were honest with herself, she needed the distraction.

After blow drying her hair, she brushed it into long, blond walls, framing her narrow face, keeping her closed off and uninviting. It also added the illusion of height to her already five-ten frame, which only made her look that much taller in her three-inch heels. Height meant power. People took you seriously if they had to look up to you, and Jacqui demanded people took her seriously.

With her travel mug full of black coffee and an everything bagel wrapped and ready to be devoured, she locked the door to her silent house, leaving her father, whom she forced to move in with her a year ago, and their housekeeper sleeping soundly, as she headed to the offices of The Karston Foundation. The morning traffic was a mere trickle in the pre-dawn hours, and by six-fifteen, she walked through the dimly lit foyer of the building bearing her family name. There was only one other person there that early, Karl Henry, the building’s custodian. Since the Karstons pulled Karl’s life out of the rubble of Katrina’s aftermath, he always made sure Jacqui never unlocked her own office door. Once he realized her coming in early after the death of her family was a permanent thing and not just a onetime occurrence, he adjusted his hours to match hers. Even though Jacqui hated he had to leave his family that early every day, she appreciated the fact that he threw himself into his job. Biloxi needed more people like Karl. If more people were as driven as he was, then the Gulf Coast would have been restored to its former glory already with empty lots filled and damaged buildings renewed with fresh purpose. The casinos had been quick to rebuild after Katrina, but that didn’t help the smaller businesses who needed it. Some had lost everything and moved to other areas. The Karstons didn’t want to see any more people leave their city. They needed a reason to stay, and Marc, her late husband, had been determined to give it to them. She had joined his crusade and devoted the last decade of her life to doing just that. However, over the last two years it had consumed her every waking moment, making her cut out anything that failed to help her fulfill Marc’s mission.

Her office light was on, and her personal coffee pot already had fresh coffee waiting on her, another of Karl’s services. She tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but the quiet man refused to listen. “You gave my family hope to keep going after the storm hit,” he said. “You gave me a job and helped us get back on our feet. What’s a pot of coffee compared to that?”

Jacqui stood behind her desk and picked up a silver picture frame that held the last portrait ever taken of her family. Her husband, Marc, had his arms around her shoulders while their nine-year-old daughter, Maggie, sat on Jacqui’s lap, Marc’s hand on his daughter’s right shoulder. Jacqui had her arms around her daughter. Jacqui smiled as she stared at the picture, her family staring back at her. Helping the Henrys was Marc’s vision for his city. He wanted to save people, save their homes, their businesses. She joined in that vision, believing in it, in Marc. Yet, when her family needed her the most, she was not around to save them. It was her job as wife and mother, a job she had failed at doing. She didn’t deserve hot coffee being made for her. She deserved nothing, because she still owed so much.

By eight that morning, she was so absorbed in the plans for her new project, the Maggie Karston Community Center, that she hadn’t noticed her personal assistant, Lily Anderson, until the young woman came in to dump out Jacqui’s cold coffee and replace it with fresh. Realizing she had basically been in the same position for the last hour and a half, Jacqui tried to stretch her cramped muscles. Everything was tight, and she heard her joints pop as she stretched her arms high over her head. Her father would scold her for not being more active. “Muscles need to be worked.” Yet, when did she have the time? There was so much to do and so few people to do it.

Lily handed her a manila folder as she set a cup of steaming coffee on Jacqui’s desk, the travel mug replaced with a ceramic one with a skyline of Biloxi wrapped around it. “This is the information you wanted on Rutherford Construction,” the small brunette said. Lily was another one they pulled from the wreckage of Katrina. She had been attending the local college when the hurricane barreled through and reduced her apartment to rubble. Marc found her sitting on the curb, just staring at what was once her home. The college would keep going, but even at nineteen, Lily was ready to call it quits. He put the young woman in his car and took her home where they were already housing several refugees. Marc wasn’t giving anyone a chance to give up, and Jacqui loved him all the more for his compassion and generosity. She was determined to carry on his legacy.

“Anything in the file you should warn me about?” Opening the folder, Jacqui leaned back in her chair. “Any reason I should go with these guys instead of someone here?” Jacqui wanted to help solidify Biloxi and the surrounding area, and therefore, always hired locally, another tradition Marc had started. The only reason she agreed to even meet with Neal Rutherford was because her financial adviser, Brent Wellington, forced her into taking the meeting. Brent had been with Marc and her since the beginning, and she felt loyal to him. Still, while she agreed to the meeting, she hadn’t agreed to hire them. She was counting on her personal assistant to help her find the way out she needed.

Lily, now twenty-nine and filled out into a beautiful woman as opposed to a skinny teenager, clasped her hands in front of her and shook her head. “Actually, from everything I could find on the company, they do amazing work. They’re always on time and usually come in under budget. They have offices throughout Florida and into Georgia, all with excellent reviews. To be honest, I can’t see a reason not to hire them. Sorry.”

Jacqui smiled up at the girl, all five-feet seven-inches of her. “Brent didn’t bribe you to say that, did he?”

Lily laughed as she gave Jacqui a playful wink. “He can’t afford me.” She then turned and began walking out of Jacqui’s office. “I’ll leave you to your dilemma. I’ll be at my desk if you need anything, Mrs. Karston.” Jacqui watched her walk away, her navy-blue skirt hugging her ass and her four-inch heels stretching her athletic legs. She didn’t know how her assistant managed to stay in such tight shape. She was almost always at the office with Jacqui, working the same insane hours. When the younger woman found time to exercise was a mystery to Jacqui, as well as something she envied.

She stared at the manila folder Lily had handed her. Jacqui really hoped her assistant would have found some reason for her to cancel her lunch appointment with Neal Rutherford. She wanted to keep the money in the Biloxi area, not send it off to line a CEO’s pockets who has nothing invested in her city. Everything Jacqui did, she did to improve the local economy. She bought from local vendors; she ate at locally owned restaurants, and she hired from local contractors. Brent knew this. So why did he seem hellbent on her working with Rutherford Construction, Incorporated? Of course, a better question would be why she didn’t just refuse.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she closed the folder. Because I owe Brent for helping me get this far. Brent had been the one who had made Marc’s vision possible, and she owed him for that. Of course, that didn’t mean she had to like it.

She slipped the folder into her briefcase, ensuring she wouldn’t forget it. As she leaned back in her chair, she picked up the silver picture frame again, this time focusing on her daughter’s thin face. The project, the Maggie Karston Community Center, was to honor Jacqui’s daughter. Neal Rutherford would have to guarantee his company could make it perfect before Jacqui even came close to considering his company for her project. While Rutherford Construction may look good on paper, they also had to feel good in her heart where the community center had been born. So far, her feelings were terribly mixed about it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Morgan Brewer finished tying the laces of his work boots and patted the bare ass of—What was her name again?—before pushing himself off the hotel bed and reaching for his sports coat. He knew Neal would already be waiting down in the lobby for him. Neal Rutherford never arrived on time to meetings. He was early. “Being punctual is your first opportunity to prove you’re honest and respect the other person,” the founder and owner of Rutherford Construction always said. “If you can’t be on time to a meeting, how will they believe you can finish a project on time?” Neal Rutherford always met his deadlines. It was one of the reasons his company was so sought after throughout Florida.

After slipping his coat on, Morgan popped three Tylenol into his mouth and drank half a bottle of water to wash them down. His head throbbed as he ran a brush through his hair, trying to bring order to the almond-colored mess. He needed a shower, but he had needed sleep more. While Neal made sure they arrived the night before, so they wouldn’t be cutting it close, Morgan decided a free night meant it was time to hit the casinos and try his luck at the machines as well as the skirts. Striking out at the craps tables, he had won big in the skirt department, and the two of them had found consolation over his gambling loss in a bottle of Captain Morgan and Morgan’s bed. That morning the Captain was exacting his due while the skirt drooled on his pillow.

Morgan gave himself a once over in the mirror and shrugged. It is what it is. Leaning down, he kissed the sandy blonde on the cheek. Telling her to let herself out when she was ready. He then slipped out of his room and into the red-carpeted hallway. He had faced meetings in worse condition and pulled it off; he’d make it through this one. Besides, he hadn’t met a lady yet who could resist Morgan Brewer’s charms. That’s why I’m probably divorced and without a relationship now, he thought as he pushed the button for the elevator. He gave his charms away to every pretty smile when he should have left them at home. Ah well, some men are just not meant for marriage. The downside of that, however, was he could never really spend time with his four-year-old son, Dustin. That was Morgan’s only regret.

As he expected, Neal was in the lobby, sipping coffee from the cardboard cups they put in the rooms. When he saw Morgan crossing the lobby, he made a point of checking his watch, his eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “I’m impressed. I thought for sure you would be late.” He made no move to stand.

Morgan smiled. “I know your feelings about punctuality.”

Neal nodded. “Almost makes me wish I hadn’t given you the wrong time.”

Morgan stared at the man, his eyes narrowed in confusion. “The wrong time?” Neal Rutherford was not a man to play practical jokes, so as Morgan stared at the older man, the dark hair turning to silver around the edges and salting his mustache, he wasn’t sure what to make of his comment. “I don’t understand.”

Neal’s face practically sparkled. Whatever was going on made the man quite sure of himself. “I knew that, while I went to my room to study the proposal sent to us by Jacqui Karston, you wouldn’t be able to resist the casinos or the free alcohol they pass out while you’re playing.” He shrugged after taking another sip of his coffee. “So, I told you a half hour earlier than I needed you down here just to be safe. From the look of your eyes, I’m guessing I’m accurate on how you spent your night.”

Morgan raked his fingers through his wavy hair as he took a deep breath. “I was wondering why we were having a lunch meeting so early. Perhaps, then, we have time to grab a coffee before we leave.”

Neal chuckled. “C’mon. I’ll buy.”

The casino had a Starbucks in the plaza area that stretched between the hotel and the casino. Both men purchased a coffee—black and strong—and made their way to the parking garage and Neal’s rental car. As they walked, Neal handed Morgan the file on the Maggie Karston Community Center. “I assume you haven’t glanced at this, yet. Browse over it as I drive. When we meet with Jacqui Karston, I’ll do most of the talking. You just put on that famous charm of yours. This project could help us get into Mississippi.”

Morgan glanced over at Neal. “How’d we get this far?”

“Brent Wellington’s an old friend. He’s been keeping an eye out lately for the perfect project to sink our company teeth into. He’s worked with Jacqui for years, and when she came to him with this community center to honor her daughter, Brent thought it would be a nice bridge for us to cross with. Now, we just have to convince Jacqui we’re the company for the job.”

“You think that’ll be hard to do?” Both men slid into the car and buckled up their seatbelts. Neal shrugged as he started the engine. “Jacqui Karston usually only hires local people. Her heart is to keep the money and progress in the area. It’s a tradition her late-husband started. We’re the outsiders. It’s our job to convince her we’re good for her local economy, as well.”

Morgan found himself nodding as Neal pulled out into the late-morning traffic. He wasn’t too worried. He never had a problem swaying a woman to see his side of things or persuading them to do what he wanted. Charm was one of the tools in his personal toolbox he used with skill, in business as well as the bedroom. Jacqui Karston would see he was the man for the job. He had no doubt. He could appreciate someone having zeal for a cause. It made them eager to see progress. Yet, something usually sparked that fire. Furthermore, it was probably something deeper than just naming something after her daughter. If he could discover that spark, he would have a way past her defenses.

“Are you staying to help set up the new office?” Morgan took in the buildings as they passed casinos, hotels, and small businesses. While it was true there were quite a few vacant lots where buildings once stood and several abandoned buildings that needed demolished, the Biloxi/Gulfport area was still an extremely active community with tourists and locals alike. The white sands of the beach were inviting as, even on a workday, people enjoyed the sun and waves. The homes along Highway 90 still held the southern charm of a period lost to history while newer, flashier buildings crowded in from all sides. Well-kept parks were alive with artists and families, enjoying the day before the afternoon heat reminded them summer was only a month away.

Katrina hit them hard ten years ago, but the residents of Biloxi were quick to bounce back and reclaim their area.

“No,” Neal said. “Once Mrs. Karston accepts our proposal, I’m off to our Savannah office to make sure Edwin keeps his pants up.”

“Now, that wasn’t all on him, and you know it. Cherish Lansky was just as much a willing participant in that affair as Edwin was. I agree he should have been smarter about the whole thing, but they were two consenting adults.” Morgan didn’t doubt Edwin manipulated Cherish into the back of his truck or over the desk or wherever the two of them wound up doing the dirty deed, but Cherish was a grown woman who should have known better. If she had been satisfied at home, she never would have cheated on her husband. Of course, Edwin should have known better than to fuck around with a married woman, especially one looking for a knight on a white steed. Once Edwin found a sweeter piece of ass, he dropped Cherish in a heartbeat and moved on. However, he made two mistakes in his sexual game. First, he chose someone in the same office as Cherish, and second, it just happened to be her married sister, Faith. The difference between the two sisters was that while Cherish wanted to escape her marriage, Faith just wanted to spice hers up. Cherish didn’t take any of it well, and when she blew, the entire Brevard office went with her. She quit and stormed out, Neal transferred Edwin to help him save face as well as, hopefully, avoid a lawsuit, promoted Faith to her sister’s job, and asked Morgan to travel to Biloxi long enough to get the new office running. His wasn’t a punishment, though. At least, he hoped not. Neither was Faith’s promotion, he supposed, depending on whether she enjoyed the job, that is. Still, they could have avoided most of that if adults just behaved like adults.

“I’m not stupid, Morgan. I’ve been around the world of construction enough to know how the birds play with the bees. Hell, I’ve played the game myself. However, when the sexual conduct of my employees has the possibility of causing me to sign a check to settle out of court, it’s no longer a game. It’s bad business. I’m sure Cherish was lashing out like a jilted lover, but it’s not to happen on my dime. Edwin needs to know that, in no uncertain terms. I saved his ass this time. There won’t be a next.”

Morgan knew enough to drop the subject. Edwin Coldwell was not worth pissing off the boss. “So, any advice on how to win Mrs. Karston over?”

Neal pulled into the parking lot of Big Jake’s Steakhouse. Shifting the car into park and turning the ignition off, he glanced over at Morgan. “She’s a proper woman. Don’t be a construction worker.”

How does a construction worker not be a construction worker while trying to sell a construction contract? Morgan stepped out of the car and into the climbing sun. Charm, Morgan. Time to pull out the charm.

Jacqui tore off another piece of the mutilated napkin in her hands and wadded it up into a tiny ball. When she compressed it as she could get it, she plopped it down into the small pile of wadded up balls in front of her. She instantly ripped off another piece.

Reaching across the table, Brent Wellington placed his hand on top of the napkin and gently pushed it and her hands to the table. “Relax. It’s just lunch. You eat lunch all the time.”

“And it’s usually at my desk or in situations where I have control. This feels like an ambush.” She wadded the rest of the napkin up, tossing it to the center of the table. She reached for her water glass, needing something to do with her hands.

“This is far from an ambush,” her financial consultant said. “It’s just a business meeting to introduce you to someone who might be able to help you with your next project. You’re the boss. You can say yes or no.”

She shook her head. “They want me to hire them and so do you. That’s three against one. It’s an ambush.”

“Hardly. Have a breadstick,” he said as he pointed to a basket of long garlic breadsticks on the table. “It’ll give you something to tear up with your hands besides your napkin.”

His offer tempted her, but she didn’t need garlic butter all over her fingers when Neal Rutherford arrived. That wasn’t the first impression she desired to give. As it turned out, it was a wise choice because as she set her water glass back down, Neal arrived accompanied by another—younger—man. Neal was in his early fifties if she read Lily’s file correctly, but he was fit enough to be in his thirties. His dark hair was barely gray at the temples, and while his skin was a deep tan from being outdoors, it did not have the leathery look to it that sometimes came with age.

The other man stood about an inch taller than Neal, with a thicker build and wavy, light brown hair. He also had a cocky swagger to his gait whereas Neal was just confident in his stride. She stood with Brent to greet them, but she already had Neal’s partner figured out as a player just by his walk. That was one strike against him. I’m not that easily charmed, Mr. Rutherford. I hope this friend of yours isn’t your selling strategy.

“Neal, Morgan, glad you could make it,” Brent said as he shook each man’s hand. He then introduced them to Jacqui, using their full names this time, before making her introduction. “Allow me to introduce Jacqui Karston, CEO of The Karston Foundation and the Maggie Karston Community Center, or as I like to call her, the Boss.”

Jacqui smiled as a little blush heated her cheeks at Brent’s words. “He only says that because I sign his checks, not because he really listens to me.” She smiled, trying to put a little laugh to her jest.

Brent held his hands out to his side as if she just caught him at something and chuckled with her. Luckily for her, Neal and Morgan joined in the laughter. “I’m sure that’s not true at all,” Neal said as he gave Jacqui’s hand a firm shake. “I’ve known Brent for a while. He never puts his saddle on a horse he doesn’t have complete confidence in. He has spoken quite highly of you, Mrs. Karston, which is part of the reason we’re here. I admire what you’re trying to do, and I want to be a part of it.”

“Even though you just compared me to a horse, you may call me Jacqui.” She gave him a strained smile as they all took their seats again.

“You are far from a horse,” Morgan said as he waved for the waitress. “Neal sometimes uses clichés before he realizes how they may come out.”

“I promise, I meant no offense,” Neal said, his face a little paler than it was before he arrived.

“None taken, but lunch is on you.” Jacqui slipped her napkin over her lap. She didn’t want this meeting in the first place. She had no intention of making it easy on any of them.

“As it should be. We did ask for the meeting, after all.”

Jacqui just smiled. Brent was already sweating under the collar. Good. He deserved to sweat for putting her in this position. There were plenty of great contractors right here in Biloxi she had hired before and with whom she had a great working relationship. She didn’t need to give someone from the outside a foothold into her area. Her goal was to put people to work who had a vested interest in the community. Neal Rutherford was an outsider with no interest other than his bank account.

The waitress approached, refilling Jacqui’s water, which had a lemon floating in it, and asked Neal and Morgan for their drink orders. “Water with lemon, please,” Neal said. The waitress turned to Morgan and Jacqui watched as the woman’s eyes twinkled when he smiled up at her. Her hip popped out, and she leaned a little lower down, the creamy top of her breasts pushing at her blouse. Morgan, typical male that he seemed to be, smiled even more as he raked her with his eyes. “Shock Top with an orange slice, please.” The girl gave him a seductive smile and bounced off to fill the drink order. Jacqui would almost bet he would get his beer before Neal received his water.

“A day drinker?” She glanced over at Morgan as he watched the waitress walk away. Neal cleared his throat, and Morgan finally turned around. He showed no sign of being embarrassed at his ogling. Brazen. Jacqui didn’t particularly care for brazen.

“Glenlivet. Grey Goose. Jameson. That would be day drinking. A Shock Top with an orange slice is just lunch.” He settled back in his seat. “You’ve never had a drink with lunch?”

“I don’t drink. I prefer to keep a clear head.”

Brent leaned on the table, his fingers intertwined in front of him. “So, Jacqui, Rutherford Construction has built everything from subdivisions to hospitals to theme parks. They’re great at doing stuff that has a Disney-like look to it, which is what you said you wanted for the community center.”

“We have,” Neal said, taking over and helping Brent divert everyone’s attention from the way the conversation had been going. “In one building, a center for children, we built indoor slides that went from the fourth floor down to the first. Kids loved it.”

Jacqui stared at Morgan a moment longer. He just smiled back at her. “It’s true. I’ve been down those slides myself. They’re quite fun.”

Jacqui cocked her head to the side, narrowed her eyes. “You’re pretty cocky for a man trying to convince me to hire him. You don’t seem to be taking this meeting very seriously.”

Neal leaned forward. “I assure you, we are taking this meeting very seriously. Morgan is just used to dealing with construction workers.” Neal shot Morgan a stern look, and Jacqui could tell the boss was not happy with his underling. Good. “I don’t usually take him on these types of meetings, but I assure you, he’s the man for the job. We’re the company for the job.”

Morgan didn’t even look like his boss just reprimanded him. Jacqui would have shaken her head if she hadn’t been at a business meeting. Of course, with his behavior, she should be able to convince Brent they didn’t need Rutherford Construction, and they sure as hell didn’t need Morgan Brewer. She needed serious people around her, people who would take the community center seriously. It was too important for anyone to treat it like a game and from what she could see of Mr. Brewer, everything was a game.

She watched as he leaned forward, ignoring the warning glance from his boss, the owner of the company. He clasped his hands together in front of him, fingers intertwined, that damn cocky grin pushing his tanned cheeks up. “Mrs. Karston, you want to put people to work in your city. We understand that, and Rutherford Construction can do just that. The people we hire will be from right here in the area. I’m the only one relocating for now. I’ll build my team from local people, your people. What you’ll get from us is our experience, expertise, and resources. We know what works, and we have the money to accomplish whatever we need to accomplish. Bottom line, you want to put people to work, and we can do that. We’re not bringing people to Biloxi. We’re bringing money. Isn’t that what the people of Biloxi need?”

Jacqui stared at the man. “Just you? No one else? All local? Then why do I need you?”

“Because we have the clout to pull this off while bringing you in way below budget. We’ll not only be putting money back into your economy, but we’ll be costing you less than if you were to go with someone else. Shoot, we’ll do it for cost, just to be able to showcase our work to others. You save money while putting people to work, and we get to prove ourselves. It’s a deal you can’t, in good conscience, refuse. Everyone wins.”

Brent had already warned her about their financial situation. This project would already cost The Karston Foundation a pretty penny, and they wanted to make the center its own self-sustaining entity. They wanted to come in under budget, so they would not be straining their resources, resources that couldn’t afford to be strained, to be honest, but also so they would have a reserve in place for the center. Morgan Brewer was promising to do just that while helping her community in the process. He was right. She couldn’t refuse. That didn’t mean she had to like it, however.

She was really going to hate working with the man, especially if he continued to give her that cocky-ass grin.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“You’ll be doing this with people you don’t know. You don’t know their history, if they’re good, dependable, anything. You know nothing about this town or its people. What the hell were you thinking telling her you’d be the only outsider coming here?” Neal didn’t even wait until the car had started before launching into his rant. Morgan thought the veins at his boss’s temples would explode. “This is our first job in Biloxi, and we need it to go smoothly. We need people we know can deliver. Now is not the time to wing it.”

Morgan tried not to smile, knowing it would only infuriate Neal more. “We got the job, didn’t we?”

“Yes, but will we be able to keep it?”

“If you didn’t think I could run this project, Neal, why did you bring me up here?”

“I brought you up here to organize one of our crews, get them on their feet until you picked your replacement, not to create a crew from scratch. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking we’d get the contract we came out here to get,” Morgan said, a little more forcefully than he intended. “Look, she didn’t want to hire us. That was obvious. She wanted someone local. She wants the money—her money—to go to the area to help the economy here. So what if we hire locally? The bulk of the money will still go to Rutherford Construction. She’s happy, and we get paid. I’ll have to work harder, perhaps stay a little longer, but eventually it will work out in our favor. Once we’re established, we can slip in some of our more experienced people. When we set up the office staff, we can call someone like Faith Greer to come up and show the new people what to do. She did an awesome job in Tampa. We fly her in for a few days, let her do her stuff, and then turn it over to whoever we’ve hired to manage the office here. Trust me. This is why you brought me here. Allow me to work my magic.”

“Keep your magic in your pants. I don’t want to blow this. You got away with your crap back there because I think it shocked her. Don’t do it again. I want this branch to be aboveboard. We do not need another Edwin situation.”

“That was more of a Cherish situation, but I get it. Relax.” Morgan glanced out the window at the passing businesses. “Any idea where we’ll set up shop?”

“Brent hooked me up with a Realtor who will help us find a home for now. We’re meeting Stacey Rogers at some warehouses off Cedar Lake Road. If this goes well, we’ll do like we did everywhere else and buy some property and set up a permanent facility.”

“Since it looks like I’ll be here a little longer than anticipated, I should probably get an apartment. A hotel is nice, but it’s not home.”

“True. It’s also not cheap.”

Morgan wasn’t really worried about the cost since he wouldn’t be the one footing the bill. The company sent him here, the company could pay. However, he knew it would become tiresome living out of a suitcase for the duration of the project. He wasn’t sure how far along the community center was, whether it was just a twinkle in Jacqui Karston’s eye or if it had at least made it to the architectural drawing board. That could make it worse if nothing had even been planned out, yet. No, he would have to get an apartment. He was sure he could find temporary leasing around Biloxi somewhere. The company would pay for the hotel, but they would not be happy about his eating out every night. Morgan made a mental note to ask Stacey Rogers if she had anything available for a single man. He also wanted something stable in case Jeannie, his ex-wife, allowed Dustin to come out for a weekend or longer here and there. That was truly the saddest part about leaving Orlando. He was away from his son. Of course, it wasn’t as if Jeannie allowed him to visit that often anyway, and with how Rutherford Construction kept him traveling, time was a precious commodity. Still, he wanted to be prepared in case she allowed it, and a hotel was not a place for his visiting son.

The drive didn’t take long, and Stacey Rogers stood outside a cream-colored building with faded paint and dirty windows. There was nothing faded and dirty about Stacey, however. She was a short woman, barely over five-feet tall, with short dark hair, a slender frame, and hips Morgan would love to grip. She smiled, watching them as they exited their car, her eyes twinkling and her blouse buttoned low enough to tempt a man’s gaze. Morgan quickly put on his Sunday-Go-To-Meeting smile and allowed his eyes to roam over her curves. Neal would be all business, so Morgan was free to be all male.

Cedar Lake was a busy road full of small businesses, churches, and easy access to I-10. The building Stacey showed them was a small fenced in office with a warehouse and parking in the rear for larger trucks, which would keep Neal happy with the way he preferred to stock up on supplies and tools.

Introductions were made, Morgan holding her warm hand longer than necessary as he smiled into her emerald eyes. She smiled back as she squeezed his hand, and Neal had to cough to bring them back to their reason for being there.

“So, what can you tell me about the place?” When Stacey turned toward the building, Neal glanced at Morgan and just rolled his eyes. Shrugging, Morgan just winked at his boss.

“It used to be owned by a cable installer until they moved out to the industrial area,” Stacey said as Neal scanned the front of the building. “Brent said you needed office space as well as storage for building materials.” She gave Neal and Morgan the rundown of the area and the cost of the unit. It would cost a tad more because they were only leasing it on a temporary basis, but it had been vacant for three years, so the owner was eager to accept their terms just to get someone in it. Empty buildings tended to be a magnet for trouble.

The location was ideal, because I-10 was just up the road, which gave easy access to travel around to surrounding areas. Neal would appreciate that aspect, Morgan knew. However, if he entertained the idea of searching out other jobs while they were in town, he would need a building he could transform into a dazzling first impression. The outside needed work, a good coat of paint and some weedkiller on the asphalt drive.

Stacey unlocked the double glass doors and opened the right one wide enough for both men to enter. “Light switch is on the right.”

The building was an L-shaped structure with the back half having been used for storage in the past, but with only one bay door. Morgan knew that would never work for long if they intended to make a home in Biloxi. Neal believed in keeping supplies on hand, so they didn’t have to wait on a supplier or risk the supplier being out of stock. It was one of the ways he was able to maintain his deadlines and never come in late. He could also make bulk purchases of inventory, which usually saved him even more money.

The front part of the building was large with one small office to the side. Still, there was room to add more rooms and separate the working people from the clients. There was a musty odor to the place, probably due to the fact it sat vacant for three years. The carpet was stained and old, but that could be replaced quickly and, hopefully, some of the odor would leave with it. The building needed work, but it had great potential. They had set up shop in shabbier looking places. That was the good thing about Neal. He had a way of taking slums and making them high class. Luckily, they would be given the permission to remodel as they needed and at the owner’s expense. That was always a plus.

“Then can we meet at the office to fill out the paperwork, and I can hand you the keys?” Stacey smiled up at Neal with that hopeful look in her eyes.

“I think we can,” he said.

“Afterward, can you show me some apartments?” Morgan glanced back at the building. “It looks like I’ll be here for a while.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Stacey said with a slight sway of her hips.

Neal just rolled his eyes again as he turned to the car.