Zach didn’t disagree on the Rosche drawings. It had been a long shot that she’d agree to use them. But finding her a new job could easily work. It was a well thought out strategy.
“She said it herself,” he explained. “Her long-term goal is to get a good job. She wants her career back on track. And I don’t blame her. Thing is, it doesn’t have to be my building. It could be any building.”
“She wants to stay in New York City,” Dylan confirmed.
“New York City is a very big place. There are plenty of buildings to renovate.”
“So, you invited her to the game, because…?”
That was another element of Zach’s plan. “Because she was wearing a Mets T-shirt that day at her apartment. It turns out, she’s a fan.”
“And odds are she’s never watched a game from a Sterling Suite,” Dylan elaborated.
“I’m betting she hasn’t,” said Zach as he came to a stop near the escalator, glancing around for Kaitlin and Lindsay. “It works exceedingly well on Fortune 500 execs. Besides, my project is temporary. If I can find her a solid offer with a good firm, then she’s got something permanent.”
“And in order to accept the offer, she’ll have to quit your project.”
“Exactly.” Zach couldn’t help but smile at his own genius.
Dylan, on the other hand, had a skeptical expression on his face. “Good luck with that.”
“Here she is,” Zach announced in a loud voice, sending Dylan a quick warning glance.
The plan was perfectly sound. But it would take some finesse. He wouldn’t try to sell her on the idea of a new job right away. Today, he only wanted to smooth the path, get a little closer to her. He’d let her know he was interested in a good outcome for both of them. No reason they had to be at odds.
Next week, he’d make a few calls, talk to a few associates, field offers for her.
Kaitlin broke her way through the escalator lineup and angled toward them.
His mood lifted at the sight of her, and he recognized the danger in that hormonal reaction. It didn’t mean he had a hope in hell of changing it. But it did mean he needed to be careful, keep his emotions in check and hold himself at a distance.
She was wearing a snug white T-shirt, faded formfitting blue jeans, scuffed white sneakers and a blue-and-orange Mets cap with a jaunty ponytail sticking out the back. He’d never had a girl-next-door thing, preferring glitz and glamour in his dates. But it didn’t seem to matter what Kaitlin wore. She’d be his fantasy girl in a bathrobe.
Damn. He had to shut that image down right now.
Her friend Lindsay was a half pace behind her. She had topped a pair of black jeans with a white sleeveless blouse.
They came to a halt.
“Dylan,” Zach said, resisting the urge to reach out and touch Kaitlin, “meet Kaitlin Saville and Lindsay Rubin.”
“The lovely bride,” Dylan teased Kaitlin, and Zach tensed at the edgy joke.
“The pirate,” Lindsay countered with a low laugh, smoothly inserting herself between Dylan and Kaitlin, then shaking his hand.
“Zach’s the pirate,” Dylan informed her, a practiced smile masking his annoyance at what he considered an insulting label.
“I’ve been studying Zach’s family history,” Lindsay countered. “And I also came across yours.”
“Why don’t we head this way.” Zach gestured toward the elevator. He didn’t want an argument to mar the day. Plus, the game was about to start.
Kaitlin followed his lead, and she fell into step beside him.
“A pirate?” she asked him in what sounded like a teasing voice.
That was encouraging.
“So I’m told,” he admitted.
“Well, that explains a lot.”
Before Zach could ask her to elaborate, Lindsay’s voice interrupted from behind. “It seems Caldwell Gilby cut a swath through the Spanish Main, plundering gold, ammunition and rum.”
Zach could well imagine Dylan’s affronted expression. The sparks were about to fly. But he had to admit, he kind of liked Lindsay’s audacity.
“You can’t trust everything you read on the internet,” Dylan returned dryly.
Kaitlin leaned a little closer to Zach, voice lowering. “Is this going to end badly?”
“Depends,” he answered, listening for the next volley.
“I read it in the Oxford Historic Encyclopedia at the NYU Library,” came Lindsay’s tart retort.
“It could end badly,” Zach acknowledged.
While he’d long since accepted the fact that his family’s wealth had its roots in some pretty unsavory characters, Dylan had always chosen to pretend his ancestor fought against the pirate Lyndall Harper, and on the side of justice.