Sisters by Choice (Blackberry Island #4)(36)

Elliot’s expression turned pitying. “You might want a backup candidate.” He motioned his hand to the empty offices. “I’m not sure this is her style.”

Sophie bristled. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“It could be.” He glanced around. “With some work.”

“You know there was a fire, right? The business burned to the ground. Literally. No one who worked for me there wanted to move up here so I came by myself. The company hasn’t even been up and running on the island a month. If you ask me, this is pretty damn close to a miracle.”

“You’re defensive.” Elliot sounded more intrigued than judgmental. “I wouldn’t have expected that. Any other questions you want to ask me?”

“What?”

“For the interview. What did you want to ask me?” He nodded at the folder in front of her. “You have my résumé. Here are some additional references.” He passed her a sheet of paper.

She glanced at the names and saw there were three CEOs of Fortune 500 companies.

“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” she asked, knowing he wasn’t.

Elliot only smiled.

She thought about all he’d said and how he was right about all of it and how no matter how many hours she worked, she never got caught up. She could do it all, but she couldn’t do it on time. Or even close to on time.

“I’d like to offer you the job.”

“Excellent. Put together a package for me by tomorrow. In the meantime, I’ll get started.” He looked around at all the empty offices. “I assume I can take my pick of them?”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

“I’ll check them out. I’ll also want to hire my own staff.”

“You want staff?”

He thought for a moment. “Two people to start with. It may take me a while to find the right people but once I have my team together, we are going to dazzle you.”

She was more caught up in the word team.

“You do know this is a relatively small company, don’t you? Do you really need a team?”

His gaze was steady. “Do you want to do my job, or do you want me to do my job?”

“Do I have to pick?” she asked.

He didn’t answer.

“Fine. You do your job.”

He smiled. “It’s probably for the best.”

  “We could have gotten takeout,” Sophie said conversationally as she sat at the kitchen table in her rental.

“I knew you’d be tired of takeout.”

“While that’s really thoughtful, aren’t you tired of cooking?”

Kristine shook her head. “I’ve been on my own for a week. I haven’t done any cooking for myself.” She’d baked plenty of cookies and brownies, but that was different.

She watched the salmon as it sizzled in the frying pan. Less than a minute, she thought, watching the color change on the side of the piece of fish. She turned up the burner under the pot of water she’d brought to a boil before starting the fish, then dropped in the fresh angel-hair pasta she had ready. After giving it a quick stir, she flipped the fish so the skin side was up, stirred the pasta again and looked at her cousin.

“You could pour the wine.”

“Is that polite speak for make myself useful?”

“It is. Plus, I’ll be leaving you with the mess.”

“That’s more than fair.”

Kristine turned off the heat under the salmon about thirty seconds before the fish was done. She quickly drained the pasta then put it in a preheated frying pan and poured in the pesto sauce she’d made that afternoon. After setting the pan on a burner, she plated the fish, added a sprig of fresh dill and put the plates on the table. She returned to the stove, swirled the pasta a couple of times, then poured it into a serving bowl she’d brought with her and carried that over, as well.

They sat across from each other. Sophie raised her glass.

“Inviting you over for dinner was the best decision I made today.”

Kristine laughed. “I feel the same way. Plus, I appreciate the chance to have pesto. The kids hate it and Jaxsen doesn’t care one way or the other, so I never get to have it.”

Sophie twirled pasta on her fork and took a bite. Her eyes sank closed. “You are the most amazing cook.”

“Thank you. Try the fish. It’s amazing, too.”

“Modest much?”

“I know how to pan-fry salmon. I get to be proud of what I do well.”

“You’re right. Sorry.”

There was a meow from the hallway. A very pregnant white cat walked into the kitchen. She sniffed the air and meowed again.

“Someone else appreciates your cooking,” Sophie said, getting up and pulling a small plate from the cupboard.

“Lily,” Kristine said quietly. “Look at you. You left your carrier.”

“She’s getting more comfortable in the house. She’s not exactly friendly, but she’s not hissing anymore.” Sophie put a small amount of salmon on the plate, then set it on the floor.

“She’s huge,” Kristine said. “The kittens can’t be that far off.”

“I know and it completely freaks me out. I’m not ready.”