LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Get rid of them.”

      Tyler tidied the kitchen before heading upstairs to shower and dress. In the bathroom, he took out his electric shaver and began running it over his jaw.

      Perhaps he could invite Sarah Fullerton to lunch as an apology—be tactful and treat her the way he would a difficult client. If she understood how important it was, she might even encourage his mother to quit and return home with Nathan.

      Tyler nodded at his reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t much of a plan, but at least it was something.

      * * *

      SARAH STARTED A batch of bread while the rest of her employees finished clearing up from the breakfast sprint. Preparing and delivering breakfast to Poppy Gold was always a tight operation. She was exhausted from lack of sleep and lingering tension but refused to slow down.

      She’d just put eight pans of Nebraska oatmeal bread into the oven when Aurelia came in. “Uh, Sarah, that guy from yesterday is back,” she said in a low tone. “He wants to talk to you.”

      Why couldn’t he leave her alone?

      “All right, I’ll be there in a minute.”

      Gabby took over while Sarah removed her apron. Tyler Prentiss was on the sidewalk, so she stepped outside. “Yes, Mr. Prentiss?”

      He gave her a deliberate smile he probably thought was charming. “Please, it’s Tyler. I came to apologize. I’m sorry for the way I behaved yesterday. It was inappropriate. Normally I’m quite calm and controlled.”

      “Okay,” she said cautiously.

      “Please let me take you to lunch so that I can explain. I checked on restaurants in the area. The steakhouse sounds good.”

      Sarah blinked. Why did he think she’d want to eat with him? “Uh...sorry, I don’t take long lunches.” Perhaps he didn’t understand the demands of her business. She might be the owner, but that meant she had even less free time than anyone else.

      “Maybe we could discuss it now.”

      She let out a breath. “I’ve accepted your apology, so there’s nothing to discuss.”

      A hint of unidentifiable emotion flickered in his eyes. Today, at least, Tyler Prentiss was projecting the dark, brooding thing perfectly, giving the impression that something more intense was going on.

      “That isn’t entirely the case,” he said politely. “You heard me talking with my mother yesterday, so you’re aware that my brother should still be in rehab. I was hoping that if you knew more about the situation, you’d help.”

      Sarah cocked her head. “I don’t see how. Rosemary told me about Nathan’s injuries, but I’ve never met him. Oh, unless you’re thinking my dad could do something... I know he’s been spending time with your brother.”

      “Actually, I hoped you’d urge Mom to go home. Then Nathan would go, as well.”

      Sarah released an exasperated breath. “Doing that would make Rosemary believe I’m unhappy with her work, which isn’t the case.”

      “Maybe, but why did you hire her in the first place?” Tyler asked. “Mom doesn’t have any experience. And promoting her so quickly?”

      Sarah could barely control her irritation. Her ex-husband had made her feel as if she was incapable of making her own decisions, and she refused to let that happen again.

      “I’m not going to justify myself. This is my shop. Your mom says you’re an architect. How would you like me to ask why you chose to put skylights or recycle chutes into one of your building designs?”

      “It isn’t the same,” he returned in a clipped tone. She might have hit a nerve, though it was hard to tell with Tyler. He seemed to have no problem revealing anger, but his other emotions were much less clear.

      “It’s exactly the same. That’s your business—this is mine,” she retorted.

      Tyler’s brown eyes focused intensely on her, but she could tell little from his expression. “Fair enough. Look, I know my mother. She’s a lovely woman with good intentions, but she isn’t the nine-to-five type.”

      “She’s working eight-to-four, though that’s beside the point. It’s up to Rosemary if she wants to return to the East Coast with your brother—I’m not going to manipulate her. And for your information, she asked for the job—I didn’t twist her arm to take it.”

      “I’m sure you didn’t since she doesn’t have any qualifications,” he snapped.

      No matter what Tyler seemed to think, Sarah wondered how well he actually knew his mother. Experience could be gained without a paycheck. From what Rosemary had said about her volunteer work, she had a huge amount of management experience.

      Yet in a way, Tyler had a point. Rosemary was a visitor to Glimmer Creek, staying at Poppy Gold temporarily. She’d said nothing about moving permanently to California or whether she would leave when Nathan was ready.

      Tyler cleared his throat. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. It’s just that I don’t know what to do. Nathan isn’t getting the care he needs and Mom is so annoyed with me, I doubt she’ll listen to anything I have to say for a while.”

      Sarah suppressed a smile. The way he’d made the stiff, embarrassed admission was almost endearing; plainly he wasn’t comfortable relying on anyone else.

      “You may be right,” she acknowledged. “But can I ask you something?”

      “Of course,” Tyler said, seeming wary.

      “Well, I get why Nathan might be better off in rehab, but what will you do if he keeps refusing?”

      * * *

      IT WAS A valid question, and Tyler wished he had an answer. Confiding in anyone was miles outside his comfort zone, but he might be forced into it. His mother and Nathan’s welfare were too important, and right now Sarah Fullerton seemed the most likely person who could help.

      Yet before he could say anything else, Sarah stirred restlessly. “Sorry, but morning is my busiest period. I need to get back to my kitchen.”

      Tyler let out a sigh of his own as she turned and disappeared into the bakery. He’d been right about her figure—without the chef’s apron, her body was a delectable balance of slim lines and curves.

      He shook his head to clear it. Getting distracted by a beautiful woman was the last thing he needed.

      Officially he was under investigation for a recent building collapse in the greater Chicago area, an incident that had injured five men. Prior to the start of construction, Milo Corbin, the owner, had demanded unsafe modifications to the plans. He’d grown so unreasonable that Tyler had resigned from the project. Changes had subsequently been made to his original design, but Corbin and the second architect were still trying to shift the blame to Tyler.

      They wouldn’t be successful.

      Tyler had gone over his original blueprints and knew they were sound. He’d also kept careful documentation about the alterations Corbin had wanted. Nonetheless, Tyler felt responsible. He should have done more to prevent construction from moving ahead.

      Ironically, Corbin had promptly screamed for Tyler’s help after the collapse, so he’d flown to Illinois from Italy to spend a couple of days helping with the search-and-rescue efforts. After all, he’d studied the changes Corbin had wanted and predicted they’d lead to structural failure, so he was reasonably certain of where and how the damage had occurred. With the city engineer out of town, Tyler had even signed a waiver and gone into the building to advise on the safest way to extract trapped workers.

      What he didn’t understand was why a particular concrete wall hadn’t held. The thing had crumbled unexpectedly, bringing debris down on him and one of the firemen. Though injured, Tyler had pocketed a chunk of the concrete for later

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