Free Red Velvet (Silk Stocking Inn #1) by Tess Oliver, Anna Hart Page A

“Said the woman who probably stepped on and crushed a lot of men on her way to the vice president’s chair.”
    “First of all, I’m not talking about men in that particular context. And secondly, I earned that position with hard work and if I left some men behind my wake, it’s only because they didn’t work as hard.” I tried to keep the huff out of my tone, but as my words sputtered back to me, I realized I was saying it more for myself than to correct Grayson. My shoulders relaxed as I reflected more about what I’d just said. “I worked hard. I earned it.” The last comments were just for me.
    “You sound surprised.” His deep voice popped me from my self-revelation.
    “I wasn’t really letting myself believe that I deserved the position. I think that’s why I wasn’t overwhelmed with excitement when the owner announced it. I was so certain that a man would get the job, I hadn’t absorbed the idea that I’d been picked for it.”
    “Well then—” He lifted his mostly empty glass for another toast. “Here’s to finally letting yourself deserve and accept the fact that you are awesome at what you do.”
    I tapped my glass against his. “And here’s to the man who is great at giving toasts and fixing roofs and looking amazingly good while he’s doing it.”
    He laughed. “So, I’m really just a sex object in work boots, huh?”
    I opened my mouth to apologize.
    “No, that’s all right,” he said. “I kind of like that.”
    “Jeez, that was quite the double standard, wasn’t it? I might be a vice president, but sometimes, I’m just a ditz.” I took another sip. “Tell me about yourself. You know all about my inner demons and my rise to success. What about you, Grayson?”
    He stared out at the scenery with the empty glass dangling from his fingers. “Not much to tell except that I like to work with my hands. Success to me is finishing a project and doing it well. I love to bring old things back to life, like this old place.”
    “There are infinite definitions for success. It’s whatever makes you feel accomplished, like you’ve put your mark on something.”
    His mouth turned up into that breath stopping smile as he turned to me. “Look who’s tossing out well-thought, charming comments now.”
    “Then, in the interest of weekend fun, I’d like to revert back to my more scandalous side and add that you are exceptionally skilled with your hands. Never experienced anything quite like it.”
    He reached over and took my hand and brought it to his mouth for a kiss. “Allow me to demonstrate even more skills later this evening. You’ll be around?”
    “I will.”

Chapter 14
    The delicious fragrance of pot roast snaked its way up the staircase, through the hallway and beneath my door. I pulled on the dress that Coco had so graciously left for me. I combed my rather unruly hair back with my fingers. Not once this weekend had I bothered with a hair dryer or flat iron, opting instead for my natural wave. As I glanced in the antique mirror in the bedroom, I realized I liked the wild, unkempt look for a change. Normally, I pulled my hair into a prim bun at the back of my head to keep up a more professional appearance. It felt good not to be fussing with my hair for a change.
    The soft cotton dress, made of a blue calico fabric, fluttered around my legs. The front of the sleeveless bodice buttoned up. It was a bit snug on top, but, otherwise, it was as if Coco knew my exact measurements. The dress looked great. I hated to admit it, but the woman was far better than me at picking my wardrobe. Or maybe I was just always so focused on making a confident impression that I never thought out of the box. A simple calico dress would certainly have never crossed my mind.
    I twirled around once. I had no shoes to go with it, but somehow, barefoot worked just fine. And I was fairly certain that was exactly why my more than spectacular hostess hadn’t left me any. I’d toyed with the idea of