Free It Happened One Week by Joann Ross Page B

“I didn’t really notice.”
    Mary poured another cup of coffee and placed it in front of him. “Reva says she has a very responsible position at that advertising agency.”
    This earned little more than a grunt.
    “I couldn’t help noticing she’s not wearing any ring on her left hand.”
    Dane’s face shuttered. “No offense, Mom, but I really don’t want to talk about Amanda.”
    “Of course, dear,” Mary replied smoothly. But as she turned to the stove and poured pancake batter into an iron skillet, Mary Cutter was smiling.
    Despite instructions that they were to meet at eight o’clock sharp, the team members straggled into the conference room. By the time everyone had gotten coffee, fruit and pastries and taken their seats, it was twenty-eight minutes past the time the kickoff had been scheduled to begin.
    “Well, this is certainly getting off to a dandy start,” muttered Greg, who was sitting beside Amanda at the pine trestle table at the front of the room. “Didn’t you send out my memo letting the troops know I expected them to be prompt?”
    “Of course.” Amanda refrained from pointing out that if one wanted troops to follow orders, it was helpful if theyrespected their commanding officer. “We arrived awfully late last night,” she said, seeking some excuse for the tardy team members. “Everyone was probably a little tired this morning.”
    His only response to her efforts was a muttered curse that did not give Amanda a great deal of encouragement.
    Greg stood and began to outline the week’s activities, striding back and forth at the front of the room like General Patton addressing the soldiers of the Third Army. He was waving his laser pointer at the detailed flowchart as if it were Patton’s famed riding crop. The troops seemed uniformly unimpressed by all the red, blue and yellow rectangles.
    As he set about explaining the need for consistent process and implementation, even Amanda’s mind began to wander, which was why she didn’t hear the door open at the back of the room.
    “I’m sorry to interrupt,” one of last night’s bellmen, who bore an amazing resemblance to Brad Pitt, said. “But Ms. Stockenberg has a phone call.”
    “Take a message,” Greg snapped before Amanda could answer.
    “He says it’s urgent.”
    “I’d better take it,” Amanda said.
    “Just make it quick. I intend to get on schedule.”
    “I’ll be right back.” Amanda resisted the urge to salute.
    The news was not good. “But you have to come,” she insisted when the caller, the man she’d hired to conduct the physical adventure portion of the weekend, explained his predicament. “I understand you’ve broken your leg. But surely you can at least sit on the beach and instruct—”
    She was cut off by a flurry of denial on the other end of the line. “Oh. In traction? I’m so sorry to hear that.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out the antacids she was never without and popped one into her mouth.
    “Well, of course you need to rest. And get well soon.” She dragged her hand through her hair. “There’s no need to apologize. You didn’t fall off that motorcycle on purpose.”
    She hung up the phone with a bit more force than necessary. “Damn.”
    “Got a problem?”
    Amanda spun around and glared up at Dane. “I’m getting a little tired of the way you have of sneaking up on people.”
    “Sorry.” The dancing light in his eyes said otherwise.
    “No.” She sighed and shook her head. “I’m the one who should apologize for snapping at you. It’s just that I really need this week to go well, and before we can even get started on the kayak race, my adventure expert ends up in the hospital.”
    “That is a tough break.”
    She could hear the amusement in his voice. “Don’t you dare laugh at me.”
    “I wouldn’t think of it.” He reached out and rubbed at the parallel lines his mother had smoothed earlier. “I don’t suppose a hotshot businesswoman—with her own