Free Will Work For Love by Amie Denman Page A

drive at
East Pointe.
    “Why, Mr. Maxwell,” Rick drawled sardonically as
Chris pushed open the door of his office. Rick was already sitting
in the chair on the visitor side of Chris’ desk looking through
some work orders and invoices. “Glad you could make it in today,
boss.”
    “You’re lucky I owe you about a dozen favors,
Rick.”
    “Including, but not limited to, the coffee and
aspirin waiting for you on your desk.”
    “How did you know…” growled Chris.
    “A man living a double life and sleeping with the
enemy needs coffee and aspirin.”
    “We didn’t sleep together.”
    “But from the looks of you, I’d guess you stayed up
all night thinking about it.”
    “And it’s hard to picture her as the enemy.”
    “Fail to get her work done in eight days and you’ll
find out.”
    “About that,” Chris said, pausing to take three
aspirin with a swig of coffee. “I’m officially closing Blue Isle
until after New Year’s.”
    Rick threw the folder he had been looking at on the
desk. “Are you crazy?”
    “All part of the plan. If we’re closed, it ties her
hands. She’ll have to accept help from a concerned friend because
she’s got a deadline and no contractor in sight.”
    “You’re a concerned friend now?”
    “Concerned for sure. Friend, well, not sure exactly
what word I’d use to describe myself right now.”
    Rick stared hard at Chris for a minute. “I’m
startin’ to think I could use a vacation.”
    “Take one. Just don’t go too far. I may need you to
stand in for me with Whitney in case something comes up.”
    Rick batted his eyelashes and used a falsetto voice
to say, “Gosh, Chris, I thought you knew I wasn’t that kind of a
girl.”
    “Shut up, Rick,” Chris said affably, his blue eyes
crinkling with laughter. “You know what I mean. Like you said, I’m
playing a dangerous game.”
    “No kidding. Messing around with a girl who’s
getting married in a little over a week. A rich girl. Marrying into
a rich family. Are you looking for a broken heart and a bankrupt
business out of this?”
    Chris sipped his coffee and leaned back in his
chair. Rick was probably right. He usually was. What would happen
if he spent a whole lot more time with Whitney? Already he didn’t
want her to go back to Boston. And he sure didn’t want to see her
get married. Maybe the threat to Blue Isle was the least of his
problems. But right now it was a problem he had to solve.
    “Bear with me, Rick. Right now I can’t show my face
as the owner of Blue Isle Construction.”
    “Or what?”
    “Good question. I think it means all hell will break
loose.”
    Rick chuckled. “Guess that means I get to pretend I
own a thriving, yet strangely unprofitable, construction company.
My daughter will be so proud.”
    “Some days, I’d like to give it away,” said Chris as
he poured the coffee into a travel mug and grabbed a hardhat off a
peg behind his desk.
    “No, you wouldn’t,” Rick answered.
    “Go home and go Christmas shopping for your
grandkids. I’m going to Ella’s to finish up the work on her shop.
I’m sending a grounds crew out to Whitney’s to get rid of the rest
of the tree damage, including that nasty one hanging on the
house.”
    “Then you’re gonna work yourself to death on the
rest of the job?”
    “Gotta. Now, will you record a new message on the
answering machine announcing our holiday shutdown?”
    “What happened to your fake island accent?”
    “I can only get away with so much,” said Chris. And
he knew it was true.
    Chris was on a ladder an hour later, the sun
piercing his tired eyes and sweat pouring down the inside of his
shirt. Why he was still wearing the shirt, he didn’t know. He just
hadn’t bothered to take it off yet. Ella had been out to offer him
cold drinks about three times, interrupting his work with her
friendly talk and sincere thanks. Her flower shop specialized in
delivering flower arrangements for the hotel lobbies and special
requests from