Read Online Fielder's Choice by Pamela Aares - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Pamela Aares
Ads: Link
desk. On the screen was a PayPal confirmation for the camps.
“I guessed your password, Dad. Shortstop —what a lame password. Grandma said that anybody could guess it.”
“Grandma helped you with this?”
“She just did the parts I couldn’t figure out. She’s good with computers, did you know that?”
His mother was good with many things, but her helping Sophie like this surprised him. And running into Alana all summer would make his resolve not to pursue her that much harder.
“You can’t go to all those camps at the ranch, Sophie, it’s too much. What about the horseback riding camp and the kayaking camps we visited?”
Sophie plunked down on her bed and crossed her arms. “You said you wanted me to go to camp and these are the camps I want to go to. You said .”
That was Sophie’s code phrase for reminding him that he’d promised her something and that she expected him to be true to his word. In the future he’d have to be more specific.
He read over the confirmation. Way more specific.
Chapter 7
Alana slammed the door of the Land Rover. After a two-hour meeting with the planning commission, she wasn’t any closer to getting the windmill approved. They’d been impressed with the energy it would generate, had nodded approval when she’d explained that the ranch would be able to sell energy back to the grid and serve as a source of auxiliary power in case of an emergency.
But the neighbors were still the sticking point. Relationships in the county ran deep. Unless she got the community on board, the project wasn’t going forward, no matter how green it was. It hadn’t helped matters any that she’d missed the fundraiser. No one said anything directly, but the icy stares said enough.
Adding to the challenge was a small but vocal and well-organized group of citizens from the north part of the county who were worried about birds and noise and precedence. Precedence . Like anyone else was going to shell out a quarter of a million dollars for a state-of-the-art windmill.
She’d just have to meet with the crotchety neighbor, Mr. Hartman; there was no way around it. But she only had two hours before the limo picked her up, and she still wasn’t packed for her trip to Paris.
She leaned against the Land Rover and called Marcel. As she waited for him to answer, she noted the line of SUVs parked along the drive in front of the frantoio.
“You are always my favorite ring tone,” Marcel said in a drowsy voice.
She glanced at her watch. “Sorry. The day got away from me. Were you sleeping?”
“Dreaming.”
“Marcel, this is a terrible week for me to get away. Maybe I could come at the end of next week.”
“I have tickets to La Bohème. ”
The rat. Dmitri Popov was singing the lead. Marcel knew her weaknesses.
“In that case, I’ll see you for lunch tomorrow,” she said as she headed toward the house.
“ Parfait . I’ll chill the champagne.”
She pocketed her phone. Then she saw Matt walk around to the back of his BMW, parked at the end of the line of SUVs, and let Sophie out.
Sophie saw her and waved. Matt turned and stared.
Alana was wearing her sleekest Armani suit and heels. Her attire hadn’t impressed the planning commission, but it obviously had an effect on Matt.
Her breath caught in her chest as he looked her over.
Not knowing what else to do, she waved at them. Sophie tugged on Matt’s shirt, and he raised his hand and waved, but he didn’t smile. Sophie put her hands to her hips, and he leaned down to listen, giving Alana the freedom to stare.
His polo shirt accentuated the broad reach of his muscled shoulders, and it was tucked into snug-fitting jeans that made him look like an Olympian god come to earth, comfortably clad in a pair of custom Levis. A jolt of desire shot through her. Though she could’ve enjoyed soaking in a few more moments of fine male physique and the luscious warmth that watching Matt spread in her blood, she dragged her gaze
“I guessed your password, Dad. Shortstop —what a lame password. Grandma said that anybody could guess it.”
“Grandma helped you with this?”
“She just did the parts I couldn’t figure out. She’s good with computers, did you know that?”
His mother was good with many things, but her helping Sophie like this surprised him. And running into Alana all summer would make his resolve not to pursue her that much harder.
“You can’t go to all those camps at the ranch, Sophie, it’s too much. What about the horseback riding camp and the kayaking camps we visited?”
Sophie plunked down on her bed and crossed her arms. “You said you wanted me to go to camp and these are the camps I want to go to. You said .”
That was Sophie’s code phrase for reminding him that he’d promised her something and that she expected him to be true to his word. In the future he’d have to be more specific.
He read over the confirmation. Way more specific.
Chapter 7
Alana slammed the door of the Land Rover. After a two-hour meeting with the planning commission, she wasn’t any closer to getting the windmill approved. They’d been impressed with the energy it would generate, had nodded approval when she’d explained that the ranch would be able to sell energy back to the grid and serve as a source of auxiliary power in case of an emergency.
But the neighbors were still the sticking point. Relationships in the county ran deep. Unless she got the community on board, the project wasn’t going forward, no matter how green it was. It hadn’t helped matters any that she’d missed the fundraiser. No one said anything directly, but the icy stares said enough.
Adding to the challenge was a small but vocal and well-organized group of citizens from the north part of the county who were worried about birds and noise and precedence. Precedence . Like anyone else was going to shell out a quarter of a million dollars for a state-of-the-art windmill.
She’d just have to meet with the crotchety neighbor, Mr. Hartman; there was no way around it. But she only had two hours before the limo picked her up, and she still wasn’t packed for her trip to Paris.
She leaned against the Land Rover and called Marcel. As she waited for him to answer, she noted the line of SUVs parked along the drive in front of the frantoio.
“You are always my favorite ring tone,” Marcel said in a drowsy voice.
She glanced at her watch. “Sorry. The day got away from me. Were you sleeping?”
“Dreaming.”
“Marcel, this is a terrible week for me to get away. Maybe I could come at the end of next week.”
“I have tickets to La Bohème. ”
The rat. Dmitri Popov was singing the lead. Marcel knew her weaknesses.
“In that case, I’ll see you for lunch tomorrow,” she said as she headed toward the house.
“ Parfait . I’ll chill the champagne.”
She pocketed her phone. Then she saw Matt walk around to the back of his BMW, parked at the end of the line of SUVs, and let Sophie out.
Sophie saw her and waved. Matt turned and stared.
Alana was wearing her sleekest Armani suit and heels. Her attire hadn’t impressed the planning commission, but it obviously had an effect on Matt.
Her breath caught in her chest as he looked her over.
Not knowing what else to do, she waved at them. Sophie tugged on Matt’s shirt, and he raised his hand and waved, but he didn’t smile. Sophie put her hands to her hips, and he leaned down to listen, giving Alana the freedom to stare.
His polo shirt accentuated the broad reach of his muscled shoulders, and it was tucked into snug-fitting jeans that made him look like an Olympian god come to earth, comfortably clad in a pair of custom Levis. A jolt of desire shot through her. Though she could’ve enjoyed soaking in a few more moments of fine male physique and the luscious warmth that watching Matt spread in her blood, she dragged her gaze
Similar Books
