When We Met (Fool's Gold #13)

“He skis,” Kenny added, sounding impressed. “He knows Kipling Gilmore.”


Taryn had learned long ago that it was easier to fit in with her business partners than to fight the inevitable. Besides, there were three of them and only one of her. So she’d learned the language of sports. She could intelligently discuss nearly every game played with a ball or even a puck. She understood which had innings, quarters and periods. Every year she sat with the boys during the NFL draft and listened to them tell what it had been like for them when they’d gone through it. Which meant she knew exactly who Kipling Gilmore was.

Kipling Gilmore was an American skier who had dominated at the Olympics. He’d taken the gold in both the Super-G and the combined events.

“I’m sure they’re brushing each other’s hair even as we speak,” she said.

Kenny shook his head. “Why aren’t you impressed by sports celebrities?”

“Because I have you and Sam and Jack already. What could be better?”

“Good answer,” Jack told her, and patted the backpack again. “Cole’s excited about our meeting. The plan is for us to do an introductory presentation. Then we go camping for the weekend, followed by a more detailed discussion of what we could do for him.”

Taryn nodded. This wasn’t the first time a client had made that sort of a request. Many of them wanted to be sure the PR firm understood the product. They’d had a great time in Cabo with a client who made tequila. She had a feeling that for her, camping equipment and sports gear wouldn’t be as fun. Not that she would get that intimately involved.

She was about to tell them to have a good time when she noticed how Kenny and Jack were looking at everything but each other. And her.

“What?” she demanded. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Kenny nudged Jack. “You do it.”

“You said you would.”

“You were married to her.”

Jack sighed. “Chicken.”

“I’m good with that,” Kenny admitted, then smiled at her. “Jack has something to tell you.”

Taryn didn’t like the tone of this conversation. “I’ve guessed that.” She looked at Jack and raised her eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Cole wants us to take a weekend trip with him.”

She nodded.

“All of us.”

“Sure. You, Kenny and Sam.” She paused as his gaze stayed locked on her face, then stood up and stepped behind her chair. Not to mention away from the backpack. “No.”

“Taryn, you’re a partner in the firm. He said all the partners. It’s only for a couple of days.”

“It’s camping. Outdoors. On purpose. It’s one thing if you crash your car and end up in a ravine. That could happen to anyone. Then sleeping outside until you’re rescued is no big deal. Because you can’t help it. But this is on purpose. In dirt.”

“We’d go to a campsite,” Kenny added quickly. “With bathrooms.”

Jack elbowed him. Kenny winced. “Okay, not the running-water kind.”

“That’s disgusting. You can pee standing up. That’s not an option for me.”

She didn’t do the outdoors. Didn’t like it. When she needed to commune with nature, she dined alfresco. Or bought a plant. Her most athletic project to date was planning how her walled-in garden was going to look. So far it was all on paper. She had yet to touch actual soil.

“Have you seen my shoes? Do I look like a camper to you?”

Jack walked around her desk and approached her. He put his large hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “Taryn, this is a big account. Not so much in size but in opportunity. We’ve worked the distribution side of things, but we’ve never made it in the retail world. This is our way in. It’s one weekend of camping. We’ll all be there with you. This is important to all of us.”

She looked at him and knew he was right. About all of it. She sighed. “I’ll do it.”

“Really?” Kenny sounded surprised. “That’s great. We can help you prepare, if you want.”

“No, thanks. I’ll take care of that end of things.”

No way she wanted the guys watching her struggle to learn whatever it was she needed to know to camp. It was hard enough keeping them all in line without giving them that much ammunition. Besides, she thought, remembering a pair of broad shoulders and cool gray eyes, she had resources.

“You won’t regret this,” Jack told her with a grin. “It’s going to be great. We’ll get the account and then there’s no stopping us.”

He and Kenny headed out of her office. When he was in the doorway, Jack turned back and pointed to the pack. “You can keep that,” he said graciously. “It’s got everything you’re going to need for our weekend.”

“Great.”

She waited until they left before moving toward her desk. She poked the backpack, then went to pick it up. It didn’t budge.

She tried again, this time using two hands, and was barely able to lift it off the desk.