Appreciating the blooms in the vase with one last backward glance from the doorway, he smiled. He could just imagine her opening that door and spotting the pink peonies and green hops intertwined with grape vines.

  The combination was unique as well as beautiful, just like her. Not to mention elusive, also just like Poppy. He’d driven two towns away to a florist he’d found online that looked like they had good stuff. They hadn’t lied. She’d know these weren’t a bouquet he’d grabbed from the grocery store.

  It had been worth the trouble—and the expense since fancy flowers were not cheap. Poppy was worth the effort. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have the money. He’d gotten a nice inheritance when his grandfather had died. His brothers and father too. He just hadn’t found a woman he’d wanted to spend money or time on—until now.

  Whistling, he started to plan what he’d get her next week after these flowers started to go downhill. Maybe he’d search and find someplace to buy her namesake flower. Poppies. That would be perfect.

  “What has you in such a good mood?” The comment from Wyatt stopped him in his tracks and he realized as he’d been heading down the hall to his brother’s office to bust his balls while he was there, Wyatt was heading the opposite direction.

  “I’m in a good mood.” He shrugged, then asked, “Where are you going?”

  “I’m heading down to the restaurant to see my daughter.”

  “And your girlfriend,” Ethan added, not letting Wyatt get away with playing the devoted father when the truth was he’d never give up an opportunity to see Olivia during a workday.

  For a man who had to be forced to take a day off just a few months ago, he’d been working from home quite a bit since Olivia had moved in. Of course that could have something to do with the fact that Darcy took long ass naps in the middle of the day and the house was empty while Ethan and their father were out working on the ranch.

  Wyatt nodded. “Yes, she’ll be there too.”

  Olivia wasn’t the only one who’d be there.

  With Poppy in his sights and on his mind, Ethan turned to face the direction Wyatt was headed. “I’ll come with you.”

  “Wonderful,” Wyatt said, the word dripping with sarcasm, only made Ethan smile.

  “Yes, it is, isn’t it?” There was extra pep in Ethan’s step as he matched his brother’s pace and headed for the dining room.

  The sound of Olivia’s voice as she animatedly informed Darcy that her father had arrived greeted them in the doorway.

  Darcy squealed, “Daddy!” just before the tiny five-year old projectile slammed into Wyatt’s legs.

  Ethan swept his gaze in the direction of where his niece had come from and spotted the table and, more importantly, Poppy.

  He strode to them, swung around a chair from the empty table next to them, and positioned himself between Poppy and Eva.

  “Hello, ladies. Enjoying your lunch?” He caught the pout on Poppy’s pretty lips. Those flowers he’d put on her desk would turn that frown upside down. But for now, he bumped his shoulder into hers. “What’s up with you, princess?”

  She cocked up a brow. “Besides you crashing our lunch? And calling me princess?”

  “Hey, don’t blame me for being here. Wyatt invited me.” Ethan’s little white lie coincided with Wyatt and Darcy’s arrival at the table, earning him a sideways glance from his brother.

  Wyatt sat in Darcy’s recently vacated chair and planted the little girl in his lap.

  “This is cozy,” Ethan said, glancing around the group. “We should do this more often.”

  “I was under the assumption you had a job elsewhere. Or have you quit that to pursue your newfound interest in hotel event planning?” With the snark clear in Poppy’s comment, she turned in her seat to level a stare directly on him.

  “I told Poppy you’re putting together a proposal for the Wilder events. Or have you moved on from that idea already?” Wyatt asked.

  “No, I have not, ye of little faith. You’ll have your proposal. When do you need that by?”

  “CEPS is making their presentation next week,” Wyatt said.

  “Who?” Ethan frowned.

  “Wyatt is bringing in a corporate events company to pitch their ideas,” Poppy explained.

  He didn’t miss the edge in her tone. She wasn’t happy. He didn’t blame her.

  “It doesn’t hurt to hear as many ideas as possible,” Wyatt said to deafening silence.

  Ethan glanced around the group and realized Poppy’s friends were suspiciously quiet and were in fact looking less than happy themselves regarding Wyatt’s explanation.

  Was that Poppy’s problem? She was upset Wyatt had brought in this company?

  These women stuck together. They’d been through a lot as a group this year. Ethan had a feeling he and Wyatt had stumbled into a bitch fest. Most likely with Wyatt as the object of their bitching for bringing in this company.

  A closer look revealed that Olivia wasn’t beaming from just being in Wyatt’s presence, like usual. Eva had a pissy look on her face in reaction to Wyatt’s statement. And this was one of the rare occasions he’d seen Poppy not bubbling with glee like she usually did when with her friends.

  Very telling. And except that he hated seeing Poppy unhappy, kind of satisfying. Growing up with a perfect big brother, who also took on martyr status as a widowed single dad, hadn’t been easy. It was kind of nice that Mr. Perfect could slip from grace in his girlfriend’s eyes.

  Ethan cleared his throat. “Seems to me you’d get plenty of good ideas between Poppy and me. Ideas from people who know and love Roan Mountain and Bitter End. Where’s this company from?” he asked, hoping his solidarity with Poppy would earn him some points with her and her friends. But also completely believing what he said was true.

  “California,” Wyatt answered.

  “Calif—” Ethan couldn’t even finish saying the word as he sputtered with shock. “What the hell—heck—do they know about the Wilder or this town?” He shot his niece a glance, hoping she hadn’t caught his slip up.

  Wyatt shook his head. “They know event planning. Location doesn’t matter.”

  Ethan widened his eyes at his brother’s short sightedness. “I disagree.”

  Wyatt sighed. “Ethan, you don’t know event planning.”

  “Poppy does. And I know this area,” Ethan defended.

  “Ethan—” Wyatt began.

  “Wyatt,” Ethan mimicked his brother’s tone. “You’re wrong, bro.”

  Wyatt sighed. “Think what you want.”

  Being dismissed didn’t sit well with Ethan. Not at all. “I’m not going to just think it. I’m going to prove it to you.”

  “I look forward to it.” Wyatt dismissed him again, which nearly got Ethan out of his chair as he fought the urge to pummel his brother like when they were young.

  So Wyatt didn’t even think he was worth fighting with? Fine. That only made him more determined.

  He’d accept losing to Poppy even if he did hate the idea of the tea and scones, but he’d be damned if he lost to this California company. He’d prove his cocky brother wrong. Just watch and see.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “I guess I’d better get back to work.” While she still had a job. Poppy left that last thought unspoken. Miserable in her self-pity, she hadn’t even been able to enjoy her lunch with her friends, even before Wyatt and Ethan had shown up.

  Thankfully, the men had left early. Wyatt to get back to work. Ethan to do whatever he did all day. Although, she had to admit, Ethan had come out swinging as an unexpected ally in her corner.

  Unfortunately, Ethan’s support, though nice, did her no good. It was Wyatt she had to impress. And this CEPS person she had to beat.

  “Poppy?” The sound of her name, spoken as a question by a man who looked like a Ken doll come to life, brought her head up.

  “Yes.”

  The Ken doll flashed blinding white teeth her way and extended his slender hand. “I’m Montgomery McDonnell.”

  She took his hand to shake. After being surrounded by men who worked with horses and cattle, or cars and motors, his were the first manicured hands she’d seen since arriving in Bitter End. Even Wyatt, who wore a suit and sat at a desk in his role as hotel manager, had the hands of a ranch hand since that was the world he grew up in.

  “Nice to meet you.” She still wasn’t sure why he’d introduced himself, or how he knew her name, but her manners were ingrained by multiple generations of Van Clief women who’d had a hand in her upbringing.

  “I wanted to introduce myself. I’m from Corporate Event Planning Specialists.”

  “Oh.” Her smile faltered before she regained her composure.

  This was the guy from the company who’d come to ruin her life. He somehow seemed less handsome and far less perfect than before.

  “I hadn’t realized you’d arrived already,” she continued.

  “We arrived yesterday.”

  “We? So you have your team with you?”

  “Just myself and my partner. You’ll meet her shortly, I’m sure. We’ll be here all week.”

  “Oh, great.” Smile and pretend everything was just fine. This was her new reality.

  God, she missed the days she smiled for real because she was genuinely happy. Was that only a few days ago? It seemed like she’d been pretending for longer than that.

  “I’ll let you ladies enjoy your lunch. I just wanted to say hello and let you know I left something for you on your desk.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll look for it. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. Enjoy, ladies.” With a nod, he was gone and so was Poppy’s smile.

  “He was nice,” Olivia said, watching him leave the dining room.

  “Glad you think so since when Wyatt replaces me with that Corporate Event Planner Ken doll you’ll be seeing plenty of him.” Poppy scowled.

  “If that isn’t the Barbie calling the Ken a doll.” Eva lifted her brows high.

  Darcy lifted her head from her coloring book at the mention of Barbies and Kens.

  Olivia shot Eva a wide-eyed glance before leaning down and saying, “What a pretty picture. You’re doing a great job, Darcy. Keep going.” Straightening again, Olivia turned to Poppy. “And he would never fire you.”

  Eva nodded. “I agree. You do all the everyday management stuff for the spa, right? It doesn’t matter if this guy is the one designing the events.”

  “I want to design the events.” She pouted hating the whine she heard in her own voice.

  That didn’t change the fact that she didn’t want a pity job. And she really didn’t want to watch that Ken doll doing what she should be. What used to be her job.

  And as much as she enjoyed all her duties, she didn’t want the sum total of her job to be reordering the stock of nail polish for the spa.

  She wanted to do what she went to school for. Manage events. Create experiences. Design change. Make a difference.

  “Then do it,” Olivia said. “Come up with a plan for your own events and beat this guy.”

  “I guess.” This roller coaster of emotions--alternating highs and lows depending on who she talked to last—was really starting to wear on her.

  “No guessing about it. I thought we settled this over breakfast at Rosie’s this morning.” Eva leveled a stare on her.

  “We did.” But Wyatt’s early visit with news of CEPS had derailed her whole morning.

  And now this CEPS guy was here… But if she couldn’t beat some cookie cutter corporate drone, then she wasn’t worth that diploma her mother had framed for her. Time to suck it up and get things done.

  She pushed her chair back and stood. “Let me get back. I have an event schedule to create.”

  “And you have to see what Corporate Ken left on your desk,” Eva reminded.

  Poppy turned toward her friend, brow cocked high. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to call him Ken.”

  “I decided I like it, so it’s okay, Barbie,” Eva said with a toothy grin.

  “Great.” Poppy rolled her eyes at her friend.

  It wasn’t the first time someone had called her Barbie and it probably wouldn’t be the last. At least Eva was her friend. Besides, she had bigger battles to fight.

  “All right. Time for work.”

  “Good luck,” Eva said.

  “You can do it. I have faith in you,” Olivia added.

  Even Darcy lifted her head and said, “Bye, Poppy.”

  She ruffled the child’s dark hair and said, “Bye, sweetie.”

  Her little found family. She loved them all, and in spite of their differences, they loved her too.

  With a renewed energy and possibly misplaced confidence, Poppy made her way back upstairs and to her office.

  She had brainstorming to do. And googling… She’d need to search attractions in the area.

  It wasn’t lost on her how pitiful that sounded. A Master’s Degree and she was relying on Google to save her job. It was a sad day. But desperate times… She’d do whatever she had to to save her job.

  All she could do was try. Ultimately, the decision would be Wyatt’s. But she wasn’t going to let the Ken doll win by default.

  Opening the door to her office, the first thing that struck her was the sight of a gorgeous floral arrangement that hadn’t been there before she’d gone to lunch.

  She moved to the desk, leaning low to sniff the pink peony, which was when the navy blue folder caught her eye.

  The gold embossed lettering on the folder spelled out Corporate Event Planning Specialists. She pulled back when she read the name of her corporate nemesis on the folder beneath the flowers.

  The flowers… Were they from him?

  And if so, what was his game? Did he not know they were in competition? Was his plan to butter her up in hopes she’d put in a good word with Wyatt and help secure him the job?

  He was handsome and charming, at least at first glance. He was also the competition and a perfect little corporate Ken doll.

  Flowers or no flowers, she didn’t trust him. Not one little bit.

  She narrowed her eyes at the bouquet, taking out her suspicions on the innocent blooms until their beauty overcame her anger.

  Dammit. The flowers were perfect. Amazing. She didn’t want to love them but she did and that made her resent McDougall McDonald McDowell—or whatever his name was—even more.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Her door was open. Ethan paused in the hallway just outside it.

  Poppy held the strands of her long blonde hair with one hand to keep them from falling forward as, head bowed, she concentrated on something in a folder on her desk.

  She lifted her head as if some sixth sense told her she was being watched.

  Springing into action, he rapped his knuckles against the heavy door and said, “Knock, knock.”

  Drawing in a breath, she straightened and blinked a few times. “What are you doing here so late?” she asked.

  He could ask her the same. All the executive offices he’d passed to get to hers were empty, the occupants having all gone home. Including Wyatt.

  Ethan took a few steps forward until he reached her desk. “I had to drop a case of honey off at the gift shop.”

  She looked completely confused at his answer. He decided to help her out and explain.

  “The honey the gift shop sells is from the Wilder hives at the ranch. We make it. Or rather our honey bees make it. We just harvest and bottle it.”

  A crease marred the skin between her brows. “I didn’t know that.”

  He let out a short laugh. “That’s because you haven’t been around for the honey harvest yet to hear Linc and me bitching about getting stung. This is the last batch from last year.”

  She reached for a stack of pink and purple sticky notes. And here he’d thought they only came in yellow. “That’s something that should be in the literature. On the website. Definitely on a sign in the gift shop. These are the kinds of things I need to know to do my job—”

  As she scribbled something furiously on her little pink pad and ranted, he reached out and touched her arm. “Poppy.”

  With an agitated huff, she glanced up. “What?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I told you. I need to know—“

  “This is about more than the honey. What’s up with you?” He rested one butt cheek on her desk next to the flowers he’d bought.

  With a slightly less violent expulsion of air, she nudged the open folder on her desk toward him. “That’s what’s up.”

  Frowning, he lifted the folder and started to read from the slick printed pages featuring brightly colored photos of annoyingly happy-looking people.

  He read the words printed above the pictures. Corporate Event Planning Specialists Team Building Menu. We come to you.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “The catalog from the company that’s pitching the new event schedule for the Wilder to Wyatt.”

  “That California company? Sepsis, or whatever?” he asked.

  A small smile tipped up the corner of her mouth. “CEPS. And yes.”

  “Fuck them. These ideas suck.”

  “No, they don’t. They’re great. And there are over a dozen of them. There’s no ideas left, so now anything I pitch for corporate events will look like a copy of their ideas.”

  He glanced back at the page. He wouldn’t do even one of the things on the list. Maybe that’s why he handled the ranch while Wyatt ran the corporate shit. Things like corporate team building. Ugh. He’d rather face the rankest bull in the pen than do any of this shit.

  “It’s all bullshit. I’ll tell you how to build a team. Good hard work. Not by—“ He referred back to the page. “Building paper airplanes together.”

  Jeez, what a waste of time and energy.

  “Companies really pay for this kind of shit?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “Pay quite well, actually.”

  He didn’t know about this corporate shit but he knew people. “There are still ideas to come up with. What about stuff for normal people to do? You know. Families. People on vacation. Or like the spa ladies that you wanted to have tea and wine tastings for?”