All Chapters of The Rutherford Series: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

He could tell he threw her off, and that pleased him to no end. Of course, Morgan was smart enough to not show it. Now was not the time to be cocky. It would only piss her off more. Neal would kill Morgan if he managed to screw up and lose the contract after he was the one who landed the gig in the first place. It wouldn't hurt anything for him to play nice with Jacqui Karston for a bit. He could always track down that waitress after Miss Uptight left."I prefer steaks, to be honest, but seafood is a nice change of pace. I'm very low maintenance when it comes to food. Being a bachelor living alone, I tend to eat on the fly mostly. Fast food joints, sadly, are my chefs. Do you eat out a lot?""No. Sophia, my housekeeper, cooks for my father and me. He moved in after becoming paralyzed in an accident. However, I am also forced to attend quite a few functions and business dinners, trapped into eating quite a few things I'd rather skip.""I'm sorry to hear that about your father. That has

Morgan jerked the legs open of a folding table he had bought on his way to the new office. He had purchased some cheap folding chairs and office supplies, as well. While he wouldn't order furniture until the interior had been remodeled, he still needed a place to work until the temporary trailer arrived, which was to be there Monday. He at least needed a place to interview people. Barbie, Neal's assistant, had called that morning and told him that a man named Vince Andrews would be stopping by around lunch to be interviewed for the foreman position. If Morgan liked him, then the two of them could get things rolling and hire an office staff. "Hire more than you need, at first," Neal had told him. "It gives you a group to cull the weak ones from and prepares you for the influx of work that, hopefully, comes our way." Neal's motto was prepare for success and you may actually get it. Neal Rutherford was always successful. Morgan now stood inside the moldy smelling building staring at the b

Morgan flew out of the Gulfport-Biloxi International Airport at five that morning. He could have taken a later flight, but he was eager to get to Dustin for their overnight visit. He wasn't sure when he'd be able to see his son again and wanted as much time with him as possible. Morgan's back ached from being on the plane for over three and a half hours. He would have slept if he could, but a single mother of three had taken the same flight and little children don't do well on planes, at least not the ones on which he was a passenger. Of course, he didn't do well on planes either. He much preferred his truck and a road trip as opposed to being cooped up with a bunch of strangers who wanted to be nice and make small talk. He hated small talk. The only plus side to a plane trip was the female passengers, if he was able to get near one, that is. This trip, luck had been against him and he had to sit next to an obese man who didn't believe in deodorant. Or soap. At 9:30, the cab dropped

Jeannie had agreed to meet him at the park. It was always somewhere other than the house. Never the house. Since the divorce, he had never crossed the threshold of what was now his ex-wife's home. He doubted it had changed much, since it was the same house they lived in while married. Still, it was sad that he was no longer welcome in a house for which he was technically still paying. He just shook his head as he stepped out of his truck and into the April sunshine. No sense in drudging up my financial loss and her gain.The day was bright with a slight breeze keeping the sun from being unbearable. Winter never lasted long in Florida if it even showed up. April was back into the high seventies and low eighties, a perfect day for the park. Children were taking full advantage of the Saturday as they swung from jungle gyms and screamed down slides. Parents, mostly moms, sat on benches or stood at the edge of the playground, keeping an eye on their children, while chatting amongst themselv

"What are you working on now?" Jacqui's father sat in the recliner, staring at a newspaper that she doubted he even read. Still, he had held one every morning since she was old enough to remember. It was always the morning paper and a cup of coffee with her mother, the two of them so busy talking that neither would ever read the paper and the coffee always grew cold before it was sipped. Yet, they did it every morning—right up until the cancer claimed her mother's life four years ago.Her father had finally come out of his room after lunch, acting as if nothing had happened, grabbed the paper and slid himself out of his wheelchair and into the recliner. He didn't mention the earlier incident, only asked for a cup of coffee as he flicked the paper open. She had only rolled her eyes as she got out of her comfy spot to get him his coffee. It was better than listening to him grumble again.Jacqui glanced up from the stack of files she had been thumbing through. "The final notes for the com