Make-Believe Beau. Keli Gwyn

beside her, his focus on the topmost sheet. Although he wasn’t an engineer, he did have some drafting experience. Hopefully enough to know what he was looking at. Even if he couldn’t follow the math, he could judge the quality of the drawings.

      Flynt leaned back against the table with his arms and ankles crossed, watching the proceedings with interest. He’d learned about Jessie during an unexpected encounter with Bishop. Impressed by the drawings his friend had sent up prior to the interview, Flynt had sung her praises to Corby. He could do no more. Please, Lord, let her overcome Corby’s objections.

      Any designing draftsman would do, but Flynt wanted Jessie. He hadn’t felt so strongly about a potential employee before, but he needed someone with her skills. Plus, Corby’s unfounded prejudice against her grated on Flynt. She deserved the opportunity to prove herself worthy of the position.

      Although her work was exceptional, his desire to hire her was reinforced by his growing respect for the bright woman with a backbone of steel. It had nothing to do with her arresting good looks or her radiant smile. Nothing at all.

      * * *

      Only by tapping into her self-control was Jessie able to resist the urge to increase the distance between her and Mr. Corbin. The man’s overbearing manner rankled. What was worse was the scent of tobacco smoke that clung to him, bringing back memories of her days singing at the High Stakes Saloon.

      No. She wouldn’t think about the past. She had a promising future, provided she secured this position at the El Dorado Water and Deep Gravel Mining Company. When her previous drafting job at a small irrigation company had come to an end, she’d set her sights on getting a more prestigious one. If that meant enduring yet another man’s scrutiny and proving herself capable in his eyes, so be it. She’d done it before, and she could do it again. “Are you finished with this one, sir? I do have three more drawings for you to look at.”

      Mr. Corbin cleared his throat. “I’ll let you know when I’ve seen enough.”

      She caught Flynt’s eye. He winked. At her. Not in a flirtatious manner, but all the same, his encouraging gesture surprised her. She preferred to keep things with her colleagues professional. Never would she let a man guess she was anything but a proper lady.

      Which she was. Although she’d spent two years as a singer in Ace’s establishment, she wasn’t like the other girls. Miss Maggie might have taught her how to flirt, a lesson she’d learned well, but when Ace offered her the position, she’d made him promise that no man would be permitted to lay a hand on her. And none had. Not even Ace.

      “Show me the next one,” Mr. Corbin barked.

      “Certainly, sir.” She flipped to the second of the four drawings.

      With the prickly manager occupied and Flynt, who stood beside him, focused on her work, as well, she was free to cast sidelong glances at the intriguing engineer. What an arresting profile he had, with his broad forehead and chiseled jawline.

      A thick lock of his copper-colored hair had fallen across his forehead. She rarely encountered a red-haired man, although she was partial to the color. Others had teased her about her auburn tresses, but she counted them a blessing. After all, her red hair was what had kept her from going hungry.

      That and her green eyes. Men did like looking into them. Flynt had. If he knew he’d been staring at her, wide-eyed, when he’d first seen her, he would probably cringe. For some reason, knowing he’d been enthralled tickled her.

      While she didn’t set out to use her physical appearance to her advantage, a woman did enjoy appreciative glances. The Lord deserved all the credit as her Creator, but she got to enjoy the admiration His handiwork brought about.

      Jessie’s shoulders were protesting by the time Mr. Corbin completed his examination. She heaved a grateful sigh, put the drawings back in her case and returned to the utilitarian bentwood chair she’d occupied earlier.

      The portly man plopped into his large leather wingback chair, reached for a cigar lying on his desk and passed it under his nose, inhaling audibly. He’d spent the last five minutes doing nothing but grunting every now and then. If he didn’t say something soon, she’d—

      “So, what do you think, Corby?” Flynt, seated beside her once again, leaned forward. “Her work is exceptional, isn’t it?”

      She hadn’t expected Flynt to be so supportive, but he was acting as her advocate. And what had she done? Made a fool of herself, that was what. She’d come right out and accused him of feeling threatened by her, which clearly he wasn’t. At least she’d realized her mistake promptly. In a gentlemanly fashion, he’d accepted her apology and seemed to harbor her no ill will.

      “What do I think?” Mr. Corbin’s question jolted her back to the present. “I’ve seen enough to warrant a trial.” He shifted his focus from Flynt to her. “I’d like you to complete a drawing for us, Miss Sinclair. I want to see what you can do when the pressure’s on.”

      “That’s understandable. I’ll do whatever you’d like.”

      The skeptical manager pinned her with an intense gaze. “I’m willing to let you finish the interview process since Flynt has vouched for you, but I believe having a woman working here could invite trouble. What do you think the men will do when you walk in there?” He inclined his head toward a large drafting room visible through the office’s side window. “They’ll take their eyes off their boards and clap them on you, that’s what.”

      She pasted on her most reassuring smile. “You needn’t concern yourself with that. I’ve had plenty of experience dealing with men’s stares and attitudes.” More than he could possibly imagine. “I can handle myself.”

      “It’s not you I’m worried about. It’s the deadlines we have to meet. The directors want to see progress. I can’t afford any slowdowns.”

      Flynt intervened once again. “You’re right, Corby. Having a woman on the team will change things, but change can bring about improvements.”

      While she appreciated Flynt’s support, the man himself was a puzzle. One minute he addressed her as a business associate, and the next his gaze roved over her with what she could only describe as attraction. Or was it simply admiration? Yes, that must be it.

      Silence hung in the air until Flynt broke it. “My men are likely to work harder to impress Jessie.”

      Corby scoffed. “I reckon the fellows will be more interested in her than they are in their work. Mark my words. They’ll produce fewer drawings because of her. Not more.” He shifted his attention to Jessie. “Why did you become a draftsman—draftswoman, anyhow? It’s not...normal.”

      She’d fielded that question more times than she could count. “Few men are willing to believe a woman desires to do anything other than bear children, fix meals and wash clothes. But we’re capable of more than that, although few of us are given the opportunity. Be that as it may, I have nothing but respect for the women who’ve chosen marriage and motherhood.”

      With her questionable past, she couldn’t aspire to either, no matter how much the idea of being loved and loving someone in return appealed to her. “Because I have neither a husband nor children, I’m forced to provide for myself, just as you are. I have an affinity for arithmetic and have found a profession that utilizes my skills. I happen to enjoy it, too.”

      Mr. Corbin scowled. “You’re not one of those suffragettes, are you?”

      She chose her words carefully. “I don’t stand in protest lines, no, but I am sympathetic to the plight of women. Perhaps one day our voices will be heard. In the meantime, I’m content to do my job to the best of my ability.”

      “Good. It sounds like you know your place.”

      Jessie bit back a sharp retort. Traditionally minded men such as Mr. Corbin couldn’t be won over with mere words. She needed to show him what she could do. “I’m ready to move on to the next stage of the interview, sir.”

      Mr.