Her mouth dropped. “You can’t fire me.”

“I’m not firing you, I’m telling you the rules. And those shoes have to go, too.”

She stuck out a hip and rested a hand on it. “Will an inspector shut you down for my shoes?”

He wanted to tell her yes, but he’d be lying. “The ground is uneven and there are nails everywhere. Twisting an ankle and contracting tetanus are the most likely by-product of stilettos on the site.”

Katie lifted a leg and examined her own shoe. Her skirt slid farther up her thighs.

Dean groaned.

“I’ve run from half a dozen paparazzi on the cobblestoned streets of Italy in heels like these. I’ll take my chances.”

He thrust the hat in her direction a second time and dismissed the footwear argument. “They’re your feet. The hat isn’t optional.”

After sniffing the air and finding it unsavory, Katie glanced at the top of his head. He read her thought before she managed to voice it.

“Has anyone else worn your hat?”

It had his name on it. No one would consider putting it atop his or her head. “No.”

A slow Southern smile met her lips. Avoiding a forgotten two-by-four, she shortened the space between them and stared at his hat.

This was not a fight he was going to win. He could insist she wear the hat in his hand, but knew he’d end up tossing her over his shoulder and removing her from the site because she wouldn’t wear it. It wasn’t that she was a snob, just particular about what touched her skin.

No matter how the hat ordeal played out, the men on his crew would be talking by the end of the day. Carrying her off the site or letting her wear his hat for the day…those were his options.

He mumbled under his breath and removed his hat before plunking it down on her stubborn head.

She stood a little taller and wore a satisfied smile.

“How do I look?”

Good enough to eat, he thought but didn’t say. The hard hat should have looked ridiculous on her. It didn’t. A completely unwanted sense of pride sparked his ego when he glanced down at his name atop her head. The hat claimed her as his in a completely high school way.

He shook the thoughts from his confused mind and quickly said, “Fine.”

She tilted her head to the side and considered him for a moment before turning back to whatever it was she was looking at when he had first walked in behind her.

“Is this the standard size of all the rooms?” she asked.

“All but the two and three bedroom bungalows that are outside of this building. Those have small kitchens.”

She nodded and crossed the room to her purse and removed a pen. After writing something down, she tapped the pen against her bottom lip. “Is there a penthouse?”

“Not in the traditional sense. Jack wanted individual single dwellings, the bungalows, for patrons with deeper pockets and space needs. There is one suite on the top floor, but it’s only half the size of the largest single standing suite structure. The rest of the top floor is dedicated to dining, a bar, and a teen club hangout.”

“Teen club?”

Dean smiled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Family first. That’s what Jack wants. This is a destination experience. Something for everyone in the family to enjoy.” Unlike any other project Dean had been a part of building, this hotel felt more like building a fantasy. Fancy hotels catered to the rich and adult. There wasn’t a place for the kids to go and be kids.

“How soon before I can get up there and get a feel for the space?”

“Once all the exterior walls are up.”

“How long will that be?”

“A couple of weeks, give or take.”

She jotted down a few more notes and narrowed her eyes. Katie sounded so professional and ready to take on the project, Dean had to remind himself who he was talking to.

“The hotel isn’t anywhere near needing your hand. I’m surprised you flew out as quickly as you did.”

“I’m anxious to get started,” she said before turning her back on him.

“Why?” He’d asked himself why she wanted a job ever since Jack told her that she’d been hired. It wasn’t like she needed money. In fact, she wasn’t getting paid.

She ignored his question and asked one of her own. “How many square feet are the rooms?”

He told her and asked her again, “Why?”

She continued to scribble notes as she spoke. “I know you don’t want me here.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So you do want me here?”

“I didn’t say that. I asked why you want to do this. Why put out all the effort when you could be flying to France or dodging photographers in Italy?”

Blue eyes met his and held. “If I were a man, you wouldn’t ask me why I was doing this. No one asks Jack why he wants to build his own hotels when he has Daddy’s to fall back on.”

“You’d be hard-pressed to pull the women libbers’ card wearing that skirt, darlin’. I’ve never known a female more proud to be a woman in my life.” It was one of the many things he admired about her. She wore womanhood like a thick fur and dared anyone to say a thing about it.

Her eyes softened. “Maybe I’m bored with France.”

Ah, now they were getting somewhere. “People are going to depend upon you here. This isn’t something you can get bored with and move on.”

“Have I ever walked away from my obligations?”