by Tamie Dearen
“Which means?” Finn’s heart stopped beating. He had to ask, though he was afraid of the answer.
“It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.” Jarrett pushed his hand through his short dark hair. “But if the cancer ever came back, the lungs are the most common place.”
“So maybe it’s nothing?”
“Right. Maybe it’s nothing. But I need to get it checked.” His face twisted, and Finn read the worry in his eyes. The osteosarcoma that took his leg as a twelve-year-old wasn’t to be trifled with. He could’ve lost his life.
“You have to go.” Finn tried to sound buoyant. “It’s probably nothing, but you can’t take any chances.”
Jarrett’s throat convulsed as he swallowed. “I don’t dare waste any time. I have to get to my oncologist right away.”
Finn nodded as the lump in his throat fell into his gut. “Of course. Go. We’ll take care of things here. Have you told Branson and Cole?”
“Yes, they both know. The problem is the LA Fundraiser. I’d ask Cole to do it, but he’s going to have his hands full with the fiscal-year report, at least for the next two weeks. Will you take it over?”
And be stuck working with Laurie? The blood drained from his face.
“Why not Branson?”
“Bran doesn’t know my donors in LA.”
“I don’t know all of them, either.”
“But you know most of them.” As Jarrett flattened his hand across his chest, his jaw muscles flexed. “I’ve already done most of the groundwork. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble.”
As his friend’s eyes squeezed shut, a band tightened around Finn’s chest. He couldn’t worry about himself when Jarrett’s life was at risk.
“Of course, I’ll do it. Just go, and don’t worry about anything.”
Jarrett stood and took a few steps toward the door, his limp somehow more apparent, as if he’d lost confidence. He stopped, spearing Finn with the intensity of his gaze. “Listen, I really appreciate this. I know it means you’ll have to spend time with Laurie, but I could be back in a few days.”
“I bet you will be. If not, Cole can take over when the fiscal report is done.”
Finn walked toward Jarrett, who backed away with his hand up. “You’d better keep your distance. If this is some kind of respiratory infection, it could kill you.”
The tremble in Jarrett’s voice testified to his genuine fear. Ignoring his protest, Finn moved to embrace his friend, hoping this scare would be a false alarm like the one from three years prior. With an encouraging clap on the back, he said, “Some things are worth the risk.”
Laurie tried not to panic when Jarrett gave her the news. He was so sweet about it, she couldn’t even be angry. He’d said something vague about a “medical issue” and needing to “run a few tests.” But even with his swarthy Latino complexion, he looked pale, and Laurie could tell it was a serious matter.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m sure I can figure things out,” she told him. But inside she was screaming, Please don’t leave me! I’m going to screw everything up!
“Dara was fantastic, and she left meticulous notes on everything she did.” Jarrett clicked on a folder labeled LA Fundraiser on Laurie’s computer screen. “If you read through this file about last year’s event, you can practically train yourself. See? Here’s all the vendor contacts. You can find the reservations she made, but of course they’ll have to be confirmed. And someone always cancels at the last minute, but Dara has a backup vendor list, too. Everything’s summarized on this Excel spreadsheet.”
“Next, you’ll tell me she walked on water.” Laurie wondered about her job stability if they’d fired this perfect employee.
“No, but she did heal a few lepers,” he answered with what she was beginning to recognize as a dry sense of humor.
“What happened to her?”
“She left to have a baby.” His hand moved to rest on his chest, and his lips pressed together in a tight white line.
Her instinct was to ask if he was okay, to see if she could do anything to help. But he’d been so cryptic about his medical problem she could tell he valued his privacy.
He coughed, using his elbow as a barrier. “Dara has juvenile diabetes—was actually a student at one of the Limitless camps when she was a teenager. She had a difficult pregnancy and got put on bed rest two weeks ago. That’s why we had to hire someone at the last minute and don’t have anyone to train you.”
Jarrett took a long drink from his water bottle
“What happens when she comes back?” Laurie probed.
“Don’t worry. You won’t lose your job. Dara wants a position where she isn’t flying around the country all the time.”
“Flying all the time?” Laurie’s heart began to pound in her chest. They’re not getting me into one of those air-death machines.
“We have events all over the country.” His eyebrows lifted. “Didn’t you see it in the job description?”
She gulped air. How had she missed that? “I… uhm… I intend to implement some cost-saving measures. I may be traveling by train and rental car.”
“Saving money is good—more goes to the kids.” Jarrett shrugged. “LA may be too far away for ground travel, but I’ll let you figure that out with Finn.”
“Finn?” Her mouth went Sahara-dry.
“He’ll be handling my part of the LA fundraiser, at least until Cole and Branson finish the shareholder’s report for Phantom.” His dark eyes pinned her in place, eyebrows furrowing. “Is that going to be a problem? You’re not getting sick, are you? I know you were worried you’d been exposed to something.”
“No. I’m fine.” She croaked the words Jarrett needed to hear. Whatever he was dealing with was more important than her hang-ups with Finn.
“Good,” Jarrett said, as he snatched his vibrating phone from his pocket. He frowned at the screen. “Excuse me, I need to take this.” With long strides, he exited the room, his cell phone to his ear. “This is Jarrett Alverez… yes… I’m flying back tonight… CT scan… right…”
Laurie watched his retreating figure as acid swirled in her stomach. After seeing Finn during her workout that morning, any interaction would be doubly awkward. “I can handle it. I just need to go home tonight and psych myself up.”
Her computer dinged as a message flashed onto her screen.
Finn Anderson: As we will need to interact during Jarrett’s absence, we should meet to work out a few details. Are you available during lunch?
She rubbed her temples in a fruitless effort to stop her head from pounding. “This day needs a reboot button.”
Laurie could hear a baby crying in the background when Stephanie answered the phone.
“Hey. I can’t talk long,” Steph said. “How’s your first day going?”
“I’d rate it somewhere between stubbing the same toe twice and a bad stomach virus.”
“It can’t be that bad. What happened?” The baby’s cry turned into a soft coo, with a few gurgles.
For some reason, Laurie had never told Steph about her problems with Finn, so she decided to leave his part out of the rundown.
“For starters, I went to the gym this morning and discovered my heart is about as healthy as a Twinkie.”
Steph chuckled. “I’m in the same boat. But at least you went to the gym. You’re doing better than I am.”
“Then, just as I was trying to get oriented, Jarrett comes in and announces he’s leaving New York to take care of some medical issues.”
“Oh, no! He didn’t say what was wrong?”
“No, and I didn’t ask him. But that’s not the worst.”
“There’s more?”
“They expect me to fly… in an airplane.”
“That’s better than flapping your arms,” Steph said sarcastically.
“You know I’m afraid to fly. Somehow, I missed it on the job description. It’s too late to tell them I have a phobia about flying. I should’ve told them that before they hired me.”
&n
bsp; “I bet you’ll get used to it after a few trips. It’ll be even better when you’re on a private jet. You can get up and move around.”
“You don’t understand. I’m not just a little nervous. I can’t fly. I tried. I even bought a ticket and checked my luggage in once. But when the time came to board the plane, I hid in the bathroom, hyperventilating, until it was long gone.”
“Hang on a second. Let me put you on speaker, so I can change a diaper.” After a few seconds, Steph’s voice returned. “Listen… we’ll figure something out. Maybe therapy. Or hypnosis. Or you could take a sedative.”
“I don’t think so. I’m lightheaded just thinking about it.”
“Then you’ll have to travel some other way.” Suddenly, Steph yelped, and a baby’s giggles filtered through the phone.
“What happened?” Laurie asked.
“I didn’t get the new diaper on fast enough. Ford just peed everywhere. And he thinks it’s really funny. Sorry. Gotta go. Call me later.”
Laurie disconnected, thinking she’d rather clean up gallons of baby urine than fly on a plane.
Her phone dinged to remind her about her lunch meeting. She pushed away from her desk and forced her body into a standing position. With her head swirling and heart thumping, she walked toward the door, moving like a zombie in a B-rated movie.
I think I’d rather die on an airplane than face Finn Anderson.
“I don’t really have time for lunch, today.” Cole’s eyes remained glued to the computer screen, as his fingers flew across the keys. “I was planning to order food and keep working. With Jarrett gone, I’ve got even more to do. Right now, I’m trying to figure out how Research and Development blew through two million dollars without completing a single project. I swear, heads are going to roll on this one.”
“But, Laurie’s going to be there.” Finn had been counting on Cole’s presence at the meeting to diffuse their toxic interaction.
“That’s great,” Cole mumbled, scribbling with a pencil on a yellow legal pad.
“Lunch would probably go a lot smoother if you were there.”
“You guys need to get over yourselves so you can work together,” Cole said, absently, pausing to frown at something he’d scribbled.
“I think it’s too late. I’ve already made her hate me.”
“You made your proverbial bed. Now you can lie in it.” Cole’s gaze traced back and forth on his computer screen, his eyebrows twisting in a knot. “Put on your big-boy pants and fix the mess you made. You don’t need my help.”
Realizing Cole was truly turning him down, Finn went into panic mode. He never would’ve proposed a lunch meeting if he’d known he’d be on his own with her.
“I thought you’d enjoy having lunch with Laurie. Don’t you like her?”
“Yeah… she’s awesome.” Cole tapped the pencil against the desk. “But we already had dinner together. I don’t do repeats.”
“You mean you never take a girl out more than once?”
“That’s right,” he mumbled, as he dropped the pencil and started typing on the keyboard.
“How will you ever have a serious relationship if you don’t have more than one date with a girl?”
“Asks the man who doesn’t date at all…” Cole finally looked up from his work, only to roll his eyes in exaggerated fashion before returning to the Excel spreadsheet on his computer screen.
An image of Cole invaded Finn’s head—that of a lonely old man with no family to care for him. “Listen, Cole. You need to open yourself up. You can’t cut off every woman on earth just because your mother—”
“Don’t. Even. Go. There.”
The glare that met Finn’s eyes made him swallow the rest of his sentence. But he wasn’t ready to give up. He resolved to find a way to broach the subject again when Cole was in a better frame of mind.
Finn cleared his throat. “Eh-hem. I guess this means you aren’t going to lunch with me.”
“Y-e-p.” Like a true Texan, Cole stretched the word into several syllables. And with that one word, he effectively slammed the lid on Finn’s coffin.
The spicy aroma of oregano and garlic assaulted Laurie’s nose. Though she’d been starving before, she’d totally lost her appetite in the presence of Finn Anderson. Now the pungent smell of Italian food was nauseating. She’d been ready to argue and fight and stand up for women all over the globe, but Finn had done something that caught her completely off guard… He’d been nice.
This was a completely different Finn Anderson—polite, respectful, encouraging—and she had no idea how to deal with him. Groping for the anger she needed to clear her head, she glanced up at him.
Big mistake.
Those piercing blue eyes. That strong jaw, covered with stubble that begged to be touched. His stern, but full lips.
What would it feel like to kiss those lips?
She reprimanded herself. Why would she even dream about kissing a man like Finn? He was a Neanderthal, for starters, and he’d demonstrated repeatedly how much he disliked her. She knew from experience what it was like when a relationship was based solely on physical attraction. It was something she had no desire to repeat.
“Yes, Mr. Anderson,” she responded to something he said, pushing her uneaten lettuce around on her salad plate. As she studied a piece of cucumber, she wished she’d recorded the entire meeting to play back at a later time when she wasn’t so distracted.
“You can call me Finn.”
“I prefer Mr. Anderson,” she said tersely.
He jammed a large piece of meat into his mouth and chewed, his eyes narrowing. “Ms. Fields, I believe I’ve been nothing but courteous today, yet you remain sullen.”
A bit of her frustration leaked out. “I’m not sullen, Mr. Anderson—I’m confused. You haven’t hurled a single insult toward the female race since we got here. I’m waiting for the real you to jump out from under a nearby table and yell, ‘Boo!’”
“Hmm…” He nodded his head, patting his lips with his napkin, his expression grim. “But that’s where you’re wrong. You see, the real me would never get down on this nasty floor. I would hide somewhere much cleaner.”
“So I should be keeping my eye on that potted fern?” Laurie jerked her chin to her left as she tried to keep the corners of her lips from curling upwards.
He squinted at the huge plant. “For sure. I expect, any second, Finn’s face will appear between the fronds.”
She coughed to stifle a chuckle. “Since right now I have you, instead of Finn, perhaps I could list a few pointers about not being a chauvinistic pig. You could share with him later.”
“Plenty of women have tried to tell me how I ought to behave, but none have succeeded.”
“Are you saying you only listen to advice from men?” Rising to the occasion, Laurie’s once-skittish nerves now hummed from the challenge. She forked a cucumber and chewed with vigor.
“Branson would tell you I simply don’t listen to advice from anyone.”
“Sounds about right.” Now ravenous, she broke off a piece of bread and dipped it in ground garlic and olive oil, savoring the flavor. “That almost sounds like the old Finn Anderson.”
“Sorry about that,” he said, without an ounce of remorse.
Laurie speared a cherry tomato and pointed it at him. “At least with the real you, I know what to expect. I think it’s easier than having you switch back and forth.”
“I hardly feel sorry for you, Ms. Fields. You give as well as you take.”
Her pride swelled. Though he might despise her in other ways, at least he respected her ability to fight back.
“I can usually hold my own.”
A single eyebrow arched, throwing down the gauntlet. “A decent effort… pretty good, for a woman.”
“How Neanderthal of you. Welcome back, Mr. Anderson.”
“Would you feel more comfortable if I said I had hoped we would hire a man for your position?” He grinned, his eyes twinkling, like deep, sparkling wa
ter.
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Her lip twitched, but she forced it back to a straight line.
“What if I said the main reason we hired you was to fulfill our quota for minority and female employees?”
“I’d believe that of you, but not the other three.”
His nostrils flared and his grin vanished. For a brief instant, she thought she saw a hurt expression on his face, but then it was gone. He put down his fork and pushed his plate forward, folding his hands on the table.
“Ms. Fields, I don’t like this situation any more than you. We have a job to do, and I’m trying to make you happy. That seems to be a difficult task.”
“Mr. Anderson, you’re wrong about me. It doesn’t take anything special to make me happy. All I need is to be treated the same as any of your male employees.”
His mouth stretched into a lazy smile, his smoldering eyes half-lidded. “I’d enjoy that very much. We could continue this conversation in the men’s steam room after lunch, without the encumbrance of…”
As his voice trailed off, his gaze left her eyes and dropped down, perusing her form like he could see through the table between them. She felt heat rising in her cheeks as she resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest. She swallowed hard, trying not to picture him sitting in a steam room, with only a white towel tucked around his hips.
His seductive eyes perused their way back to lock with hers. His next word was barely above a whisper. “Hunger.”
“Hunger?” Her question came out as a squeak.
“Yes. Hunger.” His gaze dropped, and he pulled his plate back to cut another piece of steak, continuing in a casual voice. “Without the encumbrance of hunger. I think better with a full stomach.”
The spell broken, Laurie discovered her hands were clenched around the wadded-up napkin in her lap. She glared at him. “I know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?” His eyes widened as he took another bite of steak.
“You’re trying to make me quit.”
His face blanched. “No, don’t quit!” he said around a full mouth, waving his hand as he chewed and swallowed. He prattled on in a panic. “Please don’t quit. I don’t know why I say these things. I don’t work with women. At least, not attractive ones.”