Clearly, she didn’t catch it. She twirled a finger in the ends of my hair and gave a gentle tug. “You need to ease up, Lace. You’re wound so damn tight.”
I furrowed my brow at her. “Um, rude. Didn’t your parents teach you any manners?”
Something passed across her face, a shadow, so quickly I almost missed it, and she waved me off with a hand as the bartender set our wine in front of us. “Relax. I didn’t mean it like that.” She held her glass toward me.
“How did you mean it, then?” I asked, forcing myself to take a breath and not overreact in the middle of a bar. Even if I thought it was warranted. I touched my glass to hers. We both sipped.
“It’s just that you work so hard for so long. I’m afraid you’re not getting enough…recreation time. That’s all.”
The concern in her voice seemed genuine to me. “It’s like this every spring. I don’t work like this all year long, you know. But I’m an accountant. It’s tax time.”
“No, I get that. I just…” Alicia let her words trail off, and I got the impression she wanted to say more but thought better of it. “I worry. A little. And I thought you could use a break. I didn’t mean to stomp in like a bull in a china shop.” She sipped her wine and caught my eye, a glint in hers. “Though it was totally worth it to see you going all So You Think You Can Dance.”
“Shut up,” I said, and we both laughed even as I felt my cheeks heat up. “And thank you for worrying about me, warranted or not.” I paused before saying quietly, “It’s nice.”
“I’m often guilty of putting my job before everything else in life,” Alicia said, her voice so quiet I had to lean close to hear. “So I tend to step in when I see somebody I care about doing it. You’ve got to be present. Live in—”
“The moment,” I interrupted, with a smile prompted by her admission of caring about me. “So you’ve said.”
“Words to live by.” She shrugged, then sipped. After a beat, she said, “How was your dinner the other night?”
The mention of Saturday tossed me a quick flash of Amy. She’d texted me on Sunday and I’d responded, keeping things friendly. She’d been nice. I liked her. “Delicious. I’d never been there before. Had you?”
Alicia nodded. “A few times. I take clients there a lot. It’s classy, quiet enough to carry on a conversation, but not so quiet that it feels too romantic, you know?”
I did. “Were you there alone?” It was the closest I could get to asking if she’d had a date without actually asking if she’d had a date. Which was none of my business.
“I was definitely doing some wooing, but not a date. A potential client.”
“And?”
She inhaled a big breath and let it out. “Not sure. I think he’s still wavering.”
I bobbed my head up and down once. “I’ve never really had to woo a client. That’s got to be hard.”
Alicia tipped her head one way, then the other. “It can be. Depends on the client and what they’re expecting.” She sipped her wine as she seemed to search for the best way to explain herself. “If they’re just looking for the best marketing strategy or logo design, I can win them easily. I’m excellent at what I do, and so is my entire staff.” The way she said it wasn’t at all egotistical, but simply confident and sure. “But if they’re looking to pit my price quote against a bunch of other firms because they’re only interested in the cheapest one, I don’t always win that.”
“You like your job?”
“I love it.”
“Tell me why.” I really wanted to know. Leaving my office hadn’t been on my schedule. But now that we were here, just the two of us, I realized it was a great opportunity to learn as much as I could about this woman who’d kissed me unexpectedly in a hallway and hadn’t mentioned it since.
Alicia seemed to take a moment to think, and when she turned to look at me, her eyes held that spark I’d seen the first time I met her. Excitement. Anticipation. Energy. “It’s the creativity. The brainstorming. I love that part the best, the discovery of the right path for any given company. When a client comes to me and tells me what he or she hopes to accomplish with a new marketing strategy, and then I and my staff throw dozens of things at the wall to see what sticks, and we find that awesome idea that does stick, it’s…” She’d been talking with her hands, waving them around animatedly as she gazed off at the air. Her focus came back and those eyes grabbed mine. “It’s the best feeling in the world. It’s exhilarating. The sense of accomplishment, of certainty. It’s like a rush. A high. I live for it.”
“Wow,” I said, with a big grin. Listening to her explain her love for her job was like watching a film. A film I wanted to play again and again.
“Another round for you ladies?” The bartender popped the little bubble of intimacy we’d been sharing.
Alicia looked at me and raised her eyebrows in expectation.
What the hell. I was already there. “Sure. One more,” I said, and the smile that split across Alicia’s face told me I’d made the right decision. I pointed at her anyway and joked, “You are a very bad influence.”
“I will take that as a compliment,” Alicia said, with an incline of her head. The bartender refilled our glasses and laughed as well, like he desperately wanted to be a part of our fun. I still prickled at the way his gaze lingered on Alicia, but hey, she was with me, not him, which puffed my chest a bit. Not to mention, I couldn’t blame him. Another customer summoned him, and once he was gone, those blue eyes snagged my brown ones and held them. “What about you? Do you like your job?” She sipped her wine, set the glass down, then propped an elbow on the bar and her chin in her hand, projecting the epitome of I am interested in every word you have to say. It gave me a little flutter in my gut.
“I do,” I said. “Very much.”
Alicia waved her hand in a rolling motion, telling me to elaborate.
“I’ve always loved numbers,” I said. “Ever since I was a little kid in elementary school. Numbers were comfortable to me. They never lie. They’re always definitive, not subjective. I did fine in school, but with something like an essay, your grade really depends on the teacher and how they view what you write. With math and numbers? There’s no room for opinion.”
“You like to be right,” Alicia said, tilting her glass in my direction.
“Who doesn’t?”
“Good point.”
“I used to sit in my father’s lap and watch him do returns. He didn’t have a computer at first, so he did everything with an adding machine. He was so fast!”
Alicia’s grin was soft. “I can see little tiny Lacey sitting in his lap, her pigtails tied with ribbons, trying to take in all the numbers flying by.”
“That’s actually pretty accurate,” I admitted, with a chuckle.
“Did you always know you were going to take over your dad’s business?”
“I don’t know that I’d say I always knew, but I did know I’d work with numbers in some way, whether it was for a big company or a small one. Owning my own, even my father’s, didn’t really occur to me until after college.”
“How come?”
I thought about it for a beat as I sipped my wine. “Because when you’re young, you don’t really think about your parents getting older and retiring. You know? I think I just assumed my dad would always run his business and that I’d help him during tax season but do something else the rest of the year. It wasn’t until he asked me how I felt about working for him full-time that I started to look down the road and see the possibilities.”
“How did it feel the very first day you owned the place and were there without him? Like, when you realized you were the sole proprietor?”
It was so weird to have her ask me that, as I actually had that exact day etched in my brain. “I was a walking dichotomy that first day. I was filled with opposing feelings. I was ecstatic and terrified. I was happy and sad. I was anxious, but relieved. It took several months for all of those feelings to ease up and let me just…settle in.”
I chuckled. “He did for a while, but I think it got to be hard on both of us. He wanted to tell me what to do and how to do it, and I wanted him to leave me alone and let me make changes and do things my way. It got a little testy a couple of times, but my mom finally stepped in.”
“You’re close with your parents,” Alicia said and it wasn’t a question. It was a statement, and I couldn’t quite gauge the emotion that zipped across her face.
“I’m closer with my mom. My dad is tight with my brother, whom you know. Which is weird, because I’m the one who followed in Dad’s footsteps.” I shrugged, then sipped my wine, not wanting to get on the subject of Scott but knowing I opened the door.
Alicia waltzed right through. “Scott. He’s going to be a good client for me, I can tell.”
“Well, good.”
As if sensing my trepidation around him, she observed, “He’s a little bit full of himself.”
A laugh burst out of me before I could catch it. “You think?”
Alicia joined me. “Seriously. The boy thinks he’s God’s gift.”
“He always has. Try growing up with that. And with a father who kind of agrees.”
Alicia shook her head and said quietly, “Fathers and their sons.”
“I told him we kissed.” I blurted it out before I lost my nerve. I thought she deserved to know.
“Oh, I know. He mentioned it.” Alicia hid her grin behind the rim of her glass as she arched one red eyebrow.
“What?” I was stunned. “He did?”
My tone must have been amusing or something because a little laugh escaped Alicia. Then she leaned in close to me and whispered, “I don’t think he believed you.”
I scoffed. “Well, that figures.”
“I was actually a little bit insulted for you. So I set him straight—so to speak.” Her face radiated mischief, and I found myself wishing I’d had a friend like Alicia during high school when I was known as a quiet, nerdy math geek who couldn’t possibly be related to that gorgeous, football-playing, perfect specimen of a man she claims is her brother.
I cocked my head a bit and squinted at her. “How?”
“I gave him details.”
I blinked at her, which she must have found hilarious, because she almost choked on her sip of wine as she laughed. “I’m kidding. But I did tell him it was true. He was hitting on me—attempting to prove his point about you lying, I guess—and I just told him the truth: that I don’t play on his team, and in addition, I happen to find his sister wildly attractive.”
I stared at her, unable to make words for some reason, and she smiled as she laid a warm hand over mine.
“Don’t worry. I was gentle with him.” That twinkle of mischief came back as she lowered her voice and said, “I don’t want to lose his business.”
I couldn’t help but grin at that. “Understandably. His company is big.”
Alicia nodded and finished off her wine.
I followed suit, then glanced at my watch and did my best not to look horrified. I was unsuccessful.
“Okay, I recognize that look—I’ve kept you long enough.” Alicia stood and slipped her arm into her jacket. “Let’s get you back to your office before you turn into a pumpkin. Or turn me into a pillar of salt.” She paid the bill, brushing me off when I offered to contribute. “Nope. My treat. You get it the next time.”
I tried to stifle the idiotic grin that came with the idea of there being a next time. Again: unsuccessful.
Back in the office, I hung up my jacket and looked at the work on my desk, a silent groan sounding in my head.
I shouldn’t have let her talk me into leaving.
There’s so much work to do.
I should’ve fought her harder, damn it.
Those thoughts only made me roll my eyes. I took a seat and Alicia came in carrying a very sleepy Leo.
“He was out cold on Gisele’s lap,” she said, scratching him under his chin where he loved it. He yawned and swiped at her cheek with his tongue. Alicia crossed the office and set him in his bed where he turned in a circle three times and settled in. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Alicia?” I said, as she was headed toward the door. She turned to look at me, and I couldn’t help the flood of arousal that washed through me as I looked at her. The sudden desire I had to stand up, walk across the room, and kiss her like there was no tomorrow was almost too much to fight off, but I managed. Because I knew if I started, I wouldn’t stop. Instead, I shot her a quirky half grin. “Thanks for pulling me out of here.”
Her smiled widened. “Thanks for letting me pull you out of here.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She pointed a finger at me. “Don’t work too late.”
I saluted her and she was gone. Strangely, it felt like she’d taken all the color with her. The rest of my night felt bland, like a washed-out, black-and-white photograph.
Chapter Ten
I didn’t see Alicia at all on Tuesday, which meant I was in the office working until all hours that night. Maybe that’s why I woke up Wednesday morning with a screaming headache that felt like somebody running a jackhammer into the sides of my skull. The weather was gray and rainy—typical for spring but completely unhelpful for trying to allay a pounding head.
I’d only managed about three and a half hours of sleep the night before. I find when I work late, there’s a point on the clock—usually around midnight—that, when surpassed, allows my second wind to breeze in. I become awake, wired, and weirdly energetic. Getting to sleep takes a good, long time. I remembered seeing the clock at some time around 3:45 a.m. before I finally nodded off. My alarm woke me back up at 6:30, and I hit the snooze, rather viciously, four times—a very rare occurrence for me.
A super-large cup of coffee and a handful of Motrin got me into my car and headed to the office. Even Leo was low-key, and I wondered if he was as tired as I was. Did dogs get headaches? I was pondering that question when Nascar Kyle missed T-boning me by mere inches, his brakes squealing loud enough to make me squeeze my eyes shut in pain. I looked to my right, out the passenger-side window, and he smiled, shrugged as if to say, “oops, my bad!” and gave me a wave.
If I hadn’t been buckled into my seat, I’d have gone for the little bastard. That had been too damn close.
I noticed the absence of the baby blue BMW right away but tried not to dwell. There was still another car in my spot. A little Hyundai sports car of some kind, and I absently wondered if it was Brandon’s. He seemed like a guy who needed to compensate for some weakness by driving a hot car. Didn’t matter. Nobody could compare in hotness to Alicia in her Beemer, Ray-Bans on, top down, wind gently ruffling that auburn hair…
I shook my head (a mistake which brought a groan with it). No time for fantasy. Plus, it had occurred to me last night, as I sat at my desk zoning out, that since our hallway kiss, there’d been nothing more. On the one hand, Alicia did say in the bar that she found me…what was it? Oh yes, wildly attractive. On the other hand, she’d made no moves at all to act on that observation for…it had been a couple weeks now, hadn’t it?
I wondered, on my way up the stairs, why I hadn’t made a move on her. Maybe that’s what she was waiting for. I hadn’t really thought about that, as doing so lay just outside my comfort zone…
“Good morning,” Mary said to Leo and me as we entered. She had a slice of breakfast pizza in her hand and the smell threatened to make me throw up all the coffee in my stomach at the moment. “Alicia brought over some breakfast before she left for a meeting.” Mary bestowed a smile that basically said, that woman is a goddess; we should keep her. “She put a slice on your desk for you.”
My stomach roiled a bit, and I could do nothing other than nod and head in, losing Leo to Mary and her food.
Sure enough, a paper plate sat on my desk with a large slice of breakfast pizza on it. Scrambled eggs, diced ham, crumbled b
acon, melted cheese… I swallowed down a little bile that had crept up my throat, picked up the plate, and took it all the way out to Mary.
“I can’t,” I said simply. “I don’t feel well this morning.” I left before she could ask questions, then closed the door between us, leaving it slightly ajar in case Leo wanted in. It was only when I sat down at my desk that I noticed the note that must have been under the plate.
Most important meal of the day. How do you expect to crunch those numbers with no fuel in your body? Didn’t you take health class in school? Eat!
Below the words were two primitive stick figures. One was seated at a desk wearing a big smile, various numbers flying above her. The other had X’s for eyes and a squiggly mouth that made it look ill. A small arrow pointed at the first one and labeled it You and numbers. The second was labeled Me and numbers. I grinned widely, forgetting my throbbing head for a few seconds.
But only a few seconds. The pounding returned and I glanced at my watch to see how much longer I had to wait before I could take another pile of ibuprofen.
Too long.
With a heavy sigh, I sat down and got to work.
I managed to live through two client meetings and file more than a dozen returns by early afternoon, but my headache had barely eased. As I was slamming another handful of Motrin, downing it with nauseatingly cold coffee, a quick rap sounded on my door and Scott peeked his head in.
So much for getting rid of my headache.
“Hey there, Lace-Face. How’s it going?” He looked immaculate in a tan suit with a white shirt underneath and a navy blue tie. He sauntered in and took a seat across from me, uninvited and in no hurry.
“It’s going fine,” I said, but avoided any detail.
“You look like hell,” he observed, tilting his head as he studied me.
“I feel like hell.”
He chuckled. “You’re exhausted, huh?”
“Is it April?” I made a show of glancing at the old-fashioned calendar on the wall behind me, the one with puppies and kittens that made me feel warm and fuzzy when I needed to. “Oh, it is. Then yes, I’m tired.”
Right Here, Right Now Page 12