Читать книгу Talk This Way - Dakota Cassidy - Страница 8

Chapter Three

Turned out, it hadn’t been the worst thing to happen to her in broad daylight—not by a long shot. But plum crazy? Yes, sir.

Landon had indeed offered her what he called help. He’d done it with flourish, lots of arcing hand gestures and that ever-present amused twinkle in his eyes.

As Cat made her way toward his home, the towering glass-and-chrome building where Landon had invited her to a home-cooked meal by Sanjeev, passing expensive shops and cars worth more than she’d make in a lifetime of work, she felt around the inside of her purse to be sure the can of pepper spray was where she could find it.

After the tale Landon had told her, she was more than a little skeptical. No. She was downright incredulous, leading her to wonder what she really knew about the real-world Landon Wells anyway. Where did all his money come from?

She’d read all about the internet businesses he’d created, seen the occasional gossip article linking him with a prince in some far-off country. He’d certainly had his fair share of wild adventures.

So was he just eclectic-crazy, or crazy-crazy?

Please don’t let him be a serial killer. Not after he’s been so nice. Her day had already been ugly enough.

As a precaution, one she felt sick with guilt about even considering, she’d made sure her pepper spray was in her purse before leaving her place. There’d be no drugging an unsuspecting Cat Butler and stuffing her body parts into a black garbage bag and dumping her body at the local Winn-Dixie, thank you very much. That wouldn’t pay her mother’s hospital bills.

Yet, how could she possibly stay away after what he’d proposed to her? It was outrageous. She’d done nothing but think about it all afternoon long.

All while she’d dug out a dress for the dinner and taken a long, hot soak in the antiquated tub in her studio apartment. And while she’d blow-dried her hair and applied her makeup.

Now, as she gave the doorman her name, her legs trembled and her heart beat painfully hard.

The spry gentleman, dressed in an immaculate black suit with brass cuff links at his wrists and a gray tie, swept his arm toward the elevators. “This way, Miss Butler. Mr. Wells has a private entry elevator to his penthouse.”

The buzz of her phone made her hold her finger up and dig it out of her purse.

Oakdale calling. Her heart began that heavy thud of dread in her chest, making her send up a silent prayer that Landon wasn’t some crazy rich man who was prepping his prey. She pressed the decline button and stuffed her phone back in her purse.

If this job were for real, she’d be able to make that payment.

“Cat?”

She whirled around, stumbling in her heels. Flynn caught her by the elbow, sending a shot of electricity along her arm and a pool of warmth to her cheeks. Her first instinct was to fire off a warning shot. “Shouldn’t you be off looking for someone else to get fired? Or are your plans more laid-back tonight? Maybe just an employee write-up or two on the agenda?”

Boo, Cat. That’s totally unfair. It wasn’t his fault he’d been the final straw for Arlo. It was just dumb luck. If it hadn’t been him, it would have been someone else.

After some thought, Cat decided he had every right to look out for his mother’s best interests. He might be narrow-minded about it, but he was doing it out of love.

Cat fully expected him to shoot a poison arrow back. Instead, he grinned, that grin that left her stomach wishy-washy and her pulse erratic. The one with the deep grooves on either side of his sexy mouth and lips she wanted to tug on with her teeth. “Still mad?”

Pulling her purse to her side, she looped her fingers into the strap and admitted defeat. “I’m not mad. It really wasn’t your fault. You were just the catalyst to a long list of complaints Arlo had about me. Forget it ever happened.” She turned to move toward the elevators, but he stuck his body between her and the up button.

Cat bit the inside of her cheek. That chest. Wide. Hard. Lightly tanned. A broad space where a girl could rest her head. Mercy, mercy.

If it were any other day but today, and he didn’t want to see her skewered over a roaring flame for corrupting his mother, she might have flirted with Flynn McGrady—even as stuffy and conservative as he was.

But today wasn’t that day.

Flynn looked down at her, his dark blue eyes melting her from the inside out. “Yeah. About that. I’d like to apologize for goading you. I was out of line. I was hoping maybe we could talk? Are you busy now?”

“I have an...appointment.” A date with crazy. A liaison with lunacy.

“Here?” He didn’t even try to hide his surprise.

She wondered if he was surprised because she was, after all, headed up to a rich man’s penthouse. In a red dress and heels. But it was none of his business why she was here. Let him think what he wanted. “Yes.”

“Maybe when you’re done we could talk? If you have time after, that is.”

Cat cocked her head, her brow furrowing. “I’m a little confused. What do we have to talk about, Mr. McGrady?”

“Flynn. Call me Flynn. I live in the building. Just leased a place here for a few months to be closer to my mother in her recovery. I was hoping we could talk.”

Wait. Flynn lived in this building. Her libido would never survive. “I thought you lived in New York?”

“I did. I do. But my company is internet-based. I can work anywhere. The commute was keeping me from seeing my mother as much as I’d like, so I decided, at least for now, this was the best place for me to be. So are you open to having a cup of coffee with me?”

Was her asking her out? After their spat? Oh, no. She couldn’t get to know Mr. Stuffy. Not with everything she had on her plate right now. She didn’t have time for any distractions. Especially when they looked and smelled like Flynn. He was the kind of man distraction was made for. Sin and scandal. “For...?”