Читать книгу Never Naughty Enough - Jill Monroe - Страница 8

“WHY AM I HERE?” Annabelle shouted over the din of the crowd.

“Do you mean philosophically?” Katie teased as she slid two drinks off the makeshift bar and handed one to Annabelle.

“No, you know what I mean.” Annabelle had never really fit into the singles’ party scene, although this one was better than most. Someone’s home always won out over a loud bar. But noise was noise. She smoothed the muscles above her eyebrows, a headache already forming. She should have worn her glasses.

Laughter drifted from the center of the room where two couples stood. Annabelle couldn’t miss the uncomfortable posture and forced smile on the face of one of the women. She did not relish an evening of doing the same. She tried to hand her drink back to Katie. “This is crazy. I hate parties.”

“Which is exactly why you need to be here. You need to get back into the groove. A few years ago, you were the life of the party.”

“Parties are all wrong for me. See that group of guys over there. They have ‘my-dot-com-start-up-went-bust-and-now-I’m-living-with-my-parents written all over them. They’re scouting for a woman to bankroll their next project. Not a soul mate.”

Katie raised an eyebrow. “And are you trying to find a soul mate? No, you’re only trying to have a nice time, maybe have an intelligent conversation with an interesting man.”

For six months, her best friend had been on a mission to give Annabelle a life—starting with the ridiculous toe ring now twisting around her index toe. Annabelle was amazed Katie still managed to gear up any energy for the project, especially after the picnic fiasco this afternoon. Of course, Katie did the easy part. Her best friend was all about suggestions.

As hard as Katie might try to zap her into some semblance of hipness, Annabelle could never match Katie’s innate coolness from her pink gel-spiked hair to her glimmer eye shadow. Glimmer. She’d just gotten used to glitter. And this party was a mistake.

Yes, it was time to leave. “Do you see any coasters?” Annabelle asked.

Katie shrugged, lifting her tank top higher and emphasizing her belly ring. “Just set it anywhere.”

Annabelle shook her head and scanned the room. Some deep-rooted sensibility prevented her from putting a glass on bare wood.

Katie straightened her back and smiled. “Hey, Jeff’s over there. Let’s join him.”

Annabelle glanced over to where Katie was pointing, then quietly groaned. She should have guessed. The group consisted of all men. Parties where her best friend felt an obligation to throw her into every cluster of eligible men were especially tiring. “Oh, not those guys.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

Too many reasons. They didn’t have blue eyes. They didn’t have a scar above their right eye or make every atom in her body jump.

They weren’t Wagner.

Annabelle shook her head. “I just can’t believe I left the office early for this.”

Aline formed between Katie’s eyebrows. “I’ll have you know, leaving at five-thirty is not early for most people. Especially on a Thursday night.”

“What’s the big deal about Thursday?”

Katie rolled her eyes. “Pre-weekend party. You’d think you’d never been to college at all.”

“I still have to go in early tomorrow. We’re working on a big project.” She searched for a coaster to set her drink. “In fact, I had a hard day at the office and I need to get some sleep. Thanks for inviting me, but I’m going to head on home.”

“Mr. Monochrome working you all hours of the day and night?” Katie stomped her foot, sending her ankle bracelet jangling. “How is everything in the— sheesh, what is it he does?”

“Solar cells. And it’s going extremely well. By replacing the silicone conductors currently used in the photovoltaic—”

Katie held up a hand. “Wait, sorry. Forget I asked. I’m not up to a conversation like the ‘how batteries really work’ discussion we had last week. I wasn’t able to get nickel-metal hydride out of my head for several days.”

Annabelle stood taller, ready to defend Wagner. “It won’t be long before his ideas revolutionize the way we power up our laptops and heat our homes. Besides, stop calling him Mr. Monochrome. That look happens to be very stylish and there’s a lot to be said about understatement.”

“Yes, but he wore it before that millionaire show made it popular. And that trend’s long gone.”

Annabelle turned toward the door, drink in hand. “I’m leaving. What kind of place doesn’t have coasters?”

Katie waved her hand. “Forget I said anything about Mr. Color Deficient. You need to think of someone other than him and this party is the place to do it.”

“We’ve been through this before.”

“I know and I’ll shut up. I just want you to stop wasting your time on him and think about meeting someone new. You’ve been working for him, what, four years? Honey, I know it’s hard to hear and it’s hard for me to say, but the guy is never going to notice you. He’s too involved in his company and proving that he’s not his father.”

Annabelle shook her head. “It is not hard for you to say that, because you say it all the time. I’m no longer interested in Wagner Achrom. I’m giving him up, but I’m staying because he pays well. Very well. Don’t forget he gave me a job when I had more bills than prospects. I owe him a lot. So stop giving me lectures.”

“Uh-huh, right.” Katie nodded toward the throng of men again. “Tell you what, we’ll go over there and you say just one sentence and then we’ll leave. No more hard time.”

Katie might be just this side of wild, but she also had an enticing smile. The kind that could convince Annabelle that clandestinely taping an Out of Order sign on the baseball coach’s hat was a good idea, or the kind that cheered her up after Hailey Griffin stole the heart of the cute guy in geometry.

Annabelle lifted an eyebrow. “Promise?”

“Promise. But your sentence can’t be ‘goodbye.’ Besides, we’re here to have a good time. And to celebrate you finally getting your pigskin.”

“That’s lambskin.”

“We’ll worry about that later.” With a wink and a flick of her red hair, pink highlights flashing, Katie looped her arm through Annabelle’s and sashayed through the various clusters of people all trying to have a good time.

“Hi, Katie, who’s your friend?”

That was about as subtle as a high-school sophomore. Annabelle tried to hide her cringe. He obviously didn’t remember, but she’d met Jeff before. His clothes reminded her of the Web sites he designed. All flash, no substance. Katie should know by now she’d never be attracted to that type of guy.

“Hi, Jeff, this is Annabelle.” Katie gave her a delicate push and she nearly stumbled into his shoulder.

He caught her, his hand lingering on her elbow. “Hiya, Annie. What do you do?”

Get irritated when people call me Annie. This guy would wear his ballcap backward. She just knew it. And what happened to the guys who just talked to a woman’s boobs? Jeff checked her out all right, but in a way that suggested he was mentally calculating the cost of her shoes, clothes and jewelry. Annabelle cleared her throat. “I’m an administrative assistant.”

His five-hundred-watt smile dimmed. An assistant probably didn’t fit into his success plan. “Nice to meet you. Mike here was just telling us he’s learning hypnosis.”

Annabelle couldn’t help it—she laughed.

Mike straightened and turned to her. Now, this one did wear his ballcap backward. A sure sign he hadn’t grown up and left his college days behind. “You don’t believe in hypnosis?”

“Nope.” There. She’d said something. Now they could leave.

Katie shook her head. “No subject, no predicate, no leaving,” she whispered.

Unfortunately, from the expectant faces surrounding her, they also expected more conversation.

“You really don’t believe in hypnosis?” Jeff asked.

“Well, I accept the power of suggestion, but as far as going under and changing your personality, I don’t think that could happen.”

Memories of her father’s ugly cons suddenly crushed that last bit of hope that she might actually have a nice time at this party. Her father had been a pro with the hypnosis scam. He’d promised them a cure through hypnosis. Smoking, overeating, nail-biting, whatever. While there were plenty of well-meaning trained professionals in the world who could aid someone with strategic hypnotic suggestion, her father was neither trained nor well-meaning. With his charm and charisma people readily opened their checkbooks. She tamped down the familiar surge of guilt she felt every time she remembered one of her father’s scams.

Jeff laughed. “Great. Then you won’t mind being a volunteer. Mike was just looking for a victim.”

Annabelle whipped her head toward Jeff. “What?”

“I can’t back away from that kind of challenge,” Mike said.

Annabelle reached for a lock of hair and twisted it around her finger. Twisting—a return of a bad habit. Normally, she wore her hair up in a tidy and simple bun, but Katie had insisted Annabelle’s brown locks had to “cascade” down her back. She hated how unruly her curls must appear.

“You ready?” Mike asked, draping an arm around her shoulders.

Her hair issues appeared not to daunt Mike; he had a point to make. After spouting off, she couldn’t very well say no now. It would be fun to prove them wrong. Besides, what could letting him try to put her under hurt? It wouldn’t work and Katie would owe her. Big time. Crossing her arms over her chest, she sighed. “Lead the way.”

She’d learned all the cons, scams and sleights of hand at the knee of a pro—her dad. Mike’s brand of backroom hypnosis didn’t stand a chance.

Mike laughed, then cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey, Heather, can we use your old roommate’s room?”

Annabelle winced as all eyes in the room turned her way.

“No one’s in the back bedroom. We can have a little privacy there,” Mike told her.

Heather raised one arched eyebrow. “What are you going to do back there?”

“Nothing wicked,” he assured. “A challenge. Annabelle here doesn’t think I can put her under hypnosis.”

“Sounds like fun, and seeing Annabelle put under…this I’ve got to see. Come on, Kelli. I can show you the bedroom while we’re in there and you can see if you think it will be big enough for your drafting board.”

Good to know Heather could multitask—throw a coasterless party with ease, aid and abet a delusional male in the name of fun, all while brokering her next potential roommate.

Jeff led the growing group down the narrow hallway. He opened the door and they all filed into the nearly empty bedroom. Only a desk, lamp, chair and bare mattress, angled against the wall, remained.

“Shelley’s going to pick up her desk and lamp tomorrow, but the mattress you can use since she and her fiancé are getting a queen-size bed,” Heather announced.

“Ladies, please. We need to create an ambience.”

Heather laughed. “Whatever. I used to date you, Mike—I know all about your, uh, ambiences.”

Mike closed the door behind the last person, positioned the desk chair in the middle of the room and gestured to Annabelle that she should sit down, which she did. He flipped on the beat-up banker’s lamp. “Hey, someone switch off the overhead lights.”

One of the women giggled when darkness flooded the room. “Why do I feel like we’re in for a session of light as a feather, stiff as a board?” Katie whispered.

“Oh, hey, I remember that game.”

Memories of late nights, bowls of M&M’s and bras in the freezer filled Annabelle’s memory. “That game we used to play at slumber parties? We could never get it to work on me. Just don’t let anyone put my hand in a bowl of warm water.”

Katie laughed.

Mike cleared his throat. “It’ll need to be quiet to pull this off. Okay, Annabelle, you’re getting very sleepy.”

She chuckled. “Oh, please. Can you come up with a line a little more original than that?”

Mike rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. “Just work with me. Close your eyes and clear your mind. Forget about everyone in the room.”

She exhaled sharply, but closed her eyes. The sooner he tried to hypnotize her and failed, the sooner she could go home and sink into a warm mountain of bubbles in her bathtub.

“Go back in your memory. Search it for a time when you were at your most relaxed.”

She opened one eye. “I’m never relaxed.”

“It’s true. I’ve never seen her relaxed,” Katie said.

“Okay, then a favorite memory.” Mike made a hand motion to indicate she needed to close both her eyes.

Favorite memory? Now, that was easy. That would have to be the time when she’d worked late with Wagner and fallen asleep on the soft leather couch in his office. He’d woken her up with the smell of fresh coffee under her nose. She’d opened her eyes and nearly fell into his deep blue ones, so much more alluring without his glasses. His eyes had darted to her mouth.

For one heart-stopping moment, she’d thought he might kiss her.

“Have you got one?” Mike asked, his voice slowly swimming toward her.

It took her a moment to answer. “Yes.” Her voice sounded heavy and slurred. Why was she having so much trouble saying only one word?

“Good. Now keep thinking of that time. Concentrate on the good feelings that memory brings to you. Let everything else fall into the background but those feelings and my voice.”

“Yes. Background. Coffee,” Annabelle repeated. She swayed a bit in her chair. Through the fog of memory, she felt a hand on her shoulder, steadying her.

“Maybe you should stop, Mike.”

Was that Katie’s voice? Weird. She sounded upset. What was she doing in Wagner’s office? The voice faded. Annabelle must have made a mistake. The scent of Wagner’s cologne filled her senses and she felt the delicious sensation of anticipation as his lips almost touched hers. She arched forward, closer to—

“What should we do?” Heather whispered.

“We should give her a suggestion. What does she need? Does she have any bad habits?” Mike asked.

Annabelle fought through a haze of vaporous words and ever-dimming darkness. Who was talking? No one was in the office with them. It must be a client outside the door. Back to Wagner…

“What she needs is to forget about work once in a while. Take a day off.”

“Great. You’ll be spontaneous.” The words, spoken next to her ear, made no sense. She squeezed her shut eyes tighter. Annabelle didn’t want talking, she wanted to return to her beautiful memory. Couch. The smell of coffee.

“You’ll crave marshmallows.” Marshmallows for coffee? Annabelle thought Kelli, Heather’s possible roommate, sure had some weird ideas.

“You’ll be a sex fiend,” someone blurted.

Katie gasped. “Oh, Jeff. Take that one back.”

“What’s the difference? This isn’t working anyway.”

“Yes, it is. Look at her.” Was that Mike?

“Just change it,” Katie told him, her voice growing more and more concerned.

What a weird dream.

“Okay, you’ll be daring, sexually.”

“Let’s give her something she could really use. I know, you’ll enjoy doing sit-ups,” Heather said.

“Your thighs won’t bother you,” Kelli said, her tone wishful.

“You’ll run naked through Bricktown Ballpark.”

Mike cleared his throat, cutting off any objection. “Okay, Annabelle, when I turn on the light, you won’t remember any of this, but the suggestions will remain with you.”

“Oh, come on, Mike. Not fair.” There was Katie’s voice again.

“Okay, okay. I was only joking. I’ll take the suggestions away and leave her only with a nice, rested feeling.”

Light flooded the room. A shock of awareness scorched through her body and she struggled to open her eyes.

A young woman stood in the open doorway, her hand on the light switch. “Oops, sorry, didn’t know you all were in here. What’s going on anyway? A séance?”

“Oh, no,” someone said.

Who was in the room with her? And Wagner? Wait a minute, she wasn’t on a couch. She was sitting in a chair. The scent of Wagner’s coffee had disappeared.

Annabelle blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the bright light. Six faces turned toward her expressing varying shades of alarm. If she hadn’t been self-conscious before, she definitely was now. “Why are you all staring at me like that?”

Katie cleared her throat. “Belle, are you okay?”

Annabelle shrugged. “Sure, fine.”

“What about the…” Her friend’s voice trailed off as she shot a pointed look in Mike’s direction.

With a few odd glances at one another, the rest of the group dispersed quickly from the room. Actually, they almost looked as if they were making a break for it. Mike had lost the carefree expression he’d worn earlier. His eyebrows were raised and his shoulders tense. He appeared borderline anxious.

“Annabelle, don’t you remember?” Tight lines strained Katie’s face. She looked worried. Strange. Annabelle felt great—there was nothing wrong with her.

You’re getting sleepy. Now she remembered why they were all in this room and why everyone was acting so odd. Annabelle suppressed a giggle.

“Oh, the hypnosis thing? Sorry, Mike, it didn’t seem to do anything. Look, I’m a little tired, though, and I’d just like to go home now.”

“You’re sleepy? Great. For a minute there I thought you’d be stuck with all those crazy… never mind.” Mike smiled and quickly exited the room.

Katie sighed what sounded like a breath full of relief. “Whew.”

“Never knew you all would be so thrilled at me being tired,” Annabelle said as she stood and stretched.

Her dearest friend smiled. “It’s nothing. Thanks for coming out with me tonight. I know it’s not your thing. But, Annabelle, please think about what I said earlier.”

“About what?”

“About your boss. You can’t move on, unless you, well, move on. Go home and get some sleep.”

“Oh, I’m not tired. I actually feel really rested. I was just saying that to get rid of Mike and all his weird hypnosis stuff.”

The color behind Katie’s glimmer makeup faded. She opened and closed her mouth, tapping her foot. “Oh no.”

Annabelle stopped stretching her back at the flicker of worry. This wasn’t good. Come to think of it, most everyone had hightailed it out of the bedroom with varying degrees of worry and anxiety etched on their faces.

Why was everyone acting so weird? And Katie led the pack in the odd behavior.

“What’s the big deal?” Annabelle asked.

Her friend tugged at the lining of her sleeve. “You were supposed to wake up refreshed and you said you were tired and—”

Annabelle shook her head and made a beeline for the door. “Katie, what are you talking about? I couldn’t have been in the chair for more than a few minutes.” She clinked the ice in her glass. “See? I still have my drink.”

“A few minutes? Annabelle, you sat in that chair for at least fifteen. Maybe we should find Mike again and have him—”

“Relax. I’m fine. Maybe with all the dark lighting I dozed off for a bit. You know how I could always take catnaps in school. Come to think of it, I did have a nice minidream. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling recharged. Besides, I’m immune to hypnosis, believe me.” She grabbed her purse and dropped her glass onto the oak end table.

“What, no coaster?” Katie asked, a line creasing between her eyebrows.

Annabelle lifted a shoulder. “Who needs ’em?” And she made a hasty escape out the door, but not before hearing Katie’s gasped intake of breath.

AFTER QUICKLY WEAVING through the mishmash of parked cars, Annabelle unlocked her used, but reliable, Volvo, fired up the engine and took off. At least Katie didn’t try to follow her. What was the big deal? So she didn’t use a coaster… that didn’t mean she’d been hypnotized.

She’d seen her share of hypnosis scams. Her father’s “clients” had sought him out to break bad habits, but the main thing he’d managed to make disappear was their money. Heck, she could write a textbook on the beaut her father had operated in Kansas. That time he’d offered a free session and people from the simply curious to the truly desperate flocked to the storefront he’d decked out to look as professional as any dentist’s office.

Of course, getting them through the front door was his sole goal. Once inside, he’d introduce them to his special vitamins, drinks and eventually the “investment club” only for his best clients. Hypnosis was only the hook—it was her father’s charisma and the sheer force of his personality which really mesmerized his unsuspecting patrons.

It was amazing how her father had become so proficient in “relieving” so many people of their money but never managed to keep any of it. When he’d died, he’d left her a mountain of bills, mostly money owed to her relatives. She’d never forget the hours after her father’s funeral when her aunt and uncle had asked about the savings and stocks her father had “invested” for them. And the sickening feeling of telling them they’d been fleeced. Like so many others in her father’s wake.

But this time had been different. This time he’d hurt family. A few weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday, she’d taken her GED and went to work to support her aging aunt and uncle. She’d also shed any remnants of the carefree teenager she’d been.

A self too much like her father.

Annabelle turned off the radio, letting the road noise be her music. What she’d told her friend was true. The tired excuse was just that, an excuse. She was more than fine, she felt exhilarated, charged with energy.

Nor was she ready to go home. She loved driving through Oklahoma City at night. A leisurely car ride around the lake would buoy her lifting spirits higher. Although she wouldn’t admit it to Katie, that party was exactly what she’d needed, after all. With a few deft turns of the steering wheel, she easily navigated the suburban streets and headed north toward Lake Hefner.

Some of her favorite memories were set around this lake. Several times while she had been in school, her father had signed her out and driven her to this very area. They’d sat on the hard rocks outlining the lake and fed the ducks bread. He’d said they were playing hooky together. She’d loved those special times. Now she recognized it as one more sign of her father’s gross irresponsibility.

She rolled down the windows to let the night air chase away the blues. Thoughts of her father always made her feel blue. The dark water lapped against the rocks, awakening her senses. Tonight turned out to be one of those singular, beautiful December evenings, warm with just a hint of a breeze.

The night air caressed her skin. It was a reminder that the promising days of spring would welcome her, if she could just get through the winter.

But right now, her life didn’t hold much hope.

Maybe Katie was right. Maybe it was time to fire up the old résumé. Wagner knew of her eventual goal to work as a financial counselor. She looked forward to helping people bail themselves out of debt and learn better spending habits. Leaving Wagner was only a matter of time. What she told Katie this afternoon was true. She was ready to move on.

Maybe it was time to stop fantasizing about her boss. Yeah, right. When, in the past four years, had she not gone to bed dreaming of Wagner Achrom?

Originally, the plan had been to serve as his administrative assistant until she completed the final credits of her degree and paid her father’s debts.

When her feelings had changed she wasn’t sure. Wagner was unlike any man she’d ever known. A powerful, respected and maybe even feared businessman, he’d walked away from a successful career as a corporate raider to set up his own company. Smart and shrewd, not a man who could be taken in by someone like her father. And whenever he looked at her with those dark blue eyes of his, she very nearly melted onto her swivel chair. Magnetic, confident and gorgeous, Wagner was a man who could appreciate order and precision. How could she not have fallen in love with him?

Annabelle pounded her palm against the steering wheel. Why did she have to be such an idiot? Wagner only had two things on his mind—building his business and keeping it at the top. And she didn’t figure into either one of those goals.

What she needed was to forget about work once in a while. Take a day off.

Katie had been telling her to do that for years, but until this moment, it never sounded like a good idea.

That settled things. She would start the weekend early. She was taking Friday off. Hey, she was due.

Flipping on her signal light, she turned right into a grocery-store parking lot. She hadn’t planned on shopping this evening. In fact, she’d never been in this store, didn’t know the layout. Usually, she hated not having an idea of where the items she needed were, walking the aisle clueless. But then, she didn’t know what she needed tonight. She just craved…something. Something sweet and full of calories. Yeah, that was precisely what she needed. Yummy.

WAGNER ACHROM LIKED nothing more than an early Monday morning. He despised the society-imposed restrictions on working weekends. How was a man supposed to build a business that way?

He flipped on his office light, powered up his computer and then scanned his desk.

And scanned it again.

Something wasn’t right. His desk was…bare. Where was his day calendar? No coffee cup was waiting for him on the coaster, either. Annabelle always left those two essential items on his desk before he arrived. How was a man supposed to start his day without knowing what he needed to do and without the essential caffeine jump-start?

Wagner stalked back into the outer office. She wasn’t there. In fact, there was no sign she’d even come in this morning. The blinds remained closed and her headset was still looped over the telephone. This didn’t bode well for a productive Monday. Especially after she hadn’t come to work on Friday.

Maybe he should call Ms. Scott. With a wary downward glance, he eyed the multiline telephone on her desk. He hated that phone. His cell would work quite nicely. But before he could press the speed dial for her number, he flicked the cell case closed. Ms. Scott would be here. She’d promised on Friday. And his assistant always kept her promises.

Feeling at a loss, he returned to his office and reclined in the executive chair, which never failed to ease his lower-back muscles. Annabelle had picked it out, always anticipating what he needed. He peered into the outer office, willing her to be there.

No reason to let this little setback throw off his day. So she was late. Everyone could be late once in a while. Once. Once being the key word.

He had to keep his wits about him to seal the Anderson merger. That merger remained crucial for the realization of his own ideas. All he’d worked toward over the last four years, the promise he’d made to his mother, to himself, that he’d leave his cutthroat job and find a use for his dad’s patents centered on this deal’s success. It would work because he’d make it.

He drummed his fingers on his desk. This was crazy. He’d built his business from the ground up. From nothing. His entire operation didn’t come to a standstill simply because he didn’t have a piece of paper waiting for him on his desk.

But first he needed coffee. He didn’t have time to run to the coffee shop as he had on Friday. With purpose, he strode to the breakroom. They called it a room, but it was little more than a storage closet with a table, two chairs, a minifridge and coffeemaker. A coffeemaker, which he had no idea how to operate.

First things first. A paper filter. He searched all over the small space, but couldn’t find a single one. In desperation, he opened the coffee bin, hoping Annabelle might have left a clean filter in there as she tidied up the area before leaving last week. He yanked on the bin handle. When had they gone to this funny little cone thing instead of good, sturdy paper filters?

Wagner spooned in what looked like enough grounds, pushed the bin home and flipped the switch. He watched as the coffee dripped into the carafe.

The dark aroma drifted to his nose and he relaxed in satisfaction. It smelled like coffee should. Why was he worried? He’d made coffee plenty of times.

A few times.

At least once.

The front door opened and closed. Annabelle must have arrived. Good. Now maybe he could get some work done. He grabbed two mugs and poured the coffee. He’d never made Annabelle coffee before. But it seemed like the thing to do. He’d taken two steps when he stopped.

What was that sound?

Was that humming he heard from the front office? Was Annabelle humming? Annabelle never hummed. It was sort of—what was the word?— sweet. He kind of liked the sound of it.

She was obviously in a good mood, obviously feeling better. He’d been concerned when she’d taken a personal day on Friday. Wagner leaned one shoulder against the wall. He’d never really noticed Annabelle ever having a mood. That was one of the reasons that they worked so well together. And she’d been working her tail off these last few weeks. After this merger, he could hire more staff to ease her load. Hopefully he’d never be this low on employees again.

He watched as she leisurely removed her pink lightweight jacket and draped it over the back of her chair. He’d never figured her for a pink kind of woman. Nor as someone who draped clothing on the back of a chair. But she did good things for pink— it was a perfect foil for the warm brown of her eyes.

What was he thinking? And about Ms. Scott. Wagner shook his head to loosen the hold of his bizarre thoughts. She’d probably be horrified if she knew the directions his mind had been taking lately. Mostly south.

He watched in fascination as she pulled a tiny ivy plant from a plastic grocery bag and placed it on her desk. As she leaned forward, a lock of her long, brown hair fell across her face. “You have curly hair,” he said.

Annabelle glanced up, a curl falling over her left eye. Her pink lips curved into a welcoming smile. He hadn’t noticed how sweet her lips looked before, either.

“What?” she asked, her eyebrows drawn in confusion.

He pointed with his coffee cup. “Your hair. I’ve never noticed how curly your hair is.”

Annabelle smiled briefly and smoothed the curls behind her ears. “The curl’s natural. I never really liked it much, but this morning for some reason, I felt like wearing my hair down.”

Before he could utter another inane, obvious comment, Wagner placed one of the mugs on her desk. “I didn’t see you at your desk when I came in. I can’t remember the last time you were late.”

That strange, swelling sensation filled him again as he watched her roll out her desk chair and sit down. After a few more moments of fiddling with things on her desk, she turned to look at him. Her face scrunched when her eyes left his face and lowered to his clothes. “I’ve never been late.”

Scratching his temple, he did a mental overview. “Come to think of it, you haven’t.”

She didn’t say anything. In fact, Annabelle just sat staring at his tie. He glanced down. Nothing on the black silk. He flicked a piece of lint off his matching black shirt.

“I need you to fax a few things from the Marsh file and please pull my calendar.” He turned to leave.

“Nah.”

He stopped halfway to his office door and turned around. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What?” he asked.

“You know, you could use a little color.”

“What?” he asked again, feeling like an idiot.

“In your wardrobe, a little red or maybe something blue to match your eyes.”