Читать книгу Beauty and the Brooding Boss / Friends to Forever - Никки Логан - Страница 12

STOP being a coward.

Kelsey stood outside Alex’s bedroom door for five minutes with her hand poised to knock. Much as she didn’t want to, she couldn’t put off this conversation any longer. Mr. Lefkowitz wanted a status report. After days of dodging his e-mail requests, she got a phone call. A very testy phone call. “I hope the reason I haven’t heard from you is because you’re too busy typing,” he said as soon as she answered. That had been the high point of the conversation.

She knocked.

Alex’s answer came back deep and distracted. “Yeah?”

Pushing open the door, she poked her head into the room and saw him seated at his desk near the window. Dozens of crumpled yellow balls littered the floor around his feet. He was working. A good sign. “Sorry to bother you.”

“But you’re going to anyway. What is it?”

“Mr. Lefkowitz called. He wants to know how the book was coming.”

Alex didn’t look up. “I’m sure you filled him in on all the details.”

“Actually I told him you were making great progress and were almost finished.”

That got his attention. He turned sideways to look at her. “Did you now? And why would you say something like that?”

Kelsey shrugged. Why indeed? She wasn’t quite sure except as soon as she heard Mr. Lefkowitz’s irritated voice, she felt the overwhelming urge to take Alex’s side. True or not.

“Are you making progress?”

“Depends on how you define progress.”

“Moving forward.” Having pages to type. The last notebook was nearly transcribed and still no new ones had appeared. Which wouldn’t be so terrible, if he was busy editing what had already been written, but as far as she could tell that wasn’t happening either.

“Interesting definition.” Tearing the top sheet from the pad, he added it to the collection of yellow wads on the floor.

Kelsey watched it arc and drop. “So I lied to Stuart.”

“If you say so. Why would you tell him something you didn’t know for certain?”

“I thought I was doing you a favor.”

“A favor?”

“By keeping your editor off your back.” His suspicious tone made her bristle. “You sound like I have some ulterior motive.”

He shrugged. “Maybe you do.”

Jeez. And she thought relations between them had thawed over the last couple days. Ever since he’d repaired her coffee mug, albeit poorly, she’d felt closer. So much for that illusion. “What could I possibly be after?”

“You tell me.”

“Oh, brother.” Shooting him a dramatic eye roll, she leaned against the door frame. “You caught me. Getting your medicine, lying to Stuart—they’re part of a grand ploy to soften you up. Really, you should hear yourself sometimes.”

“Do you blame me?”

The truth? Not really. But they needed to get past this issue. “You’re not the first person to get burned by the people around him,” she replied in a gentler voice.

“What’s that mean?”

“Nothing.” She wasn’t about to get into a contest over who had suffered a bigger betrayal. “Look, I thought I was helping. Next time I’ll tell Mr. Lefkowitz the truth. That better?”

“Better would be not telling Stuart anything at all.”

“I have to tell him something.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my job, and he needs to know.” She let out a long, calming breath. “Not everyone is out to get you, Alex, or get something from you.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Wow.” She understood his bitterness; she really did. But why couldn’t he see she wasn’t the enemy? Hadn’t they made any headway over the past few weeks? “I’m beginning to see why he’s paying me extra to work here.”

Not wanting to wait to hear his response, which wasn’t going to be something she wanted to hear anyway, she went to her room. Sometimes she wanted to kick Alex Markoff for his obstinacy. All she wanted was to be his friend.

Really, that’s what you want? His friendship?

Yes, that was all. Sure, she was attracted to Alex. Incredibly attracted. But hit and run affairs weren’t really her style. Affairs weren’t her style, period. And neither was acting on her attraction—assuming Alex was remotely interested. Which, seeing as how he trusted no one, wasn’t likely.

Screw it. She peeled off her cotton tank top and threw it on the bed. If he didn’t care about his manuscript getting done, why should she?

A knock sounded on her door. “Kelsey?”

What now? Grabbing her tank, she thrust it back on and opened the door. “What?”

A pair of very contrite eyes met hers, killing every ounce of her earlier acrimony. “Is Stuart really paying you extra to work here?”

“If I say yes, will you use it against me?”

His mouth had come dangerously close to curving into a smile. “I’ll try not to.” He looked around at the bare bones bedroom, checking out the setting like it was the first time he’d been there. “You’re very neat,” he said all of a sudden.

“Makes packing easier.” As well as moving on.

Alex nodded, and in her mind she wondered if he wasn’t agreeing with both points.

The coffee mug he had repaired sat crookedly on top of the bureau. He walked over and picked it up. “Not my best repair job in the world, that’s for sure. I notice you don’t use it, so I was right—it doesn’t hold liquid.”

“I didn’t try.” She’d been afraid to find out lest it fall apart again. After seeing it smashed to bits, she wasn’t about to take any chances. Even now she was fighting the urge to slip the mug from Alex’s grasp. “Why are you here? Did you knock on my door merely to confirm my pay rate?”

“Ah, so he is paying extra.” Setting down the mug, he continued his tour, stopping at the window. His broad shoulders filled the frame. “How much?”

The appropriate answer would be “none of your business,” but the truth came out without second thought. “Triple.”

“Triple.” He took a moment to let the answer sink in. “Says it all, doesn’t it. That why you took the job? For the money?”

“Yes.”

The look crossing his face as he turned was a mixture of surprise and admiration. “I appreciate the honesty. Though I have to say, you don’t strike me as the mercenary type.” He cocked his head to study her better. “What’s your story, Kelsey Albertelli?”

Now was the time to tell him to bug off, same as he did whenever she asked a personal question. “It’s complicated.”

“How so?”

“Now who’s prying into whose private business?”

“Point taken,” he replied with a nod. Sincerity marked every feature and Kelsey realized, with more than a little admiration, that he wouldn’t press her for more. He was respecting her privacy.

Her chest swelled. She wasn’t used to respect. The notion that someone would honor her privacy made her feel … well, special, she supposed. She stared into Alex’s eyes, feeling herself being drawn in.

The two of them were a lot alike, weren’t they? Both keeping the world at arm’s length, rather than offering or asking more than necessary. Her chest went from being tight to feeling warm and full. The feeling grew bigger and started inching its way outward, down her limbs and to her toes. A nebulous longing to be closer gripped her. Suddenly sharing her story didn’t sound all that horrible.

“My grandmother, she—”

“No need to explain.” He held up a palm. “You’re right. I was prying.”

Kelsey smiled. Again she appreciated the respect, despite the fact it restored their distance to arm’s length.

“And thank you,” he continued, “for covering with Stuart. I’m not used to—well, it’s been a long time since someone did me a favor for no reason.”

“I understand.”

“I know.” His long assessing look reached deep inside her, stirring emotions she couldn’t identify.

And wasn’t really sure she wanted to.

A week later, Alex had a doctor’s appointment to check out his arm. Since he couldn’t drive his stick shift, Kelsey drew chauffeur duties. Normally she wouldn’t mind, but she’d failed to factor in what it would be like sharing an enclosed space with Alex. His long frame mere inches from hers. His body heat mingling with hers the entire trip, filling the air with his scent. His hand rested on the armrest, close enough to her that when she touched the gearshift, the underside of her forearm would brush across his knuckles. Thank goodness, she chose to take her car rather than Alex’s sports car. Driving a standard, with the distraction of continually touching him—no matter how lightly—would result in them ending up in a ditch somewhere.

Since silence only exacerbated the situation, she forced conversation. Fortunately, Alex was in a talkative mood. At least, talkative for him. After exhausting the weather and road conditions, she decided to take a risk and ask something she’d been dying to know since her arrival. “May I ask you a personal question?”

Of course, the moment she said personal, wariness crept into his expression. “What do you want to know?”

“How did you break your arm?”

“Oh, that.” Relief returned to his face. “Stuart didn’t tell you?”

She shook her head. “He only said you broke it.”

“Well, score one for discretion.” He sounded surprised. “I tripped over a root and fell while walking in the woods.”

“You were by yourself?” Obviously. “How did you get help?”

“I broke my arm, not my leg. I made my way back to the house and called an ambulance.”

Somehow Kelsey doubted the scenario went quite as smoothly as he described it. Navigating a wooded path with a broken arm … Poor man must have been in tremendous pain. “And you had no one to help you.”

“You’re assuming I wanted help.”

She thought of the other day. “No, I’m assuming you could have used help.”

“Didn’t we cover the problems with assumption the other afternoon?”

“Was this before or after you were lying incapacitated on the sofa?”

“I would debate your use of the word incapacitated, but in this case I got myself to the hospital just fine.”

And came home by himself to an empty house. She knew Alex chose to live that way, but the idea of Alex alone and in pain made her sad. “What about painkillers and medication and all that?”

“I managed.”

“I’m sure you did.” Managed. It sounded so … lacking. Like he was getting by with the bare minimum.

You should know, Kelsey. Manage had been the story of her life. Manage and adapt.

Why then, did manage suddenly feel inadequate?

“So is that when you started writing longhand?” she asked, pulling herself back to the conversation.

“No, I’ve always written by pencil. Started when I was teaching and would scribble notes between—”

“You were a teacher?” She nearly hit the brakes.

“High school English.”

“Unbelievable.” She shook her head.

“What, you can’t picture me as a teacher?”

“In a word, no.” She couldn’t picture him interacting with people, let alone teaching teenagers.

“It didn’t last long. I was far more interested in my own work than A Tale of Two Cities. But writing longhand stuck. You never know when some detail or passage will spring to mind.” His mouth came dangerously close to curving into a smile. At least Kelsey thought she caught a glimmer before it disappeared. “I once wrote an entire short story during a dinner party.”

“Really?” Now that was an Alex she could picture, hiding out from the crowd, lost in his work. “I finished your last notebook yesterday,” she told him.

“Is that a not so subtle way of reminding me Stuart wants his book?”

“Yup.” She smiled.

“Spoken like a true babysitter.”

“Speaking of not-so-subtle reminders,” she murmured.

“Hey.” A hand touched her forearm. A rush ran up her arm and she had to squeeze the steering wheel to keep it from traveling further. “As babysitters go, you aren’t that bad. Stuart could have foisted far worse on me.”

“Wow.” A sideways glance showed Alex’s expression was sincere. “A girl could get a big head from that kind of sweet talk.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Meanwhile the memory of his touch remained on her skin, a warm, firm pressure far more reassuring than it should be.

She cleared her throat, hoping to clear away the sensation too. “Since we’ve established that I’m the official whip cracker, will I be seeing more pages soon?”

Alex turned his face to the scenery. “Eventually.”

There was little enthusiasm to his answer. In fact, if she didn’t know better she’d say he actually sounded sad. Now she wanted to give him the reassuring touch.

Something inside made her refrain, settling instead for a smile and a change of subject. “Just planning my schedule. If I don’t have anything to type, the more time Puddin’ and I have to work on our tans.”

“Puddin’, huh?” There was a satisfying note of relief in his voice. “That mangy cat of yours still around?”

“Whoa, he’s not my cat. Puddin’ is strictly a free agent.”

“Says the woman who named him.”

“I told you, everyone deserves an identity. The world has enough faceless orphans.”

“Orphan?”

“Stray, orphan. Same thing, right?” Kelsey brushed her hair behind her ear. She could feel Alex studying her, wondering about the slip. He wouldn’t ask though. He’d leave it up to her to explain or not, respecting her right to privacy. It was one of the traits she loved—

Check that. Admired. It was one of the traits she admired about him.

Love was nowhere in the picture.

Kelsey thought forty-five minutes flipping through gossip and consumer magazines would clear the queer thoughts from her head, but no such luck. The second Alex appeared in the doctor’s reception area doorway, her pulse quickened. He was gorgeous no matter the setting, but the contrast between the institutional décor and his dark virility was awe-inspiring. She wasn’t the only one to notice either. The nurses and receptionist all perked up upon his appearance too. Kelsey wasn’t sure, but she swore one woman actually licked her lower lip.

Oblivious, Alex’s eyes sought her out. “Dr. Cohen got tied up with another patient so I had to wait,” he said in the flat, semi-annoyed voice she’d come to expect.

“No harm, no foul,” she replied. “Gave me time to catch upon the latest gossip. Oh, and how to evaluate flat-screen TVs,” she added quickly when she saw the disdain crop into his expression. “Are you ready to go?”

“Don’t forget your appointment card,” the receptionist called out.

Kelsey bit back her smile at Alex’s rolled eyes. The receptionist was painstakingly scheduling his appointment, leaning forward a little more than necessary in her opinion. The woman shot her a jealous glare when she joined Alex at the check-in desk. Again, she controlled her urge to grin. Did her hermit have any idea how many heads he was turning?

Whoa. Her hermit? Where did that come from?

“Did Dr. Cohen say when the cast would come off?” she asked, shaking off the thought.

“End of summer. Same answer he gave me last time. I’m beginning to think he’s incapable of giving an exact date.”

“Probably because you’d hold him to it.”

“That’s a bad thing?”

“It is if your arm hasn’t healed by then. Or maybe Dr. Cohen simply wants to string you along because he enjoys your company.”

Alex made a noise deep in his throat and took the appointment card. This time Kelsey not only smiled, she giggled. Lately she’d been finding Alex’s grumpy demeanor more amusing. Guess because he’d slipped enough times for her to know he actually had a heart underneath.

“While we’re out, are there any other errands you need to run?” she asked while they made their way through the parking lot. “Bank? Library? Groceries? We were low on coffee this morning.”

We? Again with the possessiveness. What was with her today?

Thankfully Alex either didn’t notice or care about the slip. “Coffee would be good. Milk too. And maybe,” he paused, as if unsure about his next words, “maybe some of those apricot turnovers.”

Was that pink coloring his cheeks? Kelsey couldn’t believe it. Dear Lord, he couldn’t look cuter if he tried. Insides fluttering, Kelsey grinned. “All right then, we’ll stop at Farley’s.”