Читать книгу She Did a Bad, Bad Thing - Stephanie Bond, Stephanie Bond - Страница 7

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THE NEXT MORNING, Jane stepped out into the hallway and set down a bag of garbage so she could lock her condo door. She blinked rapidly to focus on the lock through the sunglasses—ridiculous, but necessary to hide her gritty, puffy eyes. Her new neighbor and his girlfriend would get a good belly laugh if they knew that their offhand remarks about her sad little life had caused her a sleepless night of crying into her pillow. She was quite sure she was so insignificant to them that they wouldn’t even recall what they’d said.

While she struggled to slide the key into the keyhole, her new neighbor’s door opened, to her dismay. She didn’t look up, just stabbed at the keyhole as a flush raced up her neck and face.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Morning,” she murmured, keeping her back to him.

“Having problems?”

“No.” She set her jaw and tried to steady her hand, but she continued to fumble.

Suddenly a large hand closed over hers gently. “Let me.”

She stiffened, but relinquished the key and stepped back from his big body just to escape his touch. She turned, expecting to see his girlfriend loitering nearby, but he was alone, and dressed in a suit as best as she could tell through her dark lenses. His briefcase sat on the floor next to her garbage bag.

The deadbolt clicked. Then he turned and handed her the keys, flashing a smile.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

“Hey, no wonder you couldn’t see,” he said with a laugh. “What’s up with the shades?”

And before she realized what he was doing, he had lifted them from her face. She blinked at the sudden light and grabbed to retrieve the glasses, mortified for him to see her swollen, red-rimmed eyes. If he thought she was homely yesterday, this morning she was downright ugly.

She saw him blanch before she jammed the dark glasses back on her face. “Allergies,” she murmured, then reached for her garbage.

“I got that,” he said, snatching up the bag. “Actually, you can show me where I need to put my trash.”

She didn’t say anything, just nodded, and walked down the hall to the garbage chute. “There,” she said, pointing. “See you later.”

She veered off toward the stairs, thinking he’d take the elevator. Instead, after dropping the garbage, he followed her down the stairs.

“Hey, I’m sorry again about the noise last night,” he said. “I didn’t realize the walls were so thin.”

She didn’t respond—she knew Perry Brewer’s type. He’d throw a few nice words her way, then ask her to be home to sign for his furniture delivery. Jane picked up the pace and managed to reach the parking garage first.

“I didn’t get your last name,” he said a few paces behind her.

She rolled her eyes—as if he remembered her first name.

He caught up to her and gave her a little smile.

“Come on, we’re neighbors—I should know your last name.”

“It’s Kurtz. Goodbye.” She strode past her empty parking spot toward the guest parking area, relieved to be away from him, although she could feel his gaze boring into her back, surveying her chinos, yellow polo shirt, black Skechers sneakers and ponytail. Was he fascinated in her as a geeky specimen?

When she reached her car, she groaned to see a sizable dent in her driver’s side door, obviously caused by the door of another car that was long gone. She removed her dark glasses and bent to run her hand over the dent—her car was old, but she tried to take good care of it. To add insult to injury, she realized suddenly that her back tire was flat, caused, no doubt, by the nail sticking out of it. A handful of nails lay scattered around the back of her car, probably dropped by some maintenance worker who also parked in the guest area.

She blinked back hot tears—she didn’t need this. She’d overslept because she was so tired and was already running late.

At the sound of a car slowing, she turned her head to see the big, black SUV, and Perry leaning toward the lowered passenger side window.

“Need a ride?”

She wiped her eyes and jammed the glasses back on her face. “No, I’ll call a repair service.”

“That could take a while. I can drop you wherever you need to be.”

She massaged her temples—she just wanted the vile man to go away.

“I feel responsible,” he called, then leaned over and opened the passenger side door. “Let me do this.”

Jane stared at the open door. Then she glanced at her watch. It would mean the difference between her getting to work on time or throwing her entire day—and maybe the show—off schedule.

“Come on,” he cajoled. Jane decided it was the least he could do since his girlfriend was the root cause of her current predicament.

She walked over and took the hand he extended to climb into the SUV. His fingers were strong and warm as they enclosed hers. She clambered into the seat with an unladylike bounce, and tugged her hand from his. She closed the door and sat as close to it as possible while she put on her seatbelt. Perry was smiling at her like some kind of gallant knight in training. Even through the dark glasses, she could see he was more handsome in his suit than he’d been half-dressed last night. And she was surprised to discover that Nasty Boy had a professional job.

“Where am I taking you?” he asked.

She tore her gaze from him to stare straight ahead and gave him the street address.

“That’s the cable TV station, isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“What do you do for them?”

Jane squirmed, reluctant to give the man any more ammunition to use against her.

“I work on a local talk show.”

“What’s the name of the show?”

“Just Between Us.”

“Hey, that’s the show with the looker host, right?”

“Eve Best…yes, she’s beautiful.” Jane looked out the window, with the words that he’d said about her own appearance looping in her head. Homely little geek…homely little geek…homely little geek. She inched closer to the door.

“Sounds like an exciting job,” he said, but she didn’t offer any commentary. The silence stretched awkwardly, and she willed the morning traffic to move faster.

His cell phone rang and he said, “Excuse me,” then hit a hands-free speaker button on his visor. “Perry Brewer.”

“You’re late,” a woman’s voice accused.

“Good morning to you, too, Theresa. I’m on my way.”

“You’re due in court in thirty minutes, cowboy. Are you going to make it?”

“I’ll be there,” he said smoothly. “And I have the files I need.”

“I don’t have to tell you what’s riding on this hearing, Perry.”

“No, Theresa, you don’t,” he said, his voice more solemn.

“Good luck. Call me when it’s over.”

“Will do.” He disconnected the call, then glanced over at Jane. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” she said. “But it sounds as if I’m making you late. You can let me out here and I’ll get a taxi.”

“No need,” he said easily. “We’re almost there, and I’ll be going against traffic when I leave your office.”

Silence fell between them again, and Jane started to feel rude for not reciprocating his small talk. “So you’re an attorney?”

He cracked a little smile. “That’s what my business card says.”

“And you have a big case today?”

“Bigger than most.”

She pictured him in front of a courtroom and realized that the man was probably good at what he did—he was, after all, charming, convincing…two-faced.

With the requisite small talk out of the way, she concentrated on the bumper of the car in front of them, checked the strap on her shoulder bag and generally fidgeted. The man made her nervous and hyperaware of her appearance. Next to his ultra-feminine girlfriend, she felt like a boy.

And she didn’t like it.

PERRY WATCHED the slender woman next to him out of the corner of his eye, squirming, positioning herself as far away from him as possible. He felt like a jerk. Seeing those puffy eyes of hers this morning was like a punch to his gut—it didn’t take a genius to figure out that his callous words of the night before had upset her…had made her cry all night from the looks of it.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, remorse coursing through him. Words of apology watered in his mouth, but he had a feeling that he’d only make things worse if he brought it up. Still, he had to own up to his bad behavior.

“Listen…Jane,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I have a big mouth and I have a feeling that you overheard something I said last night that…was unkind.”

She didn’t say anything, but he could tell by the way she stiffened that he was right—she had over-heard him…and her red-rimmed eyes had nothing to do with allergies.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“No need to apologize,” she said quickly, tugging on the strap of her bag. “You have a right to your opinion.”

“But I didn’t mean it. I was in a bad mood and I’d had too much to drink.”

She gave him a little half smile. “It’s okay, Mr. Brewer—I have a mirror. I know that I’m not…exciting.”

The resignation in her voice tugged at his heart. “Jane—”

“That’s my building on the corner. I’ll get out here.”

“I’ll drive you to the front—”

But she was already out of the vehicle, swinging down to the curb.

“Do you need a ride home?” he shouted, strangely eager to do something else for her.

“No, thanks. Good luck on your case.” Then she slammed the door and took off jogging toward the entrance of her building.

He watched her moving away from him, juggling her oversized shoulder bag, her ponytail bouncing like a teenager’s. Dressed like a coed, she looked young…and alone. And she had wished him luck on his case…even after what he’d said about her, she had tried to be nice.

Were there really people like that left in the world?

A horn sounded behind him, jarring him out of his reverie. He hit the gas pedal and told himself to focus—he was facing the biggest case of his career this morning.

Yet all he could think about on the way to the courthouse was the young woman he had wounded with his careless words. And he realized with a start that he’d like to get to know Jane Kurtz better…if only he could convince her to let him.