by Jacob Chance
Luke’s eyes leap to her, as if he didn’t notice she was there until I mentioned it. His slow perusal from her head to her toes makes his interest obvious. “I’m Luke. It’s nice to meet you, Roxanne.”
She takes his hand. “Likewise.”
I clap my hands together once to break up their introduction. Luke never lacks female companionship. As if I’m not already having to work harder than ever to capture her interest. All I need is another dude getting in my way.
When both of them look at me, I ask, “Should we get started?”
“Oh, right. So if you’ll follow me, I need to show you something in the bathrooms you’ll be working on,” Luke says, walking toward a side hallway.
I wink at Roxanne and mouth, “I told you so.” She narrows her eyes, shooting me a glare, and flips me off. I smile, angering her more.
Losing myself in my task, the morning passes quickly. I’ve been working on the ladies’ room expansion, tiling one of the two side walls in the bathroom stalls. The white subway tiles go up easily. After all the tiles I’ve laid in my career, I enjoy the mindlessness of the work.
It gives me more time to think about Roxanne and wonder what she’s doing. I noticed on the sign in the lobby that Manfax is on the second floor. She could be right on top of me now. I smile at the thought.
Seeing her earlier cemented how strong my attraction for her is—and it’s not only physical. Being near her makes me happy, and her quick-to-sass mouth excites me. Even when she scowls, I still can’t resist her.
I clean myself up and head toward the lobby. My stomach’s been growling since mid-morning and I’ve held off as long as I can. My eyes flick toward the elevator. Should I ask Roxanne to lunch?
Deciding to wait until tomorrow, I step outside. Breathing in the fresh air, I pause to figure out where I want to eat. Spotting a familiar cafe, I move down the sidewalk, enjoying the sun’s heat bathing the top of my head and shoulders.
Entering the small cafe, I wait in line before placing my order. Turning around, I scan the tables for a vacancy. My eyes come to a screeching halt when they land on Roxanne, and she’s not alone. Who’s the guy across from her? The one who seems completely enamored with whatever she’s saying. Is this her boyfriend?
Stalking over, I can barely keep myself from scowling. Taking a page from Rex’s book, I imagine dragging him from the chair, my fist meeting his face. I smile at the thought of his nose exploding in a bloody mess.
“Adam, what are you doing here?” Roxanne questions, ripping me from my bloodthirsty thoughts.
“I eat lunch too, Rocky.”
Her lips tighten. “I know you do. I just didn’t expect you to be here.”
“You never know where I might appear.”
“So I’m realizing,” she mutters.
“Who’s your friend?” I ask, nodding toward her companion.
“This is Jerry, one of the private investigators I work with. Jerry, this is Adam. He’s Danika’s future brother-in-law.”
Jerry’s smile is tight as he sizes me up.
Yeah, motherfucker, you should be worried.
“It’s nice to meet you, Adam.” He doesn’t offer his hand, and neither do I.
“You too, Jerry.”
“Adam is working on renovating our building,” Roxanne explains.
“Oh, right. I remember hearing that they’re updating the bathrooms. What else are you doing?” Jerry asks.
“Some painting, some window replacements, and some other stuff.”
“How long will it take to be done?” he persists.
I smirk. “As long as it takes.” Why should I let him know how long I’ll be around for?
My order number gets called out. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab my grub. I’ll see you later.” I tell Roxanne.
“Not if I see you first.” She smiles to lessen the impertinence of her reply.
“Oh, I’ll be seeing you, Rocky. You can bank on that.” I wink.
15
Roxanne
“Is there any romantic history with you two? Jerry asks, his stare on Adam as he approaches the counter.
My lips curve in bemusement. “Am I being investigated now? Take off your work hat. We’re at lunch.”
He shrugs. “I didn’t care for his attitude. He acted like he had a claim on you.”
I snort. “He did no such thing. You don’t have to play the protective big brother. I’m a big girl.”
His brows dip, giving me the impression he doesn’t like me calling him that.
“Yeah, big brother. That’s me.” The sarcasm coating his reply confirms the dislike.
Uh oh. This isn’t good. Jerry’s my employee and someone I consider a friend. Suddenly he’s giving off vibes that he wants more. Where did this come from?
“Jerry, you’re my employee.”
“I am.”
One of my brows climbs. “You know what that means.”
“It doesn’t have to mean anything. We’re adults—there are no rules beyond what we decide.”
“Yes, there are. Maybe they’re not written in stone, but common sense has to kick in. I won’t mix business and pleasure.”
“I can always stop working for you. Then it won’t be a concern. There are plenty of other P.I.s you can hire.”
Shit. He’s not giving in.
“You’re irreplaceable to me.”
“As a P.I.,” he grouses.
Maybe he does understand. But I don’t want to hurt his feelings.
Bracing my arms on the table, I lean forward. “As a friend.”
“Friendship is a great base for a relationship to be built on,” he shoots back, looking hopeful.
“I’m sure it is, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I don’t do relationships.”
He leans toward me. “Maybe you should give it a shot with me.”
“Jerry, don’t push this. We have a great working relationship, and that’s all we’ll have. I hope you can accept that.” I leave off the or you won't be working for me anymore, but the implication is there.
He nods. “I understand.”
Returning to my office, I fall into my chair with a groan. Laying my head back, I stare at the white ceiling. Lunch with Jerry was so freaking awkward. He’s been working for me since I started Manfax. Why he’s trying to change our dynamic now, I don’t understand. Has he always had feelings for me? God, I hope not.
“What’s going on, Rox?” Lisa bustles into my office, stopping next to my chair.
“Don’t ask.”
“Well, now I have to know.” She laughs.
Rolling my head to the side, I meet her curious gaze. “Oh, Jerry basically said he’s interested in me.”
“And this comes as a surprise to you?” Lisa’s brown eyes pop wide open. “It’s so obvious that he likes you. How have you missed this?”
I release a long, drawn-out sigh. “I don’t know.”
“I joke about it with Kirk all the time,” she mentions the other P.I. I employ.
“Excellent,” I droll.
“So what are you going to do about his massive crush?”
“I told him it’ll never happen and made it clear if he can’t accept that, then he won’t be working for me anymore.”
Lisa shakes her head. “Poor heartbroken Jerry.”
“He’ll get over it,” I state.
“Maybe not. He’s always had a thing for you,” Lisa replies.
“Really?” She nods. “God, how did I not notice?”
“I’m not sure. It’s not like he hid his attraction. He’s always touching you in some way,” she points out.
“I just assumed he’s an affectionate guy.”
Lost in thought, Lisa’s head tips to the side. “I wonder what made him finally get the courage to bring it up to you.”
I groan. “Funny you should mention that. Adam walked into the cafe while we were there.” Lisa knows all about Adam. When I returned from New Hampshire, I filled her in on ev
erything that happened.
Her face lights with excitement. “Ooh, what’s Mr. Manfax doing around here?”
“He’s working on the renovations in this building.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” she mocks outrage.
“I didn’t get a chance to fill you in this morning. Work took precedence.”
“Roxanne”—she shakes her head—“work will always be there, so juicy gossip should be shared immediately.”
“Is that so?” I ask, interested in hearing her no doubt flawed logic on the matter.
“Tell me what happened,” she orders.
“You’re way too excited about this. It was really nothing. He was in the lobby when I arrived. I asked him what he was doing here, and he never got a chance to answer me. He had to get to work almost immediately.” I’m not about to share how I accused Adam of being here for me. I have to restrain myself from physically cringing as I replay the scene in my mind. It wasn’t one of my better moments.
“I can’t wait to see how long it takes you guys to lock lips again,” Lisa confesses.
“Seriously?”
“Hell yeah. How hilarious is it that our own Mr. Manfax has a thing for you? Talk about a small world.”
“Pfft.” I wave my hand, dismissing her words as nonsense. “It’s an odd coincidence, nothing more.”
“There are no coincidences.” She hums The Twilight Zone theme song.
I laugh. “You have quite an imagination.”
“Think about the slim odds of the two of you meeting, and yet you still did. Don’t you find that to be pretty remarkable?”
I press my lips together in an unimpressed line. “I haven’t really given it much thought.”
The truth is, before today, I haven’t allowed myself to think about Adam much. I’ve buried myself in my work since the trip just to make sure I would crash into bed each night, exhausted enough to fall quickly asleep.
And on the occasions when he has slipped into my thoughts, and I’ve wondered what he’s been up to, I’ve reminded myself how he’s off-limits.
“I’m taking it as a sign you guys are meant to be,” Lisa says, and I giggle at the absurdity.
“Yeah, I’m sure fate has big plans for Adam and me.”
“Fine, Rox. Laugh now, but I’ll be the one laughing when you end up together.”
“I’m so sure we’re not meant for each other that I’ll stake my BMW on it.”
Lisa dances around my office, shaking her ass, singing, “Oh, yeah. I’m getting a new Beamer. I’m getting a new Beamer.”
“Don’t get too excited. It’s still mine.”
“Only for the time being. I can already feel those buttery leather seats underneath me,” she boasts.
“You’re blinded by your romantic nature, which is mind-boggling to me. How can you work for me, see the shitty men we do, and still be a romantic at heart?”
Lisa raises her palms. “What can I say? I believe in love.”
Maybe Lisa is the yin to my yang when it comes to this business. She balances out my cynicism about the opposite sex. As much as I believe most men are born with the predisposition to be disloyal dogs, she believes just as strongly that most men are inherently good. It’s a wonder we click so well.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself as I hurry along the sidewalk. Since I left home, the sky has opened up. Rain pours down forcefully, pelting my umbrella, and the powerful wind shoves me side to side in a drunken gait—which isn’t easy while wearing heels.
The parking area reserved for the building my office is in was repaved yesterday, and the cones are still blocking the entrance. Finding an open meter to park at on this street is a crapshoot. I drove around the block three times before one opened up. Unfortunately, it’s a decent distance from my building.
A gust of air hits and my trusty umbrella turns upward, flipping inside out. I stop and try to fix it, but the metal pieces have snapped in several places.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The torrential downpour pounds my head, face, and shoulders with sharp, cold pinpricks. I sputter as the water slides from the tip of my nose to my lips. Strings of sopping hair hang in my face. Pushing them back with my one free hand, the useless umbrella dangles from the other.
I start progressing forward once more. It seems like forever when my hand closes around the door handle and I escape into the lobby.
Throwing my piece of shit umbrella down on the floor, like a spoiled brat who didn’t get their way, I’m tempted to stomp on it in anger. Too bad I’m occupied with trying to get the wall of sodden hair away from my blurry eyes.
When I finally make some semblance of order out of my hair and swipe my hands under my eyes, I notice Adam. Standing off to the side of the lobby with his arms crossed over his wide chest, he watches with his ever present smirk twitching the corner of his full lips. He’s the last person I want witnessing me at my low moment. Frustrated and annoyed beyond belief, I’m barely holding the tears at bay. I throw my arms straight out at each side, yelling, “Do you like what you see, asshole?”
His gaze skims over my face before trailing lower, hovering on my chest. He tips his head to the side and grins. “It works for me.”
Glancing down, I notice that the light blue blouse I’m wearing has become almost transparent from the rain. I might as well be standing in only my bra. A maniacal laugh slips from my lips before I spit, “Just. Fucking. Perfect.” I should’ve stayed in bed this morning.
Adam comes toward me, stripping off his black Winters Custom Renovations shirt.
Even my shitty mood can’t keep me from stealing a glimpse of his chest and shoulders.
“Roxanne, it’s okay. We got this,” he reassures me. “Let’s get this shirt on you, so you can get up to your office and dry off.” He holds each side of the neck opening.
Dumbfounded, I stare up at him. “But what about you?”
“I always keep an extra shirt with me. Never know when you might need a makeshift bandage.” He winks.
I don’t say another word as he carefully slips the shirt over my head and helps guide my arms through the openings, as if I’m unable to do so myself. I reflexively go along with it, which isn’t like me at all.
In fact, I don’t know why I allow it. Maybe it has to do with how nice it feels to have someone take care of me for a change.
He pulls the black material down until it drapes to mid-thigh. His hands cup my hair, drawing the still wet length from underneath the neckline of his shirt.
Tenderly tucking a stray lock behind my ear, he smiles down at me, as if I’m the most perfect thing he’s ever seen. Despite the mess that I currently am, I feel beautiful at this moment.
My chest fills to overflowing with a plethora of emotions, gratitude at the forefront of them all. Adam gave me the shirt off his own back so I would be more comfortable. And he hasn’t even mentioned how awesome he looks without it.
I swallow past the lump in my throat and whisper, “Thank you.”
Pupils resembling carved jade peppered with emeralds, his gaze wraps me with comforting warmth. “You don’t need to thank me. Why don’t you head upstairs, and I’ll get back to work.” His hands come to rest on my shoulders. “If you need anything, I’ll be here.” I nod my agreement and he turns me around. Five steps later, I’m in the elevator pushing the button for my floor. Our eyes stay connected until the double doors come together.
Gasping, I drag in a deep breath. And then another. The comfort I experienced with Adam has dissipated and all that remains is uncertainty. Seeing a new side of him, a deeper, more caring side, has shaken me. While I’m grateful for his help, I don’t want any more reasons to be attracted to him.
16
Adam
“Hi.” I smile at the receptionist. “Is Roxanne around?”
“She is. Who should I say is looking for her?”
“I’m Adam.”
“Okay, Adam. I’ll be right back.” She disappears around a corner, and I tak
e in the decor while I wait. A navy blue loveseat and two small floral patterned chairs are set around a small coffee table. Neat stacks of magazines align across the top.
I’ve never been one to get nervous around women. I’ve always taken the attitude that if someone doesn’t like me, there are plenty of other women who will. But as I wait for Roxanne, my stomach stirs uneasily.
What if she’s not happy to see me? She barely tolerates me on a good day, and this morning was a disaster for her. Buried underneath her disdain I know she’s attracted to me. The kiss we shared proved so, and I’m hoping that’s enough for now.
Rocky appears and my lips automatically curve upward. Hair up in a ponytail, face free of makeup streaks, and her blouse dry, she looks as fantastic as ever. If I hadn't witnessed what a mess she was earlier, I’d have never suspected anything was amiss.
“What’s up?” she asks, all business, and my smile grows. There’s the ball-busting girl I’m used to.
“It’s still raining. I thought after this morning you might not want to go grab lunch. So I brought lunch to you.”
I see a flicker of surprise before it’s masked. “I didn’t expect this.” I hand the paper bag to her and she peers inside. “You got me an oriental salad? How did you know what I like?”
“I noticed you were eating salad yesterday.” I shrug. “I figured with the nearby location, the cafe was someplace you frequented. When I ordered, I explained it was for you and asked which was your favorite.”
“This is a really nice surprise.” She holds up the bag between us.
“Well, I’ve got one more for you.” Drawing my other hand forward, I hold out the umbrella I bought for her. “You’ll need this when you leave. The forecast calls for rain through the night.”
Both her eyebrows jump upward and her mouth opens and closes. Baffled and awkwardly struggling for words, her hand closes around the umbrella.
“This one seems sturdy,” I tell her.
“Thank you, again. I don’t know what to say.”
