“I didn’t tell them.”
“Oh, really? Then how did they know? I don’t recall them being in your room observing.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Lissa, a brass band could have marched through my room that night and you wouldn’t have noticed.”
Heat swept up her throat, over her face. “The point is, it’s over. There’s nothing to be gained by dissecting what happened.” Though at the time I’d have liked to dissect you. “I believe, before we got sidetracked a few minutes ago, that you were asking why I need a second job. Right now my budget’s unusually tight, so—”
“Couldn’t you make more at some other kind of job, instead of working at the union?”
“Possibly. But waiting tables isn’t a bad income, really. Most of our clients are alumni, and the tips are usually generous. Besides, the hours are flexible, and I don’t have to waste any time commuting. I can work an hour here and there and fit partial shifts in between classes. If I had to go all the way across town to a job I wouldn’t make any more, even if I got a higher rate of pay for each hour I worked.”
“Because it would take so long to get there, especially since you don’t have a car. I see. Still, I wouldn’t think you’d have gotten in over your head financially, wizard with figures that you are.”
“It’s hard to pay tuition and medical bills at the same time. Pneumonia’s not cheap, and I didn’t have any health insurance after my dad died.”
“Perhaps some financial planning advice—”
“There you go, problem-solving again. I’m sure your banker would be tickled pink to handle my portfolio, because I’ve usually got about fifty bucks to my name.” She was irritated enough not to stop and think before she went on. “I’d saved up enough to get through a couple of weeks with no income—but then I was robbed last night.”
His eyebrows went up. “Are you all right?”
“Oh, yes—thanks for asking. I wasn’t held up at gunpoint or anything. I’d left my extra funds in my room—only I obviously didn’t pick a good enough hiding spot.” She knew she sounded bitter, and probably stupid, too. She waited for him to say it.
He didn’t. “Did you call the police?”
“No. It wouldn’t do much good. It was cash, and there’s no way to prove that any specific twenty-dollar bill was mine once. Besides, if I’m right about my suspicions, and the thief is someone else who lives in the house—”
“You think your roommate robbed you?”
Why had she told him anything at all? Of course it had seemed safe, because he’d never been known for tenacity back in their college days. Quite the opposite, in fact—at least when it came to studying. But now he seemed to be like a bulldog with a bone, and it was too late to back out without explanation. “We’re not what you’d call roommates,” Lissa said reluctantly. “Or even housemates, for that matter. It’s more like a boarding house. Seven individual bedrooms, shared kitchen and bath. Reporting it would only make things more difficult in the future. Nothing would be safe.”
He nodded. “You always were pragmatic.”
“You don’t have to make it sound like a disease. In some situations there aren’t any good choices, Kurt. You just deal with it and go on, that’s all.”
He didn’t answer, but he pushed his apple pie away as if he’d lost his appetite.
Puzzled at the response, Lissa went on. “Anyway, to get back to the point—your grandmother got that much out of me and then she went all quiet. The next thing I knew—”
“She’d manufactured a job for you.”
“You mean she made it up from nothing? I don’t think so. If she’s going to move out of that house, she really does need help. There must be closets everywhere. Unless you’re planning to stick around to pack boxes…?”
Kurt gave a little shiver.
Lissa went on coolly, “Yeah, what a surprise. You’re too busy, right?”
“I’ll hire a crew.”
“She doesn’t want a crew, she wants me.”
“Maybe she thinks she does—right now.”
“And what does that mean? If you’re threatening to discredit me by telling her what happened between us all those years ago I suggest you think again, because you won’t exactly come off as Mr. Pure of Heart yourself. Anyway, someone will have to do the work, so why shouldn’t it be me?”
“How long do you think it will take?”
“I have two weeks free until school starts up again.”
“Surely you don’t think that job can be done in two weeks? And if you start dragging things out of dark closets and then abandon her—”
“Hello? What was that you were telling your grandmother earlier about not being able to have things both ways? Neither can you, fella. At any rate, I figure within two weeks Hannah will either have decided that she’s too fond of her house to leave it, or she’ll have gotten tired of sorting and decided to call an auctioneer and get it over with in a hurry.”
He stared at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. “So in the meantime you’re just going to let her pay you for humoring her?”
“I intend to do whatever she asks me to. You know, it might not be a bad plan for you to follow, too. Humoring her, I mean, instead of arguing with her all the time.” And maybe you could see your way clear to cutting me a little slack, too. She’d probably better not hold her breath, though.
She looked at her watch. “I don’t mean to rush you, Kurt, but I have things to do. And, since your hair hasn’t turned white yet, I’m going to assume I passed the driving test.”
“We’re not all the way home yet. And I’m in no hurry to get back in that car. I felt like I was riding around in a tomato soup can.”
“Well, it’s not my fault that your grandmother drives a compact. If you’re used to the Jaguar I saw parked outside the house—”
“Don’t even daydream about driving my car. Buy her some new tires first thing, all right? Give me the bill for them.” He stood up and pulled out his wallet.
Lissa sat very still, her tea mug clutched between her hands. “Then you’re withdrawing your objections?”
“No. But since she seems set on the idea, I’m putting my objections on hold.”
At least he wasn’t still threatening her. Quite sensible of him, she thought. “Fair enough.” Once back in the car, she turned on the radio and hummed along with Christmas carols as she drove. She thought Kurt was looking even more like an approaching rainstorm. “What’s the matter?” she asked finally. “You don’t like ‘Jingle Bells’?”
“Not when it’s played on accordion and banjo, thanks. Where did you find that station?”
“I didn’t choose it, it was already tuned in. Why doesn’t your grandmother have a Christmas tree?”
“Tradition. It goes up one week before Christmas.”
Lissa calculated. “That’s tomorrow.”
“Enjoy the job,” Kurt said. “I’d help, but I’ll be at the grand opening of my new Twin Cities store.”
“Oh, that’s what’s keeping you here.” Lissa parked the car right behind the Jaguar, under the porte cochere.
“The grand opening runs through the weekend.” Kurt walked around to her side and opened her door. “Aren’t you coming in?”
“No, I’m just dropping you off.”
“Wait a minute. You’re taking Gran’s car? Do the words grand theft auto mean anything to you?”
She looked out over the dull red finish on the car’s hood. “Not grand theft, surely? Now, if I was taking your car, then I could understand you saying—” He started to growl, and Lissa thought better of pursuing the argument. “She told me I could.”
“You’re planning to commute using Gran’s car? And what other employee benefits have you talked her into providing?”
“Not to commute, exactly.” Her gloved hands tightened on the wheel, and she looked up at him through her lashes, waiting to enjoy the explosion she expected. “I’m just taking it today so I can l
oad up my stuff.” She paused for just a second to let the news sink in, then added gently, “And of course I need to talk to my landlady as well—to give notice that I’m moving in with Hannah.”
And before he could open his mouth Lissa put the car in reverse and backed out into the street.
The sense of freedom was incredible. Traffic on the outbound streets was a disaster, but nobody was trying to get downtown this late in the day, and the little car buzzed along easily. For the first time in years Lissa wasn’t simply enduring Christmas carols, she was enjoying them. With the dim prospect of two weeks of living on macaroni and noodles now erased from her calendar, life was definitely looking up.
Of course there was the little matter of Kurt Callahan lurking in the background. But once his grand opening was past he’d be going home, and that interference would be gone as well. With him out of the way her peace of mind would be restored, and she and Hannah could get down to some serious digging and sorting…for a while, at least.
The nerve of the man, threatening to tell Hannah what had happened between them all those years ago. Of course he wouldn’t actually do it, because he’d be the one who ended up looking bad. Still….
Lissa had thought she was long over the sting of the single evening she’d spent with him. Even in the cloakroom last night she hadn’t entirely lost her perspective. But that had been before she’d had to deal with him on such a personal level, and now all the feelings had come flashing back: the frustration and the anger, the hurt, the desolation and—yes, the attraction too. Because he had been attractive, even to a frump of a freshman who’d known perfectly well that he was far beyond her sphere. A dumb frump of a freshman, Lissa reminded herself, who had bought the tale of his needing tutoring—which had certainly been true, as far as it went—and who had gotten in way over her head. And only when it had been too late had she found out that the whole thing had been the result of a bet, with the entire class in on it. That the single night which had been so magical to her had meant less than nothing to him.
You dropped out of that calculus class, too, he’d said.
Well, he was almost right. She’d stuck it out for a while, hoping it would all blow over and everybody would forget that stupid bet. But though the professor had kept order in the classroom, the teasing before and after class hadn’t ceased. After a while she’d made herself so sick over it that she’d skipped the rest of the lectures and turned in her work at the professor’s office. Only the fact that she was such a promising student had kept her from finishing up with a failing grade.
Just one more thing that Kurt Callahan was responsible for….
The steps up to the front of the boarding house were still buried in eight inches of snow, though a couple of trails had been broken by people going in and out. Lissa picked her way carefully up to the porch and let herself into the hallway. The landlady was standing outside the room which had originally been the front parlor, arguing with the tenant who was supposed to pay part of his rent by shoveling the walks.
Lissa unlocked her own door, then cleared her throat.
The landlady turned her head. “What do you want?”
Lissa debated. It wasn’t smart to announce that her room would be unoccupied for a while—but she couldn’t simply disappear for two weeks without letting the landlady know, either. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m going away for a while.”
The woman looked at her suspiciously. “How long a while? You going to pay for January in advance?”
Lissa couldn’t pay in advance if she wanted to. Not on the proceeds of last night’s tips. “I’ll pay for January when January comes,” she said firmly. “Just as I do every month.”
The front door opened again, and she saw the landlady’s eyes widen as she spotted the newcomer. Lissa looked around to see who had come in, and her heart sank.
CHAPTER THREE
KURT STAMPED HIS feet on the doormat and cast a long look around the dim hallway of the boarding house. The wallpaper was peeling, the glass in the door rattled as he closed it, the floorboards creaked under his feet, and the air smelled of burned popcorn.
Lissa looked over her shoulder. “Fancy meeting you here. I suppose Hannah gave you the address?”
“She sent me over to help so you’d be finished moving in time for dinner.”
The landlady stopped yelling and bustled over. “Did you say you’re moving?”
“I’m not giving up the room,” Lissa said. “I’m just picking up the stuff I’ll need for a couple of weeks.”
The landlady folded her arms across her ample chest. “If you want me to hold the room, you’ll have to pay ahead of time for January. Otherwise, how do I know you’ll come back?”
Kurt stepped between them. ”You trust her—the same way she trusts you not to put the rest of her stuff out on the curb the minute her back is turned.”
The landlady gave him the same stare she would a bedbug and went on, “And don’t expect me to return your deposit if you do give up the room, because there’s a hole in the wall.” She returned to the front parlor and went back to haranguing the other tenant.
“Home sweet home,” Lissa said. “The hole in the wall was there when I moved in.”
Honestly curious, Kurt asked, “Why do you put up with this?”
“Because it isn’t for much longer, and because living cheaply now means I won’t have so much debt to pay after I get my degree.”
“But you can’t want to come back here, after you were robbed.”
“Well, that’s rather beside the point, isn’t it?” Lissa pushed a door open. The sliding panel squeaked and stuck, and she gave it an extra shove.
In some situations there aren’t any good choices, she had said. You deal with it and go on.
It was starting to look to him like she was an expert at dealing with things and going on. Nursing a sick father, getting pneumonia herself….
She’d had a streak of hard luck, there was no doubt about that, but he couldn’t help but wonder if there was even more to the story than she’d told him.
Kurt followed her in. She flipped on every light in the place—such as they were. How she managed to get dressed in this gloom, much less read or study, was beyond him.
His gaze came to rest on the mantel, where a little Christmas tree stood bravely in the center, drooping under the weight of five too-big ornaments.
Damn. He didn’t want to feel sorry for her…but he did.
“You pack,” he said. “I’ll carry.”
The trouble was, Lissa had no idea what to pack. Clothes weren’t a problem—her wardrobe was limited, so she figured she’d just pile everything into a crate and take it along. It was all the other things she wasn’t sure about.
All the other things. What an all-encompassing, grandiose statement that was, Lissa told herself, considering how few material goods she actually possessed. Everything she owned would fit in the back of a minivan with room to spare.
Kurt came back from his third trip out to the car and raised an eyebrow at the half-empty crate Lissa was contemplating. “What’s the holdup?”
“I’m trying to decide what else to take.”
He looked around, as if he had no idea what she could be talking about.
She had to give him a little credit, though—Kurt hadn’t said a single disparaging word about her surroundings, her belongings, or the fact that her luggage consisted of plastic crates and not the monogrammed leather bags his crowd probably carried.
“Besides clothes, what could you possibly need?”
“Books, maybe. I wonder if I’ll have time to start studying for my spring classes.”
“Those would be the classes that won’t start until January? You already have the books?”
“Some of them. Picking up one or two at a time is easier on the wallet than buying them all at once.”
He looked startled, as if he’d never thought of that before.
His expression made it perfectly obvious, Liss
a thought, that budgeting for textbooks had never been a problem for Kurt Callahan. “It’s sort of like putting money in the bank,” she said. “Buying what you need ahead of time, I mean.”
“So if you had invested all your cash in math books rather than just leaving it lying around, you wouldn’t be in this spot.”
“It wasn’t lying around, it was hidden.” Just not well enough. “And if I’d bought all my books with it I’d still have had a problem—namely, what I was going to eat for the next two weeks.”
“Speaking of eating,” Kurt suggested, “Janet promised prime rib for dinner, and I like mine rare. So can we hurry this project along?”
Lissa’s stomach growled at the mere suggestion of rare prime rib. Or, for that matter, medium or well-done prime rib; it didn’t matter, because it all sounded the same to her. Delicious, in a word.
“Just grab everything you might need, and let’s go.”
“Everything?” she said doubtfully.
“Sure. That’s really what’s bothering you, isn’t it? You’re wondering if the vandals around here will pop in to inspect whatever you’ve left behind and destroy it if it isn’t of any value to them.”
She couldn’t argue with that, since it was exactly what she’d been thinking. It was the reason she’d hesitated to tell the landlady that she’d be gone at all. If word got around that she wouldn’t be back for a couple of weeks she might as well leave the door standing wide open.
Still, her pride was nicked at the idea of dragging out the detritus of her life in front of him.
In front of anyone, she corrected herself. It wasn’t specifically Kurt she was sensitive about. She didn’t like letting anyone see the pathetically few sentimental things that remained to her.
Kurt strolled over to the mantel and picked up a textbook from the political science class she’d just finished. “What are you taking next semester?”
He was actually trying to make things easier for her—making conversation to cover her discomfort. If she had half a brain, Lissa thought, she’d be grateful. Instead, she was unreasonably annoyed—as if he’d come right out and said that he realized she had reason to be embarrassed, so he would do the proper etiquette thing and pretend not to notice. As if etiquette and good behavior were a big consideration with him!
The Tycoon's Proposal Page 4
