What the hell?
Addison squeezed her eyes shut, feeling not only surprised by the image but a bit battered, and she willed it away as best she could. A hand on her back pulled her attention around and she looked into the blue eyes of her sister, so much like her own.
“Hey, you okay?” Katrina asked as she handed Addison her coat.
“Yeah. Totally.” She answered too quickly, could hear it in her own voice.
“You sure?”
Addison took her coat, slid an arm in. “I am. Promise.” Her stomach had begun to make its dissatisfaction known about a half hour earlier, and she was anxious to get home. Good-byes were tossed around the room, and a few moments later, she was in her car and pulling away from Scartelli’s.
Thank God.
But instead of feeling better once she got home, Addison found herself bombarded by frustration. She was frustrated at her mother for not making a decision about who would take her seat at the head of Fairchild Enterprises. Addison was the eldest, so it made sense it would be her. But Meredith Fairchild liked to surprise people and often did so by bucking tradition. So while it really was anybody’s guess, Addison had been working her ass off for the past year. Longer, even. She’d forgone vacations, long weekends, relationships. Everything had taken a back seat to her job. Even her health was taking a beating. She told herself that once she took over for her mother, she’d take a breath. Relax the smallest bit and do more delegating—none of which would end up actually happening, of course, and she knew it. She was frustrated with her health for limiting her abilities and her energy and causing her near-constant pain.
What surprised her most, though, was her frustration with Katie. Which made no sense. What in the world did she have to be frustrated about? Katie was there to help her. That was her only purpose. And when Addison could get out of her own way long enough to actually let Katie help, it was worth it. So this odd wave of annoyance, of irritation she suddenly felt around her assistant was confusing.
“Seriously,” she whispered aloud in the empty bathroom, having decided a hot shower might feel good right then. “Why in the world should I be frustrated with her?” she asked her reflection in the mirror as she pulled her hair up. Weirdly, her reflection wouldn’t look her in the eye.
Chapter Ten
Katie was so tired.
No. Not just tired. Tired was too simple a word. Too general. Too vague. No, Katie was body-numbing, bone-deep, could barely move her limbs exhausted. Her eyelids were surely lined with sandpaper. The kind with the large grit. Her brain was running at less than half speed, or so it felt. Yawns cranked her mouth open at alarmingly regular intervals.
As she pulled into a parking spot at Fairchild Rentals, she squinted, racking her brain to recall if she’d changed Simon out of the sweatshirt he’d dribbled strawberry jam on before she put him on the bus. She knew she’d meant to but could find no memory in her head of actually having done it. “Damn it,” she muttered, as she slid the gearshift into Park.
It had been a very bad night that had led into a very bad morning, which Katie was now expecting to turn into a very bad day. It was only logical. And it was how her luck seemed to be running lately.
Even the weather agreed, the sky a weird combination of silver, gray, and almost-black that might have looked classy as part of an outfit of some kind but was just ominous as a ceiling to her world. She had to make two attempts at hauling herself out of her car before she succeeded. Thunder rumbled through the clouds as she grabbed her computer bag and her purse, and the sky opened up just as she slammed the door closed. The drops of rain—which would most likely freeze in short order—were so big they felt like pellets falling on her head as she jogged toward the front door and let herself in with an exhalation of sheer relief.
Janie had a candle burning on her desk, and though Katie couldn’t see the label, she could smell the cinnamon / apple combination and it made her stomach growl loudly. Janie looked up with a grin.
“Miss lunch?” she asked pointedly.
Katie grimaced. “Now that you mention it, I did.” The truth was, her stomach had been churning sourly since last night when her father’s irrational anger had gotten so out of control, he’d tipped the kitchen table over, breaking dishes and scattering food all over the floor.
“I have half a turkey sandwich left over from mine,” Janie offered helpfully. “You’re welcome to it.”
Katie was touched, truly. “You’re very sweet. Thank you, but I’m going to pass. Stomach’s a little off today.”
Janie gave a nod. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
“I will.” Katie smiled her thanks and headed in the direction of Addison’s office. She felt oddly different today as she made her approach. After last week’s time of dressing casually and working on the couch together, Katie felt like they’d finally settled into a comfortable rapport. Addison seemed more relaxed, like she’d let go of some of her usual…uptightness, for lack of a better word. She talked more, she listened more, and she smiled more.
This was becoming a thing, Katie finding herself actually looking forward to spending the next few hours with Addison Fairchild. A nice thing. A thing she liked. The other thing she liked? Addison was healing. She looked much less tired. She actually smiled every now and then, which made her so much more fun to look at that Katie found herself having to be careful of staring.
Katie slowed her walk when she found herself within earshot of the office. She couldn’t see in, as the blinds were closed, but Addison was on the phone and Katie enjoyed the sound of her voice. It had a lower timbre than one would expect from looking at her feminine appearance. Not husky. Not gravelly. Just…low. And rather sexy, if Katie was being honest with herself.
Yeah, enough of that. No lusting after your sort-of boss, Cooper. Not cool.
Katie’s excitement to see Addison was short-lived, though. The second she walked into the office, she could tell things had shifted. Addison barely glanced up at her, and when she did, there was no smile, not even in her eyes. She lifted her chin in acknowledgment, but that was about it.
Stifling a sigh of disappointment, Katie took up her station at the small round table and unloaded her things. Why was she surprised? Why didn’t she allow for the disappointment? She’d known this morning that the day would simply be a continuation of last night and early this morning when her father refused to get out of bed. She hated leaving her mother to deal with the stress all by herself, but she’d insisted Katie go to work. The boys needed her.
More disappointed than she cared to admit, she resigned herself to just getting through the day as best she could. Katie shed her coat…and groaned. There on her light blue shirt, right around her rib cage, was a bright red stain of strawberry jam. Right. She was supposed to change Simon’s shirt and her own.
“Son of a bitch,” she muttered, pulling the fabric away from her body to assess the damage. She should at least try some cold water, see if she could dilute the jam a bit. Otherwise, that stain was never coming out.
When she looked up, Addison was watching her with a hooded expression on her face that made Katie’s stomach flip. Then she was yanked back into her phone call, blinking rapidly and verbally sparring with whoever was on the other end of the line. The spell broken, Katie headed for the ladies’ room.
Yeah, what a great fucking day.
* * *
Monday was not Addison’s favorite day of the week—really, was it anybody’s?—but that Monday in particular felt…so many things. Annoying. Tiring. Stressful. And a little cruel.
She watched Katie leave the office, shaking her head in obvious irritation over the stain on her shirt, watched the gentle sway of her hips, the way her dark hair fell forward as she bent to get a closer look at the mess. Absently, she listened to the office manager at one of her complexes, but mostly, her attention was on Katie.
There was a part of Addison that wished they were back in her loft. Things had been different there.
Felt different. More relaxed and comfortable. Less tense and stressful. And she knew why, she’d known why for several days now.
She liked Katie.
She liked her.
And that could be a problem. For so many reasons, it could end up a very big problem.
Addison hadn’t been with a woman in a long time. She couldn’t remember exactly how long, mostly because she’d stopped keeping track—way too depressing. Throwing herself into her work had seemed to be the best solution, the best way to keep her focused on other things. And it had worked. She’d accomplished so much in the past couple of years and she was proud of it. All her hard work would hopefully pay off in a matter of weeks when her mother announced that she would take over as CEO of Fairchild Enterprises.
Yep. It would all be worth it.
Thinking of her mother, of course, was just another reminder of why Addison needed to get any improper thoughts of Katie Cooper out of her head. Meredith would never stand for something like that. And frankly, after her vehemence in firing Kyle Bannon’s girlfriend, Addison had zero legs to stand on when it came to fraternizing with an employee.
This entire train of thought was silly anyway, because who said Katie even felt the same way? What made Addison think that, in different circumstances, different lives, different worlds, Katie would even give her the time of day? This whole thing was based on assumption and, honestly, physical attraction. Addison couldn’t let herself get derailed by such trivial things.
As if on cue, Katie returned, the stain lighter, but still there and now accentuated by a wet circle of darker blue around the red. Her dark brows met in a V at the top of her nose, and when she sat down at the round table, she let out an exhalation of subtle exasperation. It was kind of cute.
No! No, it’s not cute! Nothing about Katie Cooper is cute! Or pretty. Or sexy. Or appealing in any way! Just no.
Addison closed her eyes and scratched at the side of her neck as her office manager continued to blather away on the phone. She’d moved on from snow removal preparation to the need to find a new company to contract the repair of appliances. Addison listened, said, “uh-huh,” when it was appropriate, and studied her fingernails, the surface of her desk, her keyboard—when had that gotten so dirty?—anything to keep her focus from the woman across the office.
It took nearly another ten minutes before Addison was able to extricate herself from the phone call, and she’d noticed thirteen emails had come in while she’d been on it. With a loud sigh, she opened the first one, read, and began typing. She got through an entire sentence before she could feel eyes on her.
When she looked up, Katie was staring at her. Their gazes held for a beat before Katie finally said, “Hi.” Somehow, she was able to fit irritation, a little anger, and even some hurt into that one tiny word. Addison felt the guilt surge up and heat her cheeks.
With a clear of her throat, she said, “Hello, Katie. How are you?”
“Just dandy,” Katie responded, and her sarcasm hung in the office like a layer of gray fog.
Addison gave a nod, torn between asking Katie if she was okay—which, of course, could lead to a big, in-depth, personal conversation that would totally defeat the purpose of staying distant and aloof—and simply going on with her work. The ringing of the phone saved her from having to choose, and she picked it up. “Addison Fairchild.”
Katie continued to stare at her. Addison could feel it, and it took every ounce of energy she had not to look up and be snagged by those rich brown eyes. She knew if she did, there was a very good chance of her becoming lost, saying something she shouldn’t. Worse, doing something she couldn’t. It was a weird feeling, that moment, and Addison wasn’t sure what to do with it. She swallowed hard, and when the phone call ended, she pretended it hadn’t for an extra minute or two so she could gather her thoughts and calm the blood in her veins that felt suddenly hot. Too hot. Racing through her body at warp speed.
She cleared her throat a second time, and that got under her skin. Clearing your throat told people you were nervous, uncertain, weak, and Addison hated that. She let the annoyance of it take over, and that came through in her tone of voice. She was sure of it.
“I’ve emailed you details on a couple calls you can make for me. I also need some things from Office Max. You can take my—” She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence because Katie stood up, crossed the office, and shut the door. She moved so she was standing in front of Addison’s desk, determination in the few steps she’d taken. Hands parked on her hips, she tilted her head to one side and those brown eyes flashed with…something Addison couldn’t put a finger on. Anger? Yes, absolutely. Confusion? Maybe some. And…no. Addison mentally shook her head. Not going on to the other thing. Not going there.
“What are you doing?” Katie asked. Her voice was quiet, but the tone was serious, sharply focused.
Addison swallowed. “I’m sorry?”
“What are you doing?” Katie repeated, one hand out, palm up. “I thought we’d ironed things out last week. I thought we’d put the stoically professional, bitch-on-wheels persona to rest, at least with me. What the hell happened?”
“I don’t—”
But Katie wasn’t done. “Last week? You were a person. An actual, warm-blooded human who talked to me and listened to my suggestions and smiled at me and looked at me. Today? It takes me three minutes to realize you’re back to being a robot.”
A robot? Ouch. Addison opened her mouth, but Katie pushed on.
“One day, you’re amazing. The next, you can’t even look at me. One day, you’re not only my boss, but you feel like my friend. The next, you treat me like an unwanted intern. Sometimes, I wonder if we could maybe have something beyond our jobs. Others, I wonder how I ever could’ve even thought that. It’s like you have a fucking split personality around me. What is the deal with you, Addison? Because I don’t get it.”
Addison went still as Katie’s words sank in. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to bite back, which she knew from experience she could do quickly, before Katie even realized it. She wanted to remind her personal assistant who ran this company, who wasn’t about to stand for a subordinate speaking to her like that.
But she couldn’t do any of those things because right then, right in that very moment, Katie was more beautiful than anybody Addison had ever laid eyes on. She was poised. Her confusion had caused dots of pink to form on her cheeks, making her look flushed, as if she’d just run a race. She hadn’t raised her voice at all, and aside from dropping the one F-bomb, her anger had remained almost…cool.
It was her eyes, though. Her eyes, the color of melted chocolate chips, weren’t angry. They weren’t flashing any longer and they didn’t match her posture or her tone of voice. Her eyes were pleading, but they were also something else. Her eyes carried pain, but they also carried something else.
Addison had no choice.
No choice. No control.
She pushed her chair back and stood, her eyes riveted to Katie’s. In six quick steps, she was around the desk, and when she reached Katie, she didn’t stop to think. She didn’t even stop walking. There was no hesitation, no tentative internal discussion. She simply took Katie’s face in both hands as she walked her backward until the small of Katie’s back hit the round table and forced them to remain where they were. Katie’s hands grasped Addison’s forearms as they stood that way, barely two inches between their bodies.
Addison searched Katie’s eyes, found surprise, but no fear. No hesitation. But desire? Oh, she found that. She found piles and piles of that, and it was all she needed to see.
Addison’s gaze dropped to Katie’s mouth. Her lips were parted in surprise, the bottom one full, both shining with gloss and temptation and promise.
No choice. No control.
“God, Katie.” It escaped Addison’s lips on a whisper just before she brought her mouth down to Katie’s and kissed her.
The world around them dissolved. The office, the ringing phone, t
he pinging email announcements, the soft hum of conversation outside the closed door…all of it faded from existence. There was only now, this moment, this kiss, and Addison let herself melt into it; she could do nothing else. The softness of Katie’s lips beneath hers, the taste of watermelon lip gloss, the tiniest touch of Katie’s tongue, it all kept Addison rooted to her spot, kept her hands holding Katie’s face—gently, but unwilling to let go just yet. It was as if their mouths were made for exactly this activity, for kissing only each other. Addison’s knees felt rubbery and her heart hammered in her chest as a surge of pleasure hit her low in her body. God, had she ever had a kiss this good? This exciting? This much of a turn-on? The warm wet of it, the softness, the arousal. She shifted her head, moved to the left now, and doubled down, deepening the kiss more when she felt Katie’s mouth open underneath hers, and she pushed her tongue inside. She reveled in the small whimper that came from Katie’s throat, in the feeling of Katie’s hands—one tightened its grip on Addison’s forearm, the other let go and moved to Addison’s waist, pulling her in closer.
I could get lost in this kiss.
The thought echoed through Addison’s head and she almost laughed because the reality was, she was lost in that kiss. Already. Totally, utterly, completely lost, and she was okay with that. Better than okay. She never wanted to come up for air. She wanted to stay right there, just like that, with her body pressed against Katie’s, her hands in Katie’s hair, her tongue in Katie’s mouth, for all eternity.
The jarring knock on the door was like a plot device from a ’90s rom com, and both Addison and Katie jumped apart, literally.
Katie’s eyes were wide, her lips were swollen, and her cheeks were flushed as she brought her hand up to her mouth. Addison suspected their expressions mirrored each other’s. She took another step backward, brought her own fingers to her lips as the full weight of what they’d just done settled on her, and she swallowed hard.
Calendar Girl Page 12
