“Not good.”
“I’m sorry to hear that—Biff, this is Jed. Jed Walsh, Biff Townley.” She turned and blasted a giant, threatening smile at Jed.
Biff’s hand came out. “So great to meet you. I heard you’d moved back to town. I love your books.”
“Thanks.” Jed had not risen. His face had that Mount Rushmore look: carved in stone. He did give a nod, but made no move to take Biff’s offered hand.
After several painful seconds, Biff gave it up and lowered his arm. “Ahem, Elise, I wonder if I might have a minute alone?”
“Of course,” she said pleasantly. And then she turned to Jed again. “I’ll be right back.”
“All right.” He spoke without inflection. Then he looked straight at Biff. “I’ll be waiting.” Somehow, he made that sound like a warning.
Biff actually flinched. “Er, great to meet you.”
Jed didn’t even nod that time.
Elise brushed Biff’s arm. “Come on out to the terrace.” She glanced back at Jed as she hustled Biff toward the wide steps that led outside. Jed was watching her walk away, his gaze brooding and dark.
“I think your boyfriend hates me,” Biff said once they were out on the terrace beneath the tall trees.
Elise perched on the rock wall that defined the giant circular stone space. She was about to pretend Jed’s reaction was nothing. But that seemed wrong, somehow. Biff had treated her shoddily and she’d never had the guts to confront him about it. Jed did have the guts.
And she was with Jed now. If he could tell the truth, well, so could she. “Jed is protective of me. I told him about the money I lent you that you never paid back.”
Now Biff looked crushed. “I couldn’t pay you back. You know that.”
“No, Biff, I don’t. Not really. Are you telling me that when you borrowed that eight thousand dollars from me, you actually believed you were going to repay it?”
Biff raked his fingers back through his hair. “Look, Elise. I just wanted to say that I’ve missed you, okay? I miss hanging out now and then. I miss that I could always count on you, on your level head and good advice, on the great dinners you would cook to make me feel better when my life was going all to hell.”
Elise carefully smoothed her silk skirt. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Well, I—I wanted to pay you back. Of course I did.”
“When will you pay me back, Biff?”
He stared off toward a granite peak far in the distance. “Seriously? You want to get into this now, at your brother’s wedding?”
“No time is a good time when you don’t pay your debts.” From where she sat, she could see the archway to the banquet room. Jed came through it. She met those green eyes and gave a slight shake of her head. He took her cue that she didn’t need him—not yet, anyway. Moving to a tree-shaded spot on the outer edge of the archway, he waited.
And she knew why. Because she was his woman and he took care of what was his.
Her heart seemed to expand in her chest and great tenderness flooded her. Elise had known she was falling for him, and that she kept falling deeper. But it was not until that moment, when he came out on the terrace just in case she might need him, that she realized she had fallen all the way.
She loved Jed Walsh.
Chapter Nine
“I didn’t come out here to be insulted,” Biff huffed.
Elise hardly heard him. She was much too busy dealing with what had just happened in her heart.
I love him. I love Jed.
It was real. It was true. It was the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to her.
“Did you hear a word I just said?” Biff demanded.
“Not really.” Elise kept her eyes on the big man standing in the sun-dappled shadows by the door to the banquet room. “I don’t think we have much more to say to each other as of now, Biff. You have my cell number. Come up with a payment plan and give me a call.”
“But I just told you—”
“You take care now.” With a wave of her hand, she dismissed him. As she started toward Jed, he left his spot by the door and came for her. They met in the middle of the terrace. She needed to touch him, so she reached up and smoothed the lapel of his jacket.
He caught her hand. “I hope you put the dirtbag in his place.”
“I think I did. More or less.” She gave a half shrug. Biff Townley hardly mattered, not when every fiber of her being was vibrating with sheer happiness. Music had started up in the banquet room. “Will you dance with me, Jed?”
He kissed the tops of her knuckles and her heart felt bigger, her knees weaker in the sweetest sort of way. “Never was much of a dancer.”
“Does that mean yes or no?”
“You want to dance with me, you got it.” He wrapped her hand around his arm and led her back beneath the archway to where the music played.
* * *
That night, she told him she loved him—or rather, she shouted it good and loud as he pulsed inside her. A little later, when he turned off the lamp, held her close and stroked her hair, she wondered if it could be possible that he hadn’t really noticed her yelling, “Oh, Jed, I love you!” minutes before.
He didn’t say anything about it.
And she didn’t ask. Let him chalk it up to one of those things a woman says in the heat of passion. She did love him, yes. With all of her heart. But she wasn’t really ready to talk about what that might mean yet.
* * *
Monday morning, just as they were sitting down to a breakfast of poached eggs, toast and cantaloupe wedges, Jed’s publicist called.
“It’s official. A week from Friday, I’m on NY at Night,” Jed said when he hung up the phone. “We’ll fly in Thursday, returning Sunday.”
Elise kind of wondered if she’d heard him right. “You’re serious? You’re going to meet Drew Golden and be on NY at Night?”
Wearing a look of great boredom, he sipped his coffee. “Isn’t that what I just said? And it’s damned inconvenient if you ask me. I hate a break in my rhythm when things are moving right along.”
She chuckled at that. “You hate a break in your rhythm anytime and you know it.”
“True. But it’s a big freaking deal to get a spot on Golden’s show, just ask my agent.”
“Well, I have to say that I’m thoroughly impressed.”
He drank more coffee, watching her face as he sipped and swallowed, his eyes low and lazy. “Hmm. I like you impressed, all pink-cheeked and adoring.”
She spread jam on her toast. “Adoring might be carrying it a bit far.”
“Maybe I should take you back to bed. You can show me just how impressed you are with me and my many accomplishments.”
Okay, the plain fact was she did adore him and she would love nothing so much as to go straight back to bed with him. But then again, it was a lot of fun to give him a bad time. “I never said I was impressed with you, exactly.”
He ate some cantaloupe. “But you are. Thoroughly. I’m an impressive guy.”
“Egotistical much? And what’s this we? I take it you think that I’m going with you to New York.”
“Because you are going with me.”
She was thrilled that she was going and she loved him more than life itself. But sometimes he needed reminding that he didn’t actually rule the world. “I don’t recall your inviting me.”
“Ah. You need a special invitation, do you?”
“Yes, I do. Remember Carter’s wedding?”
“As though I could forget. It was two days ago.”
“I’m referring to how you insisted that I had to ask you to go with me.”
“That was only right.”
“Well then you should have no problem understanding how I mi
ght want you to ask me if would like to go to New York with you.”
“You’re my assistant. It’s your job to be where I need you.” He said it in that low, rough voice that sent little flares of excitement pulsing in her most secret places.
Still, she didn’t give in. “So you’re planning to write while you’re there?”
“I just might.”
“But you said we would be flying back on Sunday and Sunday is my day off.”
He frowned. “Wait a minute. Are you saying that you really don’t want to go?” He looked marginally worried.
And her heart melted. “Let me lay it out for you. I’m giving you grief because you just assumed I would do whatever you wanted me to.”
“But you are coming with me?”
For such a brilliant man, he could be dense as a post. She said nothing, just gave him a moment to figure it out.
Finally, he did. “Elise.”
“Yes, Jed?”
“Will you please go with me to New York next week?”
“Why, Jed. How lovely of you to ask. I would be delighted to go.”
For that, she got one of his rare half smiles. “Excellent—and I still think I need to take you back to bed.”
“What for?”
He set down his spoon, pushed back his chair and came for her, scooping her up in his arms the way he loved to do. “Come on upstairs. I’ll show you.”
And he did, to their mutual delight.
* * *
A week and a half later, they left Wigs in Deirdre’s care and flew first class to JFK.
Elise tipped her roomy seat back, accepted a glass of champagne and sipped it slowly. “I haven’t flown first class in forever.”
Jed looked up from texting his social media assistant. “Ever been to New York?”
She had another sip of delicious bubbly. “Twice. Both times first class, too. When I was eighteen, my great aunt Agnes took Tracy and me to shop for our senior-ball dresses. Aunt Agnes always flies first class. Then in college, Tracy and I got one of those package deals—hotel, dinners at a couple of nice restaurants, two Broadway shows and first-class flights. That was a great trip. We walked all over Manhattan.”
He watched her in that special way he had that made her feel wanted and understood and totally fascinating. “How long’s it been since you’ve seen Tracy?”
“Not since mid-May, when she left for Seattle.”
“When will she come back to Justice Creek again?”
“She’ll be home for Thanksgiving—at least that’s the plan as of now. But you never know. She’s mentioned a guy she likes. If that goes somewhere she may want to be with him for the holiday.”
“You miss her.”
“Yeah. But it’s not as bad as it used to be.” Not since I fell for you—and kept on falling. Right into love. “She’s happy and I’m happy for her.”
He tipped his head to the side, studying her. “So you’re not secretly longing to hop a flight to Seattle?”
“No. I meant what I told you weeks ago. Tracy and I had years together. Great years. She’ll always be a sister to me and we both know we can count on each other if things get too rough. But our lives have gone in different directions now and I’m good with that.”
His gaze never left her face. “So are you saying that you’re happy now?”
She leaned across the wide armrest to slip her arm through his. “Very. And I have a lot to be happy about. Thanks to you, my bank account is no longer on life support. The future looks bright in a number of ways. Plus, here I am on a first-class fight to New York—with you, which is the best part of all.”
He leaned even closer and whispered in her ear, “You never know. You might decide to stay with me when the book’s done, after all.”
The way she felt right now, she never wanted to be anywhere else. But something in his expression had her wondering if he imagined she might remain his assistant, too.
Then again, no. She’d made it more than clear that this one book was the only one she would type for him.
So instead of reminding him of their original agreement, she whispered teasingly, “Stay with you? You’d better watch out. I just might never leave.”
He had that look then, the one that melted her panties. “I was hoping you would say that.”
And then he kissed her, slow and sweet.
* * *
They had a suite at the Knickerbocker right on Times Square, but with a beautiful view of Bryant Park. The rooms were all cool grays and misty blues. Very soothing. And the bathtub was waiting.
Yes, they got a little bit distracted and spent more time than they probably should have enjoying that tub together and also the very comfy king-size bed. Elise had to hustle to be ready in time to meet Jed’s agent and editor for dinner. She’d brought a little black dress to wear and breathed a sigh of relief when the dress fit pretty well. True, it was snug where it had once flowed loosely over her waist and hips. And about her cleavage? She had a whole bunch more of that than before. It was kind of spilling out a little.
She turned to ask Jed if the dress made her look fat. One look in those smoldering jade eyes and she knew that if she did look fat, it totally worked for Jed. She faced the mirror again and grinned at her reflection. The dress would definitely do.
“Beautiful,” he said in that gruff tone that told her he wouldn’t mind getting that dress right off her again. He started toward her. She could see him coming over her shoulder.
She showed him the hand in the mirror. “Don’t even think it. We have to go.”
* * *
Jed’s agent, his editor and a vice president from his publishing house were all waiting at their table when they entered the restaurant. The host seated Elise next to Jed, with his agent, Holly Prescott, on her other side.
Elise had a good time with Holly. The agent, who dressed like a fashion model and weighed maybe ninety pounds soaking wet, was a little like Jed—gruff and direct, smart and funny.
The men carried on their own conversation as Holly peppered Elise with questions on everything from her family and her previous occupations to how she liked working with Jed. Elise told the other woman that she was a caterer by profession. She said that she and Jed worked great together, but typing for a living wasn’t her idea of a good time. “Which is why I only agreed to be his assistant for this one book.”
Holly frowned. “But given that you two work so well together, maybe you’ll reconsider, change your mind and stay on with him...”
Elise answered honestly. “No way. It’s a great experience, working for Jed, and I’m enjoying it. But it’s not forever. I’m not spending my life at a desk. Working for Jed now is going to make it possible for me to reopen my catering business, hopefully soon after this book’s done.”
In the meantime, she heard the vice president, Dan Short, describing Jed’s bright future with his publisher. Carl Burgess, Jed’s editor, got all excited when he heard that Jed was two thirds through the rough draft of the new book, which had the working title McCannon’s Fall.
“So it’s going well at last,” Carl said with clear relief.
And Jed gave a dry chuckle. “Don’t jinx me, Carl.” He turned to Elise. “But yeah,” he said, his eyes only for her at that moment. “I’m back on track and it feels really good.”
Jed seemed happy and relaxed when they all walked out together after the long meal was through. Carl and the vice president hailed cabs and left. Holly said she needed a quick chat with Jed—nothing major but it would take a few minutes. At Jed’s suggestion, Elise went back inside and ordered an Irish coffee at the cozy bar in the front of the restaurant.
From her corner stool, she could see Jed and Holly with their heads together standing under an awning not far from the entrance. Really, she had n
o clue what could have come up that Holly just had to share with Jed immediately...
* * *
Jed had been listening to Holly talk without really saying anything for close to ten minutes when he decided he needed to cut through the yadda-yadda and get back to Elise. “Stop trying to be subtle, Holly. It’s not your style.”
“Well, I hate to overstep my bounds, that’s all.”
“Oh, come on. When has a boundary ever slowed you down before?”
Holly narrowed her sharp eyes at him. “Don’t be an ass. It pisses me off.”
He let out a bark of laughter. “That’s more like it. What’s on your mind?”
“It’s Elise.”
His gut tightened. “On second thought, watch your mouth.”
Holly raised a placating hand. “Stop. I like her. Carl and Dan liked her. And I can tell you like her, too—a lot more than you’ve ever liked anyone, if you ask me.”
“Yes, I do. Get to the point.”
“You’re together, right? And I don’t just mean during working hours.”
“We are absolutely together. And we’re staying that way.”
“Which is great. I’ve never seen you this happy or this relaxed. And being happy and relaxed clearly works for you. Suddenly you’re flying through the book you got nowhere on for a year.”
“Whatever you’re getting at, you’re not there yet.”
“Fine. Elise told me she’s going back to catering as soon as you’ve finished the manuscript.”
That had him falling back a step. “What did you say?”
“I said, Elise told me—”
“Never mind. I heard you.” Okay, he knew Elise wasn’t solid yet on continuing as his assistant. But on the plane, she’d said she was thinking about it. Didn’t she? “When did she tell you she was going back to catering?”
“While Dan Short was describing all the big things they’re going to be doing for you when McCannon’s Fall comes out.”
Crap.
How could he not have known this? How could he have read her so wrong when he could tell just by watching her face what she was thinking? He’d been so certain that he was making progress with her, that she was slowly realizing she wanted to stay.
Ms. Bravo and the Boss Page 13
