The One I Want, page 13
Chloe walked next door, thinking she’d give them a moment. She heard the low tones of his voice, and a short, quiet burst from Stephanie; then Rafe walked into her office. He didn’t have a coffee and she didn’t bother remarking on his forgetfulness.
“Shut the door,” she said.
He hesitated, then complied, before walking forward and sitting in the chair opposite her desk.
“How is it that you can take this time off work?” she asked him.
“I was working undercover and I’ve got a lot of comp time coming.”
138 Nancy Warren
“Comp time?”
“You don’t get paid overtime when you work undercover.
Instead, you take compensatory time. Comp time. At time and a half, I’ve got a fair bit banked.”
“And you want to spend your time helping me out?”
He sent her a cop stare. And it was a good one. But she’d stared down angry lovers, her brother, and on one never to be forgotten occasion, Princess Anne when she’d called her horse by the wrong name. Rafe didn’t bother her a bit. Finally, he said, “You asked me to do you a favor, remember?”
“I did. However, you didn’t seem too enthralled by the idea.
Or by the compensation.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll get you to break up a bad relationship for me sometime.” He shifted on the chair. “So, tell me about the shrink.”
She held up a hand. Not so fast. “Tell me about you and my secretary first.”
“That’s personal.”
“So is the business of breaking up relationships. I don’t want any messiness.”
“No messiness.”
“Right.” She’d ask Stephanie. In her experience, it was always easier to get the goods from a woman than a man.
“Here’s Deborah Beaumont’s book. I should warn you, the contents will make you positively queasy, but you’d better read it. What I want you to do is be as untidy, as hopelessly messed up as you can be.”
He took the book and turned it over to read the back cover. “Why?”
“It’s a theory I have that this poor woman, as you’ll see from her book, is so hopelessly trapped by her systems that what she really wants is a terrible mess of a man to fall in love with and fix.”
Rafe’s shoulders went rigid. “I can’t make a woman fall in love with me.”
“Just go once and see what happens. Here’s the address.
THE ONE I WANT 139
I’ve already made you an appointment for tomorrow.” She handed him her business card, on the back of which she’d written both the address and time of his appointment.
“You did?”
“Yes, otherwise you’d have had to wait more than a week to get in.”
“But I might have turned you down.”
“Then I would have cancelled the appointment,” she said sunnily. “But luckily you didn’t turn me down.”
“I should have. I’m getting a bad feeling in my gut about this.”
“Nonsense. You’re helping two people to find happiness.
What could be better?”
“How can she find happiness with me? I don’t want anything to do with a shrink.”
“Sometimes escaping from the wrong person brings almost as much happiness as getting together with the right person. At the very least, I’m hoping you’ll make her rethink her own relationship and see that it’s not working.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, keep your appointment tomorrow. If it doesn’t work out, you don’t have to go back.”
He nodded. “All right.”
“May I ask you one question?”
“You can ask.”
“Does your sudden willingness to take this job have anything to do with Stephanie?”
He sent her one of those unreadable glances from his dark, dark eyes. “What time’s my appointment tomorrow?”
Recognizing a brick wall when she’d just bashed her head against one, she sighed and shook her head. “Two o’clock.”
He took her card and the book and turned toward the door, the sexy mess of streaky hair straggling behind. Oh, yes, she thought, if you wanted an absolute disaster of a sexpot, Rafael Escobar was your man.
Chapter 14
Had that bastard stuck a GPS device on her? Stephanie wondered as she furiously returned her neatly labeled files into the new filing system.
But if he’d wanted to keep track of her so badly, could he not have called? Or repeated his late-night visit? Hot waves of anger washed over her as she admitted to herself that she’d changed her bed sheets, shaved her legs, and bought a new nightgown, then sat at home all weekend like some pathetic, lovesick moron.
Rafael Escobar hadn’t called; he hadn’t banged on her door late at night bringing his dangerous self into her apartment and her body. He’d humped her and dumped her.
He might carry a cop’s badge, but he was still a badass.
Her fatal weakness.
She was close to losing it when she realized she’d filed Doran under the Bs. Today was supposed to be a brand new start for her.
Yet another brand new start. How was it possible that this man was following her to her new job when he couldn’t be bothered to follow her home?
Stephanie wouldn’t put her ear to the wall, even though she was almost certain she could hear what Rafe and Chloe were saying if she did.
But she would not demean herself.
142 Nancy Warren Fury bubbled inside her along with an awful pain, the kind that comes when you do something really stupid and you’ve got only yourself to blame. Maybe this was how people felt when they had gangrene and had to cut off an important part of their body before the rot killed everything. Maybe she had gangrene of the heart.
The conference wasn’t long in Chloe’s office. Well, why would it be?
When she’d first seen him walk up those stairs, she’d had a moment when her heart banged against her ribs and her spir-its soared. He’d found her.
Somehow he’d found her.
But he hadn’t rushed to take her in his arms as he did in her daydreams.
She replayed the scene, all the while hearing the murmur of voices in the other room. He’d said, “Hi, Stephanie.”
Once Chloe had gone into her office and left them alone, she’d asked him, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see Chloe.” His face gave her no clue to what he was feeling. Or maybe it did and what he felt for her was nothing.
Would she never, ever learn?
She asked him if he’d known she’d be here, and he’d said,
“Had a pretty good idea.” And the gangrene spread a little more.
She heard the door to Chloe’s office open, signaling that the meeting between her boss and Rafe was over. She grabbed up the phone and started talking. She had the appointment screen open on her computer and pretty much mimicked her dentist’s receptionist when she made an appointment.
Rafe hovered a minute in her doorway while she said,
“Thursday at nine?” And then, “Okay, how about Friday at eleven?” When he still hadn’t left, she said, “Sure, I’d be happy to tell you a bit about our services.” And she started reading aloud from the brochure.
She kept reading until she’d heard his footsteps fade. She
THE ONE I WANT 143
glanced around at the office she’d spent only a few hours in.
She’d been so hopeful.
She was packing up her bag when Chloe came into her office.
“Is it lunchtime already?” How could she like the woman so much when she was such a twit?
“It’s not lunchtime. I’m leaving. I’ll save you the trouble of firing me.”
Chloe blinked. Those big blue china doll eyes of hers closed and opened, but there was no other indication of emotion in her face. Well, maybe a trace of curiosity. “Why would I fire you?”
“Oh, come on. Rafe was in your office and I don’t think he needs any help breaking up with anyone. He does a great job of that on his own.”
“Rafe broke up with you? I knew you two had slept together. I can always tell. But I thought you were still engaged to that tedious jewelry shop clerk.”
She flashed the ringless engagement hand and Chloe shrugged her fashion-model shoulders. “One had hoped. I am glad. The jewelry clerk struck me as a total fuckwit.”
At any other time she’d have smiled. Chloe pronounced
“clerk” so it rhymed with “lark,” and “fuckwit” as two complete words. She was the only person Stephanie had ever met who cursed with perfect elocution. But Stephanie didn’t feel like smiling. She felt like snarling.
“Rafe told you about me.”
“Told me what? I do wish you’d sit down. Have some coffee. You haven’t touched yours, and I made it specially.”
“I’m a thief!” She yelled the words. Shouted them so that Rafe could hear them over the infernal noise of the motorcycle racing him away from her.
Chloe picked up one of the two untouched mugs of coffee on the tray and added milk. Then she glanced around the room. “What we need in here is a nice comfortable chair. This won’t do. Come, bring your coffee and follow me.”
144 Nancy Warren Stephanie wondered which one of them was crazier as she picked up the second mug of coffee and followed her boss (for now) not into the other office, as she’d assumed, but into Chloe’s bedroom.
“This is much nicer, isn’t it? Though I haven’t had time to really decorate it yet. Pull the chair closer to the bed and we’ll have a proper chat.”
Then she kicked off her gorgeous sandals, propped two pillows behind her, and curled her legs under. The bedding was all black and white but amazingly Chloe.
She pulled up the single chair, a department store type wing-back, and sat down, feeling stupid and not knowing what to say now that she’d blurted out her problem.
Chloe didn’t seem to share her reluctance. “Are you a jewel thief? I’ve always thought that would be so exciting.”
She paused to sip her coffee. “So long, of course, as one didn’t get caught.”
“A jewel thief. Not unless you count crappy costume jewelry.” She stopped, feeling almost as embarrassed that she’d set her sights as low as she did about the actual stealing.
“Why don’t you tell me about it?”
So she did. Told her about the thrill of danger, the possibility of getting caught, the way she’d be fine for ages and then this urge would take over her.
“Rafe didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
“God, I feel like an idiot.”
“You shouldn’t. I’m glad you told me.”
“You’ve probably never stolen anything.”
“Well, I get the same thrill of danger and getting caught from having sex in odd places and from the emotional drama of my love life. Does the trick. Darling, we all have our vices.
We simply must learn to channel those energies so as not to end up in some horrible jail.”
“But—you never checked my references. You’re just start-
THE ONE I WANT 145
ing your business. Don’t you think you should be more careful?”
Chloe took a sip of her coffee and appeared to think about what Stephanie had said. “Are you planning to steal from me?”
“No.”
“Then we’ll be all right.”
She had the strangest feeling that Chloe got it. The “it”
she’d never successfully understood herself or been able to explain to another person. How could it be that this woman from a different world should understand her?
“May I make a suggestion?”
“Sure, I guess.”
“Try having sex outside. I think you’ll find it much more fun. And you’d be far less likely to go to jail.”
Stephanie felt a smile break out on her face.
“I would think Rafe could take you to some very interesting places.” Chloe glanced up under her lashes. “On his motorcycle.”
“I don’t think Rafe and I—” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. She didn’t want to voice her fears.
She didn’t have to. Chloe got it. Of course. “I saw him look at you. He’s a bit of a complicated man, as all the interesting ones are. But I would say he is smitten.”
She snorted. “He’s got a funny way of showing it.”
“What exactly happened between you two?”
And suddenly, she had someone she could talk to who wasn’t a relative, who wasn’t a friend who’d known her in her wild, bad teen years, and who wasn’t paid to counsel her.
She described the day they’d met, how he’d followed her around that store, and she’d felt scared, excited, aroused, and finally mad when she had to put that watch back.
“So you met him the same day you met me?”
“Yeah. Weird, huh?”
Chloe nodded. “Quite a coincidence. Or was it, I wonder?”
146 Nancy Warren
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Sorry, do go on. What happened next?”
So she told Chloe what she still hadn’t been able to tell another soul. Not her girlfriends, who were going to be pissed that she’d broken up with Derek, and not her mom, who was brokenhearted that she’d broken up with Derek. Not anybody. It felt great to spill all that stuff and to the only woman in her life who didn’t seem all that thrilled with Derek.
When she got to the part about Rafe coming to her apartment, she stalled, wondering what she was doing spilling her sex life to her boss on her first day of work. But Chloe wasn’t like any boss Stephanie had ever had. She said, “And was he fabulous in bed?”
“We never made it to the bed,” she said, and got warm just thinking about their escapades on the couch. “And, yeah, he was fabulous.”
Chloe looked delighted. “I knew it. There are some men you can take one look at and know they’ll be fantastic.” She sighed. “And tell me, is his backside as amazing naked as it is in jeans?”
“Better. All of him is better.”
Chloe picked up one of the pillows and hurled it at her.
“You lucky girl!” she cried.
“I don’t know. He hasn’t called or come by again. I think he dumped me.” She sighed. “The guy I’m crazy about doesn’t want me, and the one I’m trying to break free from won’t leave me alone.”
“What do you mean?” Chloe looked a little worried and Stephanie wished she’d kept her mouth shut.
“Nothing bad. He sends me flowers, pushes gushy greeting cards under my door—”
“Oh, you don’t mean the ones with dozens of overblown roses on the outside and equally overblown sentiment on the inside?”
“Yep, those kinds.” She felt sort of sick even talking about them. “And I’m pretty sure he followed me to work today.”
THE ONE I WANT 147
The concerned expression on Chloe’s face deepened. “Oh dear.”
She contemplated the room, which was tidy and feminine and restful. “Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian.”
“And then a man like Rafe walks into your life.”
“And out of it again so fast he’s like a blur.”
“I asked Rafe outright what was going on between the two of you and all he would say was that it was complicated. If he thought it was a one off, he wouldn’t have called it complicated, would he?”
She shrugged. She’d learned early not to trust her own judgment about men. Unfortunately, she still followed it. She felt miserable, was certain she looked worse.
“Well,” said Chloe brightly, “as Shakespeare said, ‘ ’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’”
“Actually, that was Alfred Lord Tennyson.”
“Really?”
“Yep, In Memoriam, written in 1850.”
“I didn’t know you were literary.”
“We studied it in school. I remember weird stuff.”
“How extraordinary. I wish you could remember where I left my house keys.”
“Sorry. I only remember useless stuff. And it has to be written down.”
“Do you have a photographic memory?”
She wished she’d never mentioned Tennyson. She should have kept her mouth shut. “Not really. Sort of, I guess.”
“But that’s wonderful. I think it could be really useful for our business.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. But I’m absolutely certain something good will come of it.” She smiled and uncurled from the bed.
“Well, you’ve cured me of misquoting poor Shakespeare.
That’s bound to be useful.”
“So if Rafe didn’t come here to tell you about me, what did he come here for?”
148 Nancy Warren
“Ah, yes. I’m not sure you’re going to like it, actually.”
Stephanie’s heart sank. “He is here to break up with somebody.” When they were going at it in her apartment he probably had another woman waiting at home for him. She’d never asked. Never even thought about it.
“No, quite the opposite.” She snuggled deeper into the pillows. “I didn’t know anything about the two of you, of course, but I’ve asked him to help me professionally.”
“He’s a cop. What’s he going to do? Moonlight as an investigator?” That would be interesting. She wasn’t quite so furious now that she knew he hadn’t come to inform her employer of her little problem. If he was here to do some investigating, she might at least see him occasionally. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
“Not exactly. He’s going to make another woman interested in him, enough that she’ll realize she’s not in love with her current fiancé.” Chloe ran her finger around the white circle on her bedspread.
“That is the stupidest, craziest idea I’ve ever heard.” Except that he’d done exactly that to her. Ridden an escalator into her life and within days caused her to dump her fiancé.
She wailed, “What if he falls for her?”
Chloe glanced up at her. “Then you’d better do what you’re good at. Steal him back.”
Chapter 15
Matthew needed some air. If he didn’t get out of the house he was going to tell Brittany that cranberry in the bathroom did not make his heart sing. Any more than sage, or pumpernickel, or any of the other colors she was shoving at him—all of them based on foods he didn’t like.
“Shut the door,” she said.
He hesitated, then complied, before walking forward and sitting in the chair opposite her desk.
“How is it that you can take this time off work?” she asked him.
“I was working undercover and I’ve got a lot of comp time coming.”
138 Nancy Warren
“Comp time?”
“You don’t get paid overtime when you work undercover.
Instead, you take compensatory time. Comp time. At time and a half, I’ve got a fair bit banked.”
“And you want to spend your time helping me out?”
He sent her a cop stare. And it was a good one. But she’d stared down angry lovers, her brother, and on one never to be forgotten occasion, Princess Anne when she’d called her horse by the wrong name. Rafe didn’t bother her a bit. Finally, he said, “You asked me to do you a favor, remember?”
“I did. However, you didn’t seem too enthralled by the idea.
Or by the compensation.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll get you to break up a bad relationship for me sometime.” He shifted on the chair. “So, tell me about the shrink.”
She held up a hand. Not so fast. “Tell me about you and my secretary first.”
“That’s personal.”
“So is the business of breaking up relationships. I don’t want any messiness.”
“No messiness.”
“Right.” She’d ask Stephanie. In her experience, it was always easier to get the goods from a woman than a man.
“Here’s Deborah Beaumont’s book. I should warn you, the contents will make you positively queasy, but you’d better read it. What I want you to do is be as untidy, as hopelessly messed up as you can be.”
He took the book and turned it over to read the back cover. “Why?”
“It’s a theory I have that this poor woman, as you’ll see from her book, is so hopelessly trapped by her systems that what she really wants is a terrible mess of a man to fall in love with and fix.”
Rafe’s shoulders went rigid. “I can’t make a woman fall in love with me.”
“Just go once and see what happens. Here’s the address.
THE ONE I WANT 139
I’ve already made you an appointment for tomorrow.” She handed him her business card, on the back of which she’d written both the address and time of his appointment.
“You did?”
“Yes, otherwise you’d have had to wait more than a week to get in.”
“But I might have turned you down.”
“Then I would have cancelled the appointment,” she said sunnily. “But luckily you didn’t turn me down.”
“I should have. I’m getting a bad feeling in my gut about this.”
“Nonsense. You’re helping two people to find happiness.
What could be better?”
“How can she find happiness with me? I don’t want anything to do with a shrink.”
“Sometimes escaping from the wrong person brings almost as much happiness as getting together with the right person. At the very least, I’m hoping you’ll make her rethink her own relationship and see that it’s not working.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, keep your appointment tomorrow. If it doesn’t work out, you don’t have to go back.”
He nodded. “All right.”
“May I ask you one question?”
“You can ask.”
“Does your sudden willingness to take this job have anything to do with Stephanie?”
He sent her one of those unreadable glances from his dark, dark eyes. “What time’s my appointment tomorrow?”
Recognizing a brick wall when she’d just bashed her head against one, she sighed and shook her head. “Two o’clock.”
He took her card and the book and turned toward the door, the sexy mess of streaky hair straggling behind. Oh, yes, she thought, if you wanted an absolute disaster of a sexpot, Rafael Escobar was your man.
Chapter 14
Had that bastard stuck a GPS device on her? Stephanie wondered as she furiously returned her neatly labeled files into the new filing system.
But if he’d wanted to keep track of her so badly, could he not have called? Or repeated his late-night visit? Hot waves of anger washed over her as she admitted to herself that she’d changed her bed sheets, shaved her legs, and bought a new nightgown, then sat at home all weekend like some pathetic, lovesick moron.
Rafael Escobar hadn’t called; he hadn’t banged on her door late at night bringing his dangerous self into her apartment and her body. He’d humped her and dumped her.
He might carry a cop’s badge, but he was still a badass.
Her fatal weakness.
She was close to losing it when she realized she’d filed Doran under the Bs. Today was supposed to be a brand new start for her.
Yet another brand new start. How was it possible that this man was following her to her new job when he couldn’t be bothered to follow her home?
Stephanie wouldn’t put her ear to the wall, even though she was almost certain she could hear what Rafe and Chloe were saying if she did.
But she would not demean herself.
142 Nancy Warren Fury bubbled inside her along with an awful pain, the kind that comes when you do something really stupid and you’ve got only yourself to blame. Maybe this was how people felt when they had gangrene and had to cut off an important part of their body before the rot killed everything. Maybe she had gangrene of the heart.
The conference wasn’t long in Chloe’s office. Well, why would it be?
When she’d first seen him walk up those stairs, she’d had a moment when her heart banged against her ribs and her spir-its soared. He’d found her.
Somehow he’d found her.
But he hadn’t rushed to take her in his arms as he did in her daydreams.
She replayed the scene, all the while hearing the murmur of voices in the other room. He’d said, “Hi, Stephanie.”
Once Chloe had gone into her office and left them alone, she’d asked him, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see Chloe.” His face gave her no clue to what he was feeling. Or maybe it did and what he felt for her was nothing.
Would she never, ever learn?
She asked him if he’d known she’d be here, and he’d said,
“Had a pretty good idea.” And the gangrene spread a little more.
She heard the door to Chloe’s office open, signaling that the meeting between her boss and Rafe was over. She grabbed up the phone and started talking. She had the appointment screen open on her computer and pretty much mimicked her dentist’s receptionist when she made an appointment.
Rafe hovered a minute in her doorway while she said,
“Thursday at nine?” And then, “Okay, how about Friday at eleven?” When he still hadn’t left, she said, “Sure, I’d be happy to tell you a bit about our services.” And she started reading aloud from the brochure.
She kept reading until she’d heard his footsteps fade. She
THE ONE I WANT 143
glanced around at the office she’d spent only a few hours in.
She’d been so hopeful.
She was packing up her bag when Chloe came into her office.
“Is it lunchtime already?” How could she like the woman so much when she was such a twit?
“It’s not lunchtime. I’m leaving. I’ll save you the trouble of firing me.”
Chloe blinked. Those big blue china doll eyes of hers closed and opened, but there was no other indication of emotion in her face. Well, maybe a trace of curiosity. “Why would I fire you?”
“Oh, come on. Rafe was in your office and I don’t think he needs any help breaking up with anyone. He does a great job of that on his own.”
“Rafe broke up with you? I knew you two had slept together. I can always tell. But I thought you were still engaged to that tedious jewelry shop clerk.”
She flashed the ringless engagement hand and Chloe shrugged her fashion-model shoulders. “One had hoped. I am glad. The jewelry clerk struck me as a total fuckwit.”
At any other time she’d have smiled. Chloe pronounced
“clerk” so it rhymed with “lark,” and “fuckwit” as two complete words. She was the only person Stephanie had ever met who cursed with perfect elocution. But Stephanie didn’t feel like smiling. She felt like snarling.
“Rafe told you about me.”
“Told me what? I do wish you’d sit down. Have some coffee. You haven’t touched yours, and I made it specially.”
“I’m a thief!” She yelled the words. Shouted them so that Rafe could hear them over the infernal noise of the motorcycle racing him away from her.
Chloe picked up one of the two untouched mugs of coffee on the tray and added milk. Then she glanced around the room. “What we need in here is a nice comfortable chair. This won’t do. Come, bring your coffee and follow me.”
144 Nancy Warren Stephanie wondered which one of them was crazier as she picked up the second mug of coffee and followed her boss (for now) not into the other office, as she’d assumed, but into Chloe’s bedroom.
“This is much nicer, isn’t it? Though I haven’t had time to really decorate it yet. Pull the chair closer to the bed and we’ll have a proper chat.”
Then she kicked off her gorgeous sandals, propped two pillows behind her, and curled her legs under. The bedding was all black and white but amazingly Chloe.
She pulled up the single chair, a department store type wing-back, and sat down, feeling stupid and not knowing what to say now that she’d blurted out her problem.
Chloe didn’t seem to share her reluctance. “Are you a jewel thief? I’ve always thought that would be so exciting.”
She paused to sip her coffee. “So long, of course, as one didn’t get caught.”
“A jewel thief. Not unless you count crappy costume jewelry.” She stopped, feeling almost as embarrassed that she’d set her sights as low as she did about the actual stealing.
“Why don’t you tell me about it?”
So she did. Told her about the thrill of danger, the possibility of getting caught, the way she’d be fine for ages and then this urge would take over her.
“Rafe didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
“God, I feel like an idiot.”
“You shouldn’t. I’m glad you told me.”
“You’ve probably never stolen anything.”
“Well, I get the same thrill of danger and getting caught from having sex in odd places and from the emotional drama of my love life. Does the trick. Darling, we all have our vices.
We simply must learn to channel those energies so as not to end up in some horrible jail.”
“But—you never checked my references. You’re just start-
THE ONE I WANT 145
ing your business. Don’t you think you should be more careful?”
Chloe took a sip of her coffee and appeared to think about what Stephanie had said. “Are you planning to steal from me?”
“No.”
“Then we’ll be all right.”
She had the strangest feeling that Chloe got it. The “it”
she’d never successfully understood herself or been able to explain to another person. How could it be that this woman from a different world should understand her?
“May I make a suggestion?”
“Sure, I guess.”
“Try having sex outside. I think you’ll find it much more fun. And you’d be far less likely to go to jail.”
Stephanie felt a smile break out on her face.
“I would think Rafe could take you to some very interesting places.” Chloe glanced up under her lashes. “On his motorcycle.”
“I don’t think Rafe and I—” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. She didn’t want to voice her fears.
She didn’t have to. Chloe got it. Of course. “I saw him look at you. He’s a bit of a complicated man, as all the interesting ones are. But I would say he is smitten.”
She snorted. “He’s got a funny way of showing it.”
“What exactly happened between you two?”
And suddenly, she had someone she could talk to who wasn’t a relative, who wasn’t a friend who’d known her in her wild, bad teen years, and who wasn’t paid to counsel her.
She described the day they’d met, how he’d followed her around that store, and she’d felt scared, excited, aroused, and finally mad when she had to put that watch back.
“So you met him the same day you met me?”
“Yeah. Weird, huh?”
Chloe nodded. “Quite a coincidence. Or was it, I wonder?”
146 Nancy Warren
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Sorry, do go on. What happened next?”
So she told Chloe what she still hadn’t been able to tell another soul. Not her girlfriends, who were going to be pissed that she’d broken up with Derek, and not her mom, who was brokenhearted that she’d broken up with Derek. Not anybody. It felt great to spill all that stuff and to the only woman in her life who didn’t seem all that thrilled with Derek.
When she got to the part about Rafe coming to her apartment, she stalled, wondering what she was doing spilling her sex life to her boss on her first day of work. But Chloe wasn’t like any boss Stephanie had ever had. She said, “And was he fabulous in bed?”
“We never made it to the bed,” she said, and got warm just thinking about their escapades on the couch. “And, yeah, he was fabulous.”
Chloe looked delighted. “I knew it. There are some men you can take one look at and know they’ll be fantastic.” She sighed. “And tell me, is his backside as amazing naked as it is in jeans?”
“Better. All of him is better.”
Chloe picked up one of the pillows and hurled it at her.
“You lucky girl!” she cried.
“I don’t know. He hasn’t called or come by again. I think he dumped me.” She sighed. “The guy I’m crazy about doesn’t want me, and the one I’m trying to break free from won’t leave me alone.”
“What do you mean?” Chloe looked a little worried and Stephanie wished she’d kept her mouth shut.
“Nothing bad. He sends me flowers, pushes gushy greeting cards under my door—”
“Oh, you don’t mean the ones with dozens of overblown roses on the outside and equally overblown sentiment on the inside?”
“Yep, those kinds.” She felt sort of sick even talking about them. “And I’m pretty sure he followed me to work today.”
THE ONE I WANT 147
The concerned expression on Chloe’s face deepened. “Oh dear.”
She contemplated the room, which was tidy and feminine and restful. “Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian.”
“And then a man like Rafe walks into your life.”
“And out of it again so fast he’s like a blur.”
“I asked Rafe outright what was going on between the two of you and all he would say was that it was complicated. If he thought it was a one off, he wouldn’t have called it complicated, would he?”
She shrugged. She’d learned early not to trust her own judgment about men. Unfortunately, she still followed it. She felt miserable, was certain she looked worse.
“Well,” said Chloe brightly, “as Shakespeare said, ‘ ’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’”
“Actually, that was Alfred Lord Tennyson.”
“Really?”
“Yep, In Memoriam, written in 1850.”
“I didn’t know you were literary.”
“We studied it in school. I remember weird stuff.”
“How extraordinary. I wish you could remember where I left my house keys.”
“Sorry. I only remember useless stuff. And it has to be written down.”
“Do you have a photographic memory?”
She wished she’d never mentioned Tennyson. She should have kept her mouth shut. “Not really. Sort of, I guess.”
“But that’s wonderful. I think it could be really useful for our business.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. But I’m absolutely certain something good will come of it.” She smiled and uncurled from the bed.
“Well, you’ve cured me of misquoting poor Shakespeare.
That’s bound to be useful.”
“So if Rafe didn’t come here to tell you about me, what did he come here for?”
148 Nancy Warren
“Ah, yes. I’m not sure you’re going to like it, actually.”
Stephanie’s heart sank. “He is here to break up with somebody.” When they were going at it in her apartment he probably had another woman waiting at home for him. She’d never asked. Never even thought about it.
“No, quite the opposite.” She snuggled deeper into the pillows. “I didn’t know anything about the two of you, of course, but I’ve asked him to help me professionally.”
“He’s a cop. What’s he going to do? Moonlight as an investigator?” That would be interesting. She wasn’t quite so furious now that she knew he hadn’t come to inform her employer of her little problem. If he was here to do some investigating, she might at least see him occasionally. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
“Not exactly. He’s going to make another woman interested in him, enough that she’ll realize she’s not in love with her current fiancé.” Chloe ran her finger around the white circle on her bedspread.
“That is the stupidest, craziest idea I’ve ever heard.” Except that he’d done exactly that to her. Ridden an escalator into her life and within days caused her to dump her fiancé.
She wailed, “What if he falls for her?”
Chloe glanced up at her. “Then you’d better do what you’re good at. Steal him back.”
Chapter 15
Matthew needed some air. If he didn’t get out of the house he was going to tell Brittany that cranberry in the bathroom did not make his heart sing. Any more than sage, or pumpernickel, or any of the other colors she was shoving at him—all of them based on foods he didn’t like.
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