finally abated today. She strode into the building, across the smooth marble foyer, and up to the granite counter reception desk. A friendly-looking blonde finished transferring a phone call, then shot Molly a smile. “Good morning. Can I help you?”
“I’d like to see Linc…” Molly paused, then pulled his last name together with his first, the two words sounding strange on her tongue.
“Lincoln Curtis, please.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
The friendliness quotient dropped a little from the blonde’s features. “I’m sorry, miss, but Mr. Curtis is a very busy man. Without an appointment…” She put her hands up, implying it was a lost cause.
Appointment?
How was she supposed to get an appointment? What was she supposed to say? Hi, I’m the woman you met in a bar for a one-night stand. I really need to see you again, can you spare ten minutes?
Chances were good he wouldn’t even remember that night, not to mention her. How horrible would that be?
“I spoke with Mr. Curtis a couple months ago about a possible position with his company,” Molly said, partially lying, partially telling the truth. They had talked two months ago, and he had made an offhand comment about her working for him, but she hadn’t been sure he was serious. “He said if I was ever in town, I should stop by.”
The blonde raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Mr. Curtis said that?”
Molly nodded. Added a smile.
The blonde considered that, giving Molly a visual once-over, as if her icy blue eyes were lie detectors. “Is he expecting you?”
No. “Yes, I believe so.”
The blonde assessed Molly again, then turned to her computer and struck a few keys. “According to the schedule I have here, Mr. Curtis should be just finishing up a meeting. He has six minutes until the next one, and then he’s booked solid for the rest of the day.”
“Are you sure? He doesn’t have fifteen free minutes?”
The blonde laughed. “You don’t know Mr. Curtis very well. He rarely takes enough time to eat lunch.” Then her face softened. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but if you head up to his office on the twentieth floor, you might be able to catch him between meetings. If not, see Tracy, his assistant. She can schedule a time for you to speak with him. Like I said, he’s a very busy man, so be prepared to wait several days for an appointment.”
Molly prayed she wouldn’t have to wait days. She didn’t want to spend the money on a hotel room, only to have the whole thing not work out. She needed every dime she had, and every day she could get, to be looking for a job. Wasting time waiting on Lincoln Curtis wasn’t on her agenda.
“Thank you,” Molly said to the receptionist, then headed for the elevators. At first, her steps were light, filled with the thrill of victory. But as the elevator doors opened and she stepped inside, she realized where she was going.
And who she was about to see.
The marble and brass elevator began its upward journey with a soft whirr. Molly’s stomach, however, dropped, and her queasiness returned, whether due to nerves or the baby or both. What if Linc didn’t remember her? Or said he’d been kidding about the job offer? Or turned out to be married?
Or worse, told her to leave?
She reached out a hand to press another button, any other button, then stopped herself. She had to do this. Had to find a way to tell him about the baby—it was only right.
And more, to satisfy her own lingering curiosity about the man she had met. They’d agreed to keep the night free from connections, but still she wondered about him. About what he was like on a longer-term basis.
What if they’d had two nights? A week? A year?
The elevator shuddered to a stop, and the doors opened on the twentieth floor. Molly took a deep breath, then strode forward. She hesitated in the hall. Right? Left? She should have asked.
“Molly?”
The voice, deep, dark, like good chocolate, hit her as hard as the memory. Sitting in the bar, intoxicated not by the barely touched mixed drink in front of her, but by the conversation, by the way he looked at her and really seemed to see her. Listen to her.
Molly turned around, and there he was. Linc. Looking exactly—well, almost exactly—like he had that night.
He stood in the hall beside a cherry-paneled door labeled “Conference Room,” a second man she barely noticed by his side. All she saw was Linc, wearing a tailored navy suit that on another man would have looked merely handsome. But on Linc, the suit gave him an air of power. At his full six-foot-two height, he commanded the wide hallways of Curtis Systems.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
Now or never. She took a step forward. “Looking for you.”
Surprise lit his features. The man beside him looked from Molly to Linc, then back again, clearly curious. With an almost imperceptible flick of his hand, Linc dismissed the other man, who shot Linc a grin, then said something about a meeting and headed off down the corridor.
“Why?” Linc said, taking a step forward and lowering his voice. “I thought we agreed not to see each other again.”
Whatever Hollywood reunion she’d secretly hoped to have, with Linc being glad to see her, deflated in that moment, in the neutral tone in his voice. Molly’s hand strayed protectively to her abdomen, and she decided there was no way she was going to drop the pregnancy bombshell. Not now. “You were actually the one who told me to look you up if I ever got to Vegas again. Well, I’m in Vegas…and looking you up.”
“I…” He thought a second, and in the flash of that moment she panicked, sure she’d done the wrong thing. “I did. But I had no idea you’d actually take me up on the offer.”
She’d come all this way, thinking she could walk into Linc’s life, take him up on that job offer he’d thrown out the night they met, tell him about the baby, and in the process get to know him—
And it was all falling apart right before her eyes. The tears that had been a constant companion ever since she’d left the doctor’s office threatened again at the back of her eyes, but Molly refused to let them win.
She thought of the baby, and a fierce need to take care of the child to come rose within her. She had to find a job. Immediately. No matter what it took.
Linc had made that offer. She had heard him. This could work.
It would work.
“I realize I’ve just dropped in on you out of the blue,” she said, wanting only to get out of there, before the tears won or Linc said something else that fractured her composure, but refusing to give up just yet. “And this might be a bad time, so perhaps we can schedule a time to talk.”
“Is there something about that night I should know?” His voice had dropped nearly to a whisper.
