want to do, he dismissed the matter as inconsequential—and simply told her what he could of the truth.
“I didn’t start thinking about my own firm until a couple of months ago. It just seemed like it was time.”
“To break out on your own?”
“Something like that.”
“Then, this isn’t a goal you’ve worked toward for a while.”
He hadn’t been prepared for the conclusion in her voice. Or, maybe what he hadn’t expected was her insight.
A hush fell between them, long seconds passing before her soft voice finally drifted toward him.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Overstepping myself. I didn’t mean to pry.” Sympathy joined the apology in her tone. “I just assumed that starting your own firm was something you’d wanted to do.”
She clearly recognized that it was not.
For a moment J.T. couldn’t think of a thing to say that wouldn’t sound like confirmation—or like too much of a protest. He handled his life the same way he played poker. Straight-faced and close to the vest. He wasn’t given to showing his hand. Yet, in a matter of seconds, this quietly unassuming woman had recognized his ambivalence and pretty much called him on it.
Feeling exposed, not caring for the sensation at all, he dismissed her perception as a fluke. At least, he did until he considered what he’d learned about her job and realized she might well be wrestling with her circumstances, too. The inherent unfairness in her situation did strike a vaguely familiar chord.
“What would you do if you didn’t have to work for the agency?”
Amy shifted against the wall, uncomfortable with having trespassed onto sensitive ground. She wasn’t usually so straightforward with a client. Not that Jill had her deal with any of them directly very often. Most of her contact was over the phone or by mail. It was just that this man’s vague responses had left her with the feeling that his new venture had been precipitated by something unexpected. A divorce, perhaps. Or a problem within the firm he now worked with. Personality problems within the partnership. Cutbacks.
Whatever the reason, he didn’t seem to her to be at all enthused about striking out on his own. She’d simply responded to that. Much as she’d responded to his touch moments ago, and the tension she sensed in him now.
That faint tension seemed to reach toward her, wrap itself around her, increase her own.
Not at all sure what to make of her reactions to him, she tried to ignore them all. “If I could do anything…”
A faint thud sent her heart into her throat.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“It sounded like something hitting metal.”
“Might have been a door. Is the stairwell near the elevators?”
“It’s just around the corner.”
“They’re probably evacuating the building. Go on,” he coaxed, sounding far less concerned than she felt. “You’d… what?”
The elevator doors were too thick to hear much of anything else going on beyond them. It was also possible that they were stuck between floors, which meant they were further insulated by the six or so feet of crawl space and whatever else existed between the building’s various levels from anyone who might pull the doors open from the outside.
Thinking of how big he was, how quietly powerful and confident he seemed, she inched closer to his voice. “Get a degree in marine biology,” she said, “find a research position, then tackle the rest of my life list.”
More concerned with being stuck while everyone else was leaving than with the list she’d barely begun to complete, she strained to see if she could hear anything else.
All she heard was the curiosity in Jared’s voice. “Life list?”
“It’s a list of things I want to do before I…” die wasn’t a word she wanted to use just then. “Before I’m too old to get around,” she concluded.
“Getting your degree is at the top of it?”
“At the top was to buy my own home.” Having her own home had been at the top of her list ever since her father had married Jill and sold the one she’d grown up in. She’d promised herself then that she’d someday have a home no one could take from her. “I did that a few years ago,” she told him, ever grateful for the down payment allowed by the modest insurance policy her father had kept for her.
Trying to stay focused, she thought about the next item on the old piece of blue notepaper she kept tucked in her nightstand drawer, and skipped right over it. Admitting her hope—her need—to have a family of her own felt far too personal, especially since he was undoubtedly only trying to distract her from thoughts of where they were.
“Next is to dive off the coast of Australia,” she added, thinking her odds of accomplishing any of that roughly equal to acquiring a fairy godmother. She had neither the prospects, the time nor the money her dreams required. Given her present obligations, she wouldn’t for a very long time. “And in the Bahamas and Hawaii.” It was also a wish list, after all.
The curiosity in his voice remained as he asked how long she’d been diving. She told him her dad taught her when she was eleven, but that she hadn’t done much in the past couple of years. “No time,” she explained, thinking she’d love to be on any of those islands just then. Anywhere to be away from where she was.
Maybe she was a little claustrophobic after all. Or maybe the unease she felt was fear of falling.
She didn’t realize she’d spoken her last thoughts aloud. At least, not until she felt him move closer and his hand touched her arm.
The moment it fell away, she realized what he’d done.
He’d let her know he was right there, close enough to reach, if she needed him.
“You’re doing fine,” he assured her.
“Do you think we should try to get out?”
“Doing anything other than staying where we are for a while would probably just get us into bigger trouble. They know we’re here,” he reminded her.
“In the movies, they show people going through the little door up there.”
“What they don’t show in those movies is that the hatch is usually bolted from the outside. Even if this one isn’t, I’d rather not crawl around on top of this thing trying to find a way out in the dark.” J.T. didn’t mind an adrenaline rush. He’d hang off a cliff face suspended by ropes and gladly spend the time working out his next move and enjoying the view. But that kind of risk was different from hanging onto greased cables while standing on a box that would start moving the instant the power came back on. He’d have little control in that situation. Being in control was what his life
