she would disturb him no matter what? “Then if it’s all right with you, I’m a morning person. I like to get an early start on the day.”
“Fine.”
Silence engulfed them once more, awkward and uneasy. Kelsey adjusted her appearance: her satchel, the hem of her T-shirt, anything rather than let Markoff’s obvious displeasure get under her skin.
“Well then,” she said, forcing a cheery note, “since we’ve covered where I’m working, what I’m working on and when, all that’s left to settle is where you’d like me to sleep.” Again, she found herself prodding his non-response. “Mr. Lefkowitz said you agreed to let me stay here.” Amazingly.
“Upstairs,” he replied. “The bedrooms are upstairs.”
“Is there a particular room…?”
“I don’t care.”
“As long as I don’t steal yours, right?”
Her attempt at levity fell flat. More than flat, based on how his expression darkened.
“I appreciate you being so accommodating. The Berkshires are a popular spot apparently, because summer rooms are at a premium.” She was babbling again. “Mr. Lefkowitz had his office call every hotel first.”
“I’m sure he did.”
Was that skepticism in his voice? What on earth? Did he think she chose to stay up here in the middle of nowhere? She took a deep breath and smoothed back her hair. “Look, Mr. Markoff, I know this arrangement wasn’t your idea.” She kept her voice as level and calm as possible. “And I’ll be the first to admit the arrangements are less than ideal….”
“Or necessary.”
“Be that as it may, I’m here for the summer. I promise I’ll do my best to stay out of your way as much as possible.”
“Good.”
The blunt answer stung more than Kelsey expected. She tightened her smile, hiding the reaction. “It might help if we set some ground rules right now. For example, as far as meals go…”
“The kitchen’s in the back. You’re on your own for food.”
Now why didn’t that surprise her? “And the bathrooms?”
“The main one’s upstairs, across from the guest rooms. You’ll find towels and a tub. There’s limited hot water.”
“Guess that means I should catch the first shower.”
He wasn’t amused. Again, the reaction hurt. She chalked it up to a new location and old ghosts. It’s only for a summer, she told herself. Any situation could be endured as long as it was short-term and she kept her personal distance.
“Don’t worry,” she amended. “I’m not one for lingering under the spray.” Or anywhere she wasn’t wanted, for that matter. Since he nodded in response, she assumed he approved the answer.
Meanwhile, she could tell Markoff was eager to end their meeting. So he could stomp off and rue her presence, no doubt. “My laptop is in the car. Why don’t I go get it and start working. I’ll print out the finished pages and leave them for your review.”
As she spoke, she moved toward the door. Unfortunately, Markoff moved toward the desk at the same time and they inadvertently ended up in each other’s personal space. The scent of wood and cloves drifted toward Kelsey. A warm earthy aroma that made her want to close her eyes and inhale deeply. Instead, she looked up to meet eyes that were stormier than ever.
Awareness, strong and instinctive, spread through her. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were…” For some reason her brain wiring had suddenly gone haywire, and she was having trouble putting words together. “I mean, I was heading…”
She slipped past him, into the vacant doorway. “Why don’t I go get my laptop?”
Alex didn’t respond. Good thing, since it took till she reached her car and some deep breaths of fresh air before the weird flustered sensation left her brain.
“Get a grip on yourself,” she muttered to herself, unlocking the door. “You’re going to be here all summer.” Surely she wasn’t going to spend the next three months rattled by her boss, was she?
When she returned a few minutes later she heard a voice coming from the office.
“For crying out loud, we’re talking a couple extra months. Three tops. You can’t wait an extra ninety days?”
Who couldn’t wait? Markoff’s voice was razorsharp, cutting through not just the air, but her as well. “And I suppose I broke my arm on purpose too,” she heard him say. “That why you sent the babysitter? To make sure I didn’t hurl myself down another hill?”
Babysitter. He meant her. That meant he was talking to Stuart Lefkowitz. Trying to get rid of her perhaps?
Crossing the main space toward the doorway, she stopped shy of the entrance and peered through the crack. Markoff had his back to her. She could see his shoulder muscles rippling with tension beneath his shirt. When he turned, she saw a similar tautness playing across his profile.
“Did it ever occur to you,” he said, “that I can’t write with someone breathing down my neck twentyfour seven?”
Alex’s jaw twitched while he listened to the voice on the other end. Suddenly, his eyes grew disbelieving. “What did you say? Yes, I know what ‘breach of contract’ means. You wouldn’t…”
There was silence, followed by a slow controlled intake of breath. Incredulity had changed to outright fury. “Fine. You’ll get your damn book.”
Kelsey jumped as he slammed the cell phone on his desk. Breach of contract? They were threatening legal action? No wonder Mr. Lefkowitz had been so adamant about her staying. And no wonder Markoff resented her. He was right. She was a babysitter.
On the other side of the door, Alex let out a frustrated groan, and she heard footsteps. Fearing discovery, she instinctively drew back, scrambling mentally for an explanation should she be confronted for eavesdropping. A second later, the banging of a door told her she was safe; that he’d left through the garden. Sure enough, looking outside, she could see him stomping off toward the woods.
With the angry conversation she heard fresh in her mind, she finally let out the sigh she’d been holding since her arrival.
This was going to be a long summer.
That night Kelsey unpacked, settling into the room that would be her home for the next three months. Since Alex never mentioned which bedroom would be hers, she selected one that looked like a guest room. Like the front of the house, the room she picked was dark and woodsy, draped in hunter green and brown. The only thing missing was a deer head hanging on the wall.
The aroma of cedar wafted from the closet, adding to the rustic appeal. As she unpacked her clothes, she tried to count the number of times she’d gone through this routine. And it was a routine. First came the bureau, taking up as little drawer space as possible—a throwback to sharing a room with multiple people—then the closet. The entire process seldom
