if it fails to perform?”
He was taken aback again to hear words of “corporate speak” coming from this woman. “I guess that about sums it up.”
“I should have gone up to take a look at the original center to see how it’s decorated.”
He drove off when the light changed. “It’s done in Mother Goose sort of stuff.” He tried to think, but was having a bit of a hard time focusing when she shifted, sighing softly, and he knew she was looking right at him now. He grasped for what he could remember about the center. “The Big Bad Wolf, Three Little Kittens. Lindsey did most of the decorating herself. She did everything with the original program. And Mr. Lewis was behind her a hundred percent. I think it might have been his idea to begin with, maybe a way of making up for the shortcomings of his own parenting.”
This time there wasn’t a sigh, but a rush of air, and he knew what she was going to say before a word was uttered. So he cut her off at the pass. “Okay, okay,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m sorry. I’m jumping to conclusions.”
“Amen,” she breathed.
He flashed her a look, half expecting a smile, but there wasn’t any humor there. The soft light exposed the cut of her high cheekbones, the fullness of her bottom lip and the anger in her expression. Despite that, her image stirred him. And he realized that he actually owed Brittany Lewis for not showing up, for making him late, for setting up the circumstance for him to meet B.J. But that didn’t mean he had to like the woman.
They were getting close to where B.J. lived, and he turned to concentrate on where he was going. “I suppose you want me to give Brittany Lewis the benefit of the doubt?”
“It wouldn’t hurt.”
“Even if she never shows up?”
“I’d even bet that she’ll show up.”
“Oh, you do, do you?”
“Yes, and I’ll even bet that she’ll be sincere and willing to work.”
“Now, that’s a sucker bet,” he said. “She’ll never show up and even if she does, she’ll be more worried about color coordinating her wardrobe with her office than doing any work.”
“Do you want to make a bet?” she asked.
“How long do I have to wait tomorrow for her to show?”
“What time do you go into the office?”
“Usually around seven, but I’ve got some off-site meetings and won’t be in until ten.”
“Okay, ten it is.”
“Why are you so sure of this?” he asked, his fleeting glance finding her looking at him intently.
“Is it a bet?” she asked, matching a question for a question.
“That depends. What’s at stake?”
She shifted again, and the air stirred slightly in the car, carrying that flowery scent with it to brush his skin. Then she spoke and shocked him, something she’d seemed able to do with ease ever since they’d collided in the empty rooms of the center. “For you, an apology to Brittany Lewis.”
He slowed, but for no other reason than shock as he looked at her. “What?”
“An apology, as in, ‘I’m sorry I thought what I did of you,’ or something like that. You can write your own lines.”
“Thanks for that,” he murmured, and saw the street ahead of them where the town house complex was.
“Agreed?”
He had no idea how this whole conversation had ended in a bet that he knew he’d win. “First, tell me what do I get if I’m right and she never shows up?”
“What do you want? You name it.”
He knew what he wanted from her, but how could he tell this woman that he’d like her? “You admitting I was right, but this can’t just be her walking through the door.” He upped the stakes. “She has to actually do something productive at LynTech.”
“Then the ten o’clock deadline doesn’t work, does it?”
“Okay, why don’t we extend it for…oh…let’s see…December 23rd at—” He glanced at the dash clock, shocked that it had only been an hour and a half since this had all started. “Seven-thirty,” he said. “Give her—and you—plenty of time.”
“You’ve got a deal,” she said without hesitating. Then sat forward. “Let me out here,” she said abruptly, motioning to a small shopping center.
“The complex is just around the corner, isn’t it?”
“I need to shop,” she said as she motioned to a small market at one end of the complex.
He pulled into the parking lot and stopped by the grocery store. “I’ll wait,” he offered.
“No, thanks, I’m fine. I can walk. Thanks for the ride.” She opened the door, scrambling out, then she was looking back in at him. “I think Brittany Lewis will surprise you.”
He shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, and thought B. J. Smythe was the one who was surprising him. All he wanted right then was to figure out how to prolong this contact, but he didn’t have a chance. B.J. flashed him a smile, a stunning expression that literally made his breath catch in his chest.
“See you tomorrow,” she said, then the door closed and she was walking away.
He was tempted to watch her, just to watch her move, the way her hips swayed, her long legs, the way her hair brushed her shoulders. But he didn’t. He put the car in reverse and drove back out onto the street. Odd how the night seemed interminable now. Not long ago it had been packed with things for him to do, mostly work. But right then he couldn’t think of any of the things he had to do. Just the things he wished he could do.
BRITTANY MOVED into the store, going as far away from Matt Terrel and her stupidity as quickly as she could. A bet? What in the world had possessed her to do that? Probably the same thing that possessed her when she asked him for a ride. How could Brittany Lewis show up tomorrow, and not jeopardize the job she really wanted? She knew if she told him the truth, he’d put her in that office his secretary would find for her and banish her to the farthest regions of the place. As far away from him as he could get her.
But Brittany Lewis had to show up. Her father had to know she was there doing what she’d promised she’d do. And Matthew Terrel had to know she was there. Then she realized something. She never had to see Matt as Brittany. He’d said his secretary was taking care of everything. He wouldn’t be in until ten the next morning.
She turned, looked out the glass door at the fading tail-lights of Matt’s car and waited until it disappeared to the south. If he wouldn’t be there before ten, Brittany Lewis would be there at nine. She’d meet with the assistant, then leave again. With a good excuse. Maybe Brittany Lewis would need a new wardrobe to match her new office after all. She didn’t realize that she’d laughed out loud until someone spoke behind her.
“Can
