wasn’t sure what Ralph’s reaction would be. After all, Jack hadn’t been that pleased to see Ashley.
But Kayla had a schedule and nothing messed with it, even handsome firefighters like Jack. Today was Wednesday, and on Wednesdays Kayla kept Ashley with her until one p.m., when she dropped her off at the Windy City Day Care Center. One of the things Kayla liked about her work was the ability to take Ashley with her now and then. Most workdays Kayla did leave her daughter in child care, but there were certain days, like today, when they shared time together.
Stopping at a red light, Kayla shot a smile over to Ashley, who was strapped into the car seat and happily talking to her favorite toy—a rather battered teddy bear named Hugs. The bear was even older than three-year-old Ashley, because Kayla had bought it for her the day she’d found out she was pregnant. There had been some tough times in the intervening years, and the toy’s brown fur had now faded to a dark beige from numerous washings.
“Anyway, I’m sorry Jack upset you,” Ralph was saying.
“He didn’t upset me,” Kayla assured him. After all, it wouldn’t do for her client to think that she was easily distracted. She wanted him to appreciate her calmness and reliability. She wanted him to think of her as a woman who got the job done. “We got everything settled, no problem.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
After hanging up her cellular phone, Kayla told herself that she hadn’t lied to Ralph. As far as she was concerned, everything was settled between Jack and her. And that sizzle of attraction she’d felt when she’d handed him her pen had been a figment of her imagination. She refused to even consider any other explanation.
“Anyone home?” This time Kayla made sure to announce her return to Jack’s apartment. She’d tried ringing the buzzer, but there had been no reply. And after his former blunder, Kayla didn’t trust Ernie the Doorman anymore. The fact that Ernie had asked her if she was Jack’s “latest” hadn’t exactly endeared him to her, either.
“This is your second time here today, not that I pry into other people’s business,” Ernie had told her in a monotone so deadpan it would put a caffeine-freak to sleep. What little hair Ernie had was carefully combed back from his forehead in a futile attempt to give him the image of having more hair than he actually did. His uniform fit his hefty build so snugly that the buttons were straining, as if ready to launch themselves across the lobby.
Despite his disclaimer about prying into other people’s business, Kayla had sensed that Ernie had been more than willing to give her the lowdown on Jack, but she hadn’t stayed to chat. It was already after three, and she had other clients and other errands to run before calling it a day. But she had accepted Ernie’s help in transporting several bags of groceries up to Jack’s front door.
“Jack, it’s Kayla,” she called out as she pushed the door open a little further. She had two plastic bags of food in one hand. The list of groceries he’d given her had cost her nearly eighty dollars, and most of it was junk food. “I’ve got your groceries. Anyone here? I’m not a burglar or belly dancer...” she couldn’t resist adding with a grin. “Hello?”
She made it into the living room without Jack taking any kamikaze swings at her with his crutch. In fact, she didn’t see any sign of him. For a moment she panicked, wondering if he’d fallen and hurt himself. An image flashed into her mind of him lying in the bedroom, injured, unable to get up. Then she registered the sound of the shower running.
Her mental image switched from him lying on the bedroom floor, to him lying in the bathroom, his chest bare...perhaps even all of him bare.
“Oh, great, that’s very helpful,” she muttered under her breath. “Having steamy fantasies about your client when the poor man is injured and could be in trouble.”
So what should she do? Knock on the bathroom door and make sure he was okay? Let him know she was there? She certainly didn’t want him walking out of the bathroom nude or anything. He seemed the type to do just that. Yet she didn’t want to startle him, either. He might slip in the shower and break his other leg.
Putting her ear to the door, she heard him singing. Okay, that meant he wasn’t in trouble. In fact, his voice wasn’t half-bad. Neither was the rest of him. The rebellious thought slipped into her mind before she could stop it.
“That’s enough of that,” she muttered under her breath. “Get your mind out of the shower!”
In the end, Kayla decided to write a note telling him she was there. She taped it to the bathroom door. She’d no sooner done that than the phone started ringing. Expecting an answering machine to pick up, she waited for seven rings before the noise drove her crazy, forcing her to answer it herself. She’d never been able to just ignore a ringing phone—after all, it might be an important call.
“Mr. Elliott’s residence,” she said briskly, juggling the six-pack of soda she was trying to place into the fridge at the same time.
“Who is this?” a woman’s voice demanded. “Where is Jack?”
Wishing now that she hadn’t answered the phone, Kayla said, “He’s in the shower.”
“In the shower?” the woman repeated in disbelief. “What kind of answer is that?”
“The best one I’ve got,” Kayla retorted. “May I tell him who’s calling?”
“Misty. And have him call me back as soon as he gets out!”
“Fine. Does he have your number?”
“Honey, he knows me inside and out,” the woman purred before hanging up.
Kayla had no sooner hung up the phone than it rang again. She’d automatically picked it up before realizing what she’d done. “Hello?” she said before belatedly tacking on, “Elliott residence.”
“Oh, my, you’re not Jack!” Caller number two had a husky female voice that was made all the more sultry by a Southern accent.
“That’s right,” Kayla said cheerfully. “I’m not Jack.”
“Which girl are you?” the woman asked. “You don’t sound like the snippy attorney who was chasing him last week. And you’re not the waitress with the English accent, either.”
Kayla began wondering if that was how Jack had broken his leg, from being chased by endless lines of women.
“Mr. Elliott is unavailable at the moment,” Kayla stated. “May I take a message for him?”
“Tell him Mandy is worried about him and willing to drop everything to come on over there to take care of him. He just has to say the word and I’ll be right there.”
“I’ll tell him.”
By the time Jack came out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a smile and a pair of running shorts, Kayla had collected a stack of nearly half a dozen messages—all from women with names that rhymed.
“You got calls from Misty and Mandy, Tammy and Sammy, Barbie and Bobbie,” she said, trying to keep a straight face.
“What are you laughing at?” he demanded defensively.
“Nothing.”
