style="font-size:15px;"> “I apologize.” She exhaled, her shoulders rounding. “You said something kind, and I was rude.”
More defensive than rude, and her eyes reflected a vulnerability that seemed an odd reaction to a comment on her perfume.
Justin told himself to end this exchange and forget it ever happened. After the responsibilities of the last few years, responsibilities that unofficially ended tomorrow night, he’d earned the right to uncomplicated fun. Olivia’s changing moods and mixed signals screamed complications.
A man with any brains would ask Diane out when he got back from South Carolina. He’d been caught off guard by Kate’s dinner invitation and reflexively said yes, but she seemed like a sweet kid who needed an equally sweet boyfriend. Justin was looking for something a little less lasting—simple, clear-cut, adult enjoyment.
He looked into Olivia’s soft gray eyes, and desire tightened his body. Too bad he didn’t think the offer of no-strings fun would appeal to her.
“Maybe I should be the one apologizing,” he said, “if my remarks were too personal for the workplace.”
“No, I overreacted. I’ve been…never mind. Maybe you really are a nice guy.”
“Just ‘maybe’?” he teased, giving her a look of mock-indignation.
She laughed, and the husky sound affected him even more viscerally than when he’d overheard it yesterday, because this time he’d won it from her. Her open, welcoming expression was unexpected and transformed her from attractive to so sexy his breath caught.
He held the door open, and as she passed by, she tossed one last smile over her shoulder. “I really am sorry if I’ve been curt. I’m glad we’re going to be working together, Justin.”
So was he. Particularly if he got to work with this Olivia, not the one behind the guarded mask. He’d just have to see what he could do to keep this Olivia around more often.
3
WEDNESDAY EVENING, long after the daily noise of the office had dropped to just a few remaining employees shutting down their computers, Jeanie poked her head through the doorway to Olivia’s office. “I’m about to take off.”
Olivia waggled her fingers in a half wave. “See you tomorrow.” Unfortunately. No sunny Kaokara for her.
The blonde hovered indecisively, fidgeting until Olivia finally asked, “Something else I can do for you?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come to dinner with us? Albert’s brother is very nice.”
“Thanks anyway, but I’m just going to head home.”
Having made one last failed effort at the double date, Jeanie nodded. The other woman was gone before Olivia could admit anything stupid—such as, she’d be a lousy dinner date with Justin Hawthorne on her mind.
Could he really be the exception womankind hoped for, the stunningly sexy man who was still a nice guy? After their brief interlude in the breakroom yesterday, she’d chided herself for having painted him with the same brush as Sean just because he was good-looking. So he and Kate were having dinner sometime after the shoot, that was hardly grounds for labeling him Womanizer of the Year.
Her stomach growled, turning her thoughts from Justin’s future dinner plans to her own immediate ones. She gathered her belongings and took the elevator down to her car, looking forward to food and a relaxing bath. About halfway to her apartment, however, she realized that she’d finished off her emergency store of groceries the night before. The sole contents of her fridge were wilted lettuce and half-empty condiment bottles of everything from lime juice to Worcestershire sauce.
Deli takeout it is, then.
By the time she pulled into a parking garage close to her favorite downtown delicatessen, she was starving. She hurried across the sidewalk, her trench coat not completely protecting her from the crisp evening air. As she waited at the intersection for oncoming traffic to stop, she shot an envious sidelong glance toward the expensive four-star restaurant on the corner.
Lacking an occasion big enough to justify the price tag, she’d never dined there. Now, she unconsciously pressed a hand to her empty stomach and fantasized about the meals lucky patrons were enjoying inside. She covertly studied the candlelit booths on the other side of the thick glass window and tried not to feel too much like a gastronomical Peeping Tom.
Justin.
Her jaw dropped as she did a double take. Yes, that was definitely Justin Hawthorne inside.
Aware she was staring openly, Olivia snapped her gaze to the blinking red upraised hand across the street. But a quick glance back showed Justin hadn’t noticed her. His attention was fully devoted to the beautiful blonde seated across from him, a slim young woman in a little black dress.
The blonde reached across the table for Justin’s hand, and anger churned in the pit of Olivia’s stomach. She’d rescheduled her vacation for a dinner date! She should be in South Carolina tonight and en route to her vacation Friday, but Justin had ruined that with his “emergency.”
The sign on the other side of the crosswalk finally changed, flashing the picture of a stick-figure pedestrian, and she marched forward, fuming. She wasn’t an unreasonable woman. If tonight’s date had been, for instance, an anniversary or a marriage proposal, she could’ve understood. But if the blonde was a serious girlfriend, what was he doing flirting with Diane and making dinner plans with Kate?
Either leading on the poor sweet kid from HR, or taking a leaf from Sean’s book and cheating on his girlfriend.
Fists clenched, Olivia entered the deli. As the warm air and aroma of fresh-baked bread hit her, she realized she didn’t actually have much of an appetite left. She’d spent all day castigating herself for hastily judging him, telling herself that his being attractive wasn’t a crime. She’d apologized to him, made a point of being extra friendly when she’d seen him in the parking garage this morning—only to learn he was like too many other men, interested in beautiful women and his own selfish pleasure. Forget work or any inconvenience to anyone else’s life.
Her first self-protective instincts about Justin Hawthorne had been right. Every inch The Guy, a creature with more testosterone than conscience, he should have a bright orange warning label smacked across his forehead. Why couldn’t she learn once and for all to stop pushing aside prudence in favor of a handsome smile?
JUSTIN WALKED into the dim smoky interior of Hewitt’s Bar shortly before midnight. Although he’d need to get out of bed before dawn to drive Andrea to the airport, he’d been restless after they’d returned from dinner, so he’d called his friend Bryan Tanner to meet for a couple of beers and a game of pool. On the weekend, when management brought a DJ in, Hewitt’s was a popular spot to socialize and meet women. In the middle of the week, business was slightly slower, and it was a great place to come for a quick drink.
Lifting his gaze to the television set above the bar that was broadcasting the day’s sports highlights, Justin waited for his chance to order. He’d drink to getting his life back. Tomorrow, his nineteen-year-old-sister Andrea would leave for a prestigious cooking school in Europe. His obligation would be fulfilled.
When his parents had been killed
