Investigating Christmas. Debra & Regan Webb & Black
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“Good morning, Melva.” He paused at the receptionist’s desk to pick up his messages. With a little more life experience than Rush or any of the other executives on the floor, the woman had been a godsend, keeping them all grounded with the discreet, calm professionalism he wanted to project to clients and competitors alike.
“How was the meeting?” she asked, peering at him over her bold, red cheaters.
“I lost patience and walked out.” He shrugged. “How has the day been treating you?”
“Glorious, thank you.” She flicked a hand at the stunning, panoramic views of San Francisco beyond the glass walls surrounding the space. “Your messages.” She slid a stack of small paper squares across the marble counter.
Rush grinned. Although everything within Gray Box systems was completely electronic now, she insisted on backing up phone message emails with her old-school habit. He loved it.
“You have a visitor waiting in your office.” Melva’s practiced smile turned warm, almost affectionate.
The expression stopped Rush short. Melva had used that particular soft smile with only one person and that person was now rusticating in France, working for a musty old man with almost as much money as Rush. He turned slowly toward his office suite, which occupied one full corner of the floor, noticing the brunette seated in the waiting area near his assistant’s desk.
“Where is Trisha?”
Melva’s lips flatlined with disapproval at the mention of his assistant’s name. She’d never warmed to his current girlfriend. It didn’t help that since he and Trisha had been involved personally, he had yet to find a more suitable place for her within the company. “It appears she is away from her desk,” Melva stated.
His gaze swept over the other glass-walled offices and conference rooms. “I can see that.” Just as he could see the long, glossy sweep of his unexpected guest’s hair falling straight and sleek well past her shoulders. His pulse kicked, though he knew it couldn’t be the woman he most wanted to see. Despite Melva’s warmth, he knew that very special brunette was in France. Still, his body moved automatically, propelling him closer as if hope alone would change the stark reality.
He wanted to stride on into his office like a consummate professional, giving his assistant room to do her job and make introductions, but Trisha wasn’t anywhere on the floor. He could go back downstairs and catch the private elevator that opened into the hallway behind his posh office. That would create an entrance worthy of the primary developer and top dog at Gray Box.
Or he could stop being ridiculous and get on with his day. Hadn’t he been lamenting time wasters a few minutes ago? Irritated with himself, he strode forward to meet his guest.
The familiar vanilla-laced scent stopped him as effectively as a brick wall. His heart slammed against his ribs when she looked up and he saw those big brown eyes full of nerves.
“Lucy?” He had to be hallucinating. She’d left him a year ago, effectively disappearing overnight. One day here—and his—and the next, he been left holding a note that she’d moved to Chicago with no plans to return. He folded his arms over his chest, not giving a damn about defensive posture. She didn’t look capable of rendering destruction, but he knew better. “This is...” The multiple ways to finish that sentence became a logjam in his head.
“A surprise, I’m sure,” she finished for him, coming to her feet.
He had to back up a step to stay out of her personal space and to keep his hands to himself.
“My apologies for dropping in unannounced, Rush.” Her smile flashed and disappeared from one second to the next. “I just got back in town. Can you spare a few minutes?”
Hearing her say his name brought back images and memories best left until later. “For you, always.” He caught the subtle twist of her lips and winced. His time and attention had been the one sore spot during their relationship. They were both busy professionals and he couldn’t always insist that global markets and prestigious clients wait while he wrapped up a date.
Things were different now, calmer and more predictable since he’d achieved his goal and positioned his company at the forefront of the electronic information security industry. Calmer, but not nearly done, he thought, as part of his brain slid back to the wasted morning meeting.
Recognizing the doubt about his availability in Lucy’s eyes, he pulled his attention back to the present. Bending over Trisha’s keyboard, he sent his secretary a text alert to clear his calendar for the afternoon. “There.” He stood tall, smiling at Lucy. “I’m all yours for the rest of the day.” The idea of it cascaded over him in a wave of effervescent anticipation. Only Lucy had ever had this effect on him. He held open his office door, encouraging her to enter ahead of him. The soft fabric of the smart evergreen dress she wore swirled at her knees, and he enjoyed the distraction for a moment.
When the door closed behind him, he flipped the switch that turned the clear glass panes of his office opaque, giving them privacy from anyone else on the floor. “What do you need?”
“Oh, my,” she breathed. “Your view of the bay is stunning.” Lucy turned a slow circle in the middle of his office, a bittersweet smile wobbling on her lips as she took it all in. “The world at your feet, right?”
“I saved the best view for myself,” he confessed.
“As you should.” Her smile blossomed, a little less wistful. She cleared her throat. “The building, the new offices...it’s all amazing, Rush. Congratulations. You deserve it.”
“You think so?” Pride swelled up at her praise before he could battle it back. He’d never reconciled the way she’d constantly encouraged him with the fact that she’d walked away without a single word of warning. Never one to leap without looking, her sudden departure from him as well as the city had completely baffled him.
She nodded, interlocking her fingers at her waist. He remembered that little habit showing up whenever her self-control was about to snap. What was going on?
He shrugged out of his sport coat and hooked it on a sleek stainless coat tree near the door. “Why don’t we sit down,” he suggested briskly. He considered rounding his desk, emphasizing his position and power in the room. Instead, he moved toward the long, elegant leather couch. How many days had he envisioned her right here beside him with a cup of coffee in the morning or a glass of wine after a long day?
Lucy chose a chair on the other side of the art deco glass coffee table and that spark of hope that this might be a personal visit withered.
He catalogued every nuance and change as she settled into the chair. Fit as ever, her sense of style still radiated elegance and class. Yes, her hair had grown longer over the past year. And the warmth in her big brown eyes was tempered with something he couldn’t pinpoint. She’d done her eyes with subtle color, framed by those thick, dark lashes, and she’d swept soft gloss over her rosy lips. He didn’t care for the tense lines bracketing her lovely mouth. What had happened to her since she’d left him?
He’d kept tabs on her, always in search of a way to bring her back home to California. Not finding the right combination of timing