a cloakroom,” his grandmother said from the stairway landing. “Not anymore. Kurt, Lissa is my new driver. Only I’m going to call her my personal assistant, because it sounds so much nicer. Don’t you agree?”
CHAPTER TWO
IF HANNAH WILDER had pulled the stair railing loose and hit her grandson over the head with it, Kurt couldn’t have looked more dazed. Under other circumstances, Lissa thought, she might have enjoyed watching him turn green. She wondered whether it was Hannah’s announcement or his past coming back to haunt him which had caused Kurt’s reaction.
Then she almost snorted at the idea. As if Lissa Morgan popping back into his life after all this time could have any such stunning effect on him. Frankly, she was surprised that even her name had jolted his memory loose. Any guy who would make a bet with his buddies on whether he could get the most unpopular girl in the class to believe that he was interested in her—and prove it in the most intimate of ways—just so they could all laugh at her for the rest of the semester because she’d been taken in by his charm, wouldn’t bother to remember the details six years later.
Unless she’d been an even funnier joke to him than she’d realized. Unless she’d been an even easier conquest than he’d hoped for.
Which, of course, she had been. Stupid—that was the only word for her back then.
He’d been a senior in college, taking advanced math for the second time to fill out his requirements, struggling to get his grade point far enough above the danger level so he could graduate in a couple of months. So when he’d asked her—only a freshman, but the most advanced student in the class nevertheless—to tutor him, there had been no reason for Lissa to think he might not be telling the truth about his motives….
Stop it, she thought. That was all over. Her days as the frump were long past. If anything, she should thank Kurt Callahan, because in a convoluted way he’d inspired her to lose the frizzy hair and the bulky sweaters and make herself into an entirely new woman….
Yeah, right, she thought dryly. Keep talking, Lissa, and maybe you’ll convince yourself that a one-night stand with him was a good thing.
Still, she wasn’t about to let herself overreact now; she was bigger than that, and running into him again wasn’t going to change anything.
So what if he was even better-looking now than he’d been in college, with his crisp black hair and unusual blue-gray eyes, his youthful arrogance mellowed by time and success into something more like self-confidence? It didn’t matter to her anymore.
But why couldn’t that encounter last night have been the end of it? She’d been proud of the way she’d handled herself in the cloakroom standoff. She hadn’t lost her temper or embarrassed herself. She hadn’t even needed to publicly rub his nose in the facts in order to feel good about telling him to get lost. But now that she was face to face with him once more…. Now that he had remembered her….
Hannah’s offer had seemed so simple on the drive from the student union to her house. And it was so perfectly logical. You need a job, Hannah had said. And I need some help for a while. We can be a team. What difference did it make whether the woman offering to hire her was Kurt Callahan’s grandmother? He wouldn’t know anything about it.
Only here he was—in the flesh. And what nice flesh it was, too, Lissa thought. Today he wasn’t wearing a suit, but khakis and a polo shirt, and the clothing showed him off nicely. He was tanned and athletic without being showy—no overdone bulges of biceps. In fact, he was perfectly proportioned, without a flaw anywhere to draw the eye. He might be a little more muscular than he’d been six years ago, a little more imposing. But even then he’d been pretty much perfect—strong and hard and clean and intoxicatingly attractive.
In short, she admitted, he’d been simply intoxicating. He’d acted on her senses like a rich old brandy, sweeping away every inhibition, every fragment of common sense…. He’d used his charm, he’d used her, just so he could win a bet.
What a shame it was that Kurt Callahan’s flaws were on the inside. He hadn’t had a conscience six years ago, and she doubted very much that he’d grown one since.
Well, she’d just have to work around him, that was all. Surely he wouldn’t be staying in Minneapolis for long—a man with his responsibilities? And Hannah’s plan was not only simple, logical and sensible, it was the best deal Lissa was likely to find.
How it had come about, however, was nothing short of fantastic, when Lissa stopped to think about it. She’d simply been doing her job, taking care of two elderly lunch patrons. She’d seen them many times before in the union’s dining room—they were simply Mrs. Wilder and Mrs. Meadows, and she treated them as she did every other patron.
Then Mrs. Meadows had left, and Hannah Wilder had sat still a little longer, drinking her coffee and chatting as Lissa cleared the table and brought her receipt. And then she’d got up from her chair, reeled, and almost fallen….
Lissa still didn’t quite understand why she’d actually told Hannah about the money which was missing from her room. More than twelve hours after the discovery she’d still been a bit dazed over the realization that she’d been robbed, of course. But why she’d actually confided in Hannah—who had enough problems of her own just then—was beyond her.
However, Hannah had asked her to sit down for a few minutes and keep her company while she recovered from her spell of lightheadedness. And then she’d looked straight into Lissa’s eyes and said, “What’s troubling you, my dear?”
It was the first time in months that anyone had treated Lissa with such obvious personal concern. One thing had led to another, the words had come tumbling out…and here she was.
“Driver?” Kurt said.
Lissa pulled herself back to the moment.
“Personal assistant,” Hannah corrected. She came down the last few stairs, holding tightly to the railing. “If you insist on discussing it, Kurt, let’s go back into the living room and have a seat.”
Kurt was instantly beside her, offering an arm. “I’m sorry, Gran—I forgot you weren’t feeling well.”
“It was only a momentary weak spell, and it has passed. I got up too suddenly, that’s all. I’m certainly not an invalid.”
Lissa couldn’t stop herself. “But if your blood pressure is likely to behave like a jumping jack, you shouldn’t be driving.”
Kurt shot a look at Lissa. “I can’t disagree with that—though it sounds self-serving when it’s you who’s saying it. I suppose you’re the one who suggested the whole plan?”
“The only thing she suggested was that I see a doctor,” Hannah said placidly. “I don’t think the idea of a driver would have occurred to Lissa at all. Since she doesn’t have a car herself, she doesn’t think in those terms.”
Kurt was starting to look like a thundercloud. “You don’t have a car? Do you even have a driver’s license?”
“All students do,” Hannah put in. “I understand there’s some rule about not being able to go into a bar without one.”
You’re not helping matters, Hannah. Lissa put her chin up and looked squarely at Kurt. “I have a perfectly valid driver’s
