nodded.
“Next time, run it past me, okay?”
Zane rose and nodded. “Promise.”
He walked out of the office.
Nicki watched him go. How had Zane owed the guy? Had he saved his life or something? She knew there was no point in asking. Zane was a master at avoiding topics he didn’t want to talk about.
Jeff turned his attention back to her. “You could at least pretend to be worried that I’m going to fire you.”
“You can’t. Not over this. I work for Zane and he needed my help. My job is to provide backup, not to pass judgment on what he’s doing.”
Jeff sighed. “You’re too smart for your own good.”
“You like that I’m smart.”
“Yeah, well, you’re okay. When you’re not being a pain.”
She grinned. “Is Zane in trouble? Are you going to punish him? Can I watch?”
One corner of Jeff’s mouth twitched. “You two deserve each other. I have a meeting with a client. Someone who’s going to pay us for protecting him and his family.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
She turned back to her computer. Zane walked by and stuck his head in her office. “How about lunch? Mexican. You can buy.”
“I want Chinese and this one is on you, bucko.”
He shook his head. “All right. But only because you’re crabby. Brad must not be putting out this week.”
“His name is Boyd,” she yelled after him.
“Whatever,” he called as he headed down the hall.
She considered chasing after him, but then what? It wasn’t polite to run down her boss.
Nicki turned in her wheelchair and rolled over to the file cabinet under the window. As she flipped through the folders, she told herself that she simply had to get over her crush and pronto. Boyd was a perfectly nice guy, and if not for her weakness for Zane, she might have fallen in love with him. That was what she wanted—to have one great man in her life, to settle down, get married, do the kid thing.
But until she found a way to get over Zane, she was stuck in limbo—wanting what she couldn’t have and having what she didn’t want.
“The Seahawks by three,” Zane said over a plate of Kung Pao Beef and rice.
Nicki grinned. “You lead with your chin. You should know better. I’ll take those three points, and listen to you whine come Monday morning.”
She noted the information on a sheet of paper that listed all the pro football games for the weekend.
Zane knew taking the Seahawks wasn’t smart, but he couldn’t help rooting for the home team. Nicki had no such loyalty. She studied stats, read the sports section and made her choices based on abilities, injuries and who was on a winning streak. Every now and then she took a team because she liked their uniforms, but not often. What killed him was even when she made her choices on something as stupid as team colors, she often won. They were only two weeks into the regulation season and she was already up by three games.
They didn’t bet money. Instead they keep a running total and whoever had the most wins at the end of the season owed the loser a day of slave labor. The previous season he’d had big plans to make her cook, stocking his freezer with homemade dinners. Instead he’d spent nearly eight hours washing and waxing her van. Afterwards, he’d been sore for three days.
“I’m going to have you paint my living room,” she said dreamily as she wrote down the rest of their picks. “I’m thinking of a color-wash treatment that’s going to take at least three coats of paint.”
He shook his head. “Not this time, sweet pea. You’re going to be cooking your heart out.”
“That’s what you said last year. Do we remember what happened instead?”
“I’d rather not.”
She grinned. “You’ve got to start listening to the experts, Zane. They usually know who’s going to win the games.”
“That’s cheating.”
“No, that’s beating your fanny.”
She grinned as she spoke. Laughter danced in her green eyes. He smiled back.
“You’re smart for a girl.”
She picked up her fork and leaned forward. “You left out pretty. Earlier you said I was pretty enough to get some macho, brainless guy with huge muscles.”
He studied her heart-shaped face. With big eyes and a full, sensual mouth, she was more than pretty. Long auburn curls cascaded down her back. Every swaying movement begged a man to run his fingers through them. Put all that on a body that, while not as lush as the women he dated, had all the right curves in exactly the right places and she was a serious contender.
“You’re okay,” he said.
She laughed. “Wait. I want to pause and savor this moment for as long as possible. The wildly extravagant compliment has gone to my head.”
He pointed his fork at her. “Come on, Nicki. You know you’re attractive. Half the guys in this place can’t take their eyes off you.”
“Only half?” She glanced around. “I suppose that’s something.”
He followed her gaze and saw a couple of businessmen in tailored suits giving her the once-over. There were three college guys in the corner. They practically had their mouths hanging open.
“I rest my case,” he said.
“Their attention will last for a long as it takes us to finish our meal and head for the door.”
He frowned. “Because of the chair?”
She shrugged. “Well, duh. What do you think?”
“That you’re crazy. They’re not going to care.”
Nicki being in a wheelchair meant that she was faster than him and more likely to run him over if she was annoyed. But it didn’t make her any less attractive.
“It doesn’t bother Brad,” he said.
“Boyd. And you’re right. It doesn’t. But he’s into substance.”
“I’m not and it doesn’t bother me.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s because we’re friends. You wouldn’t date a woman in a wheelchair.”
He considered the statement. “I would if she had really big breasts.”
Nicki shook her head. “I
