BY BREAK TIME that afternoon, Angie knew she may as well take a few minutes to have a soft drink with her coworkers. Heaven knows she was getting little enough done that day.
Gay and Darla were sitting at their usual crowded table when Angie entered the breakroom. She carried her diet soft drink over to them, sliding into an empty chair. The others at the table seemed less surprised to see her this time than they had on Friday, even smiled with cautious welcome.
“How’s Mr. Wakefield today?” Darla asked curiously. “Is he completely over his flu? No one has seen him come out of his office except briefly this morning.”
“He’s trying to catch up,” Angie explained. She smiled wryly. “One weekend off and you’d think he’d been gone for a month.”
“Is he still being a bear from his illness?” asked the blonde who’d expressed such terror of Rhys on Friday. Angie had learned then that her name was Priscilla.
Strict professionalism and her sense of humor warred for a moment, and then Angie chuckled. “Well, let’s say he’s still intent on having his own way,” she answered tactfully, thinking of his insistence that she call him by his first name in private.
“So what else is new?” Gay murmured into her coffee cup.
“Exactly.” Angie’s smile deepened.
“Do you really like working so closely with him?” Priscilla asked curiously, unable to conceal her horrified fascination.
Angie thought about the question for a moment. Did she like working with Rhys? She wasn’t sure she could be completely objective about her answer. This was no longer just a job, and he no longer just an employer. But…
“Yes, I do,” she admitted, knowing she was being completely honest. She genuinely liked working with Rhys and, if she was even more candid, she’d admit that she actually liked Rhys. She decided there was no need to carry honesty that far. She knew how quickly office gossip could develop.
One of the women had been on vacation the week before. She’d brought photographs of her children posed in front of the various tourist attractions they had seen on their car trip. Angie was included when the photographs were passed around to be dutifully admired. Making the appropriate noises of appreciation, she realized that she was finally becoming accepted by her co-workers. Though she couldn’t help wondering what would be said about her if the truth was known about her father, she was still pleased by the tentative camaraderie that was developing. She found herself hoping it would last. She’d missed having friends, even if her former friends had proven to be such a major disappointment.
ANGIE WASN’T SURPRISED when Rhys worked late that evening, nor when he made it clear that he expected her to stay to help him. Immersed in business, they worked side by side as they had from the beginning. Though Angie found it progressively easier to say his name as the day passed, and Rhys continued to use her full first name the few times he called her anything, there were no more uncomfortably intimate interludes. If it hadn’t been for an occasional clash of glances that lingered too long, Angie would have been convinced that everything was the way it had always been between them. Employer and employee. Nothing more.
Finally breaking away, hungry, tired and emotionally drained, Angie climbed behind the wheel of her car only to have the engine utterly refuse to start. Cursing beneath her breath, she turned the key several more times, frantically pumping the gas. The grating, grinding sound slowed to a series of clicks and, finally, to silence.
Angie brought both hands down hard on the steering wheel. “Damn!”
Of all days for this to have happened. As late as it was, everyone else was gone, other than Rhys and a couple of security guards. Asking Rhys for assistance was out of the question. She decided to approach one of the gua
rds.
But the matter was taken out of her hands when she climbed from her car only to turn and find herself face-to-face with Rhys.
“What’s the problem?” he asked.
“My car won’t start,” she answered reluctantly, clutching her purse tightly in front of her. “It’s been threatening to do this for several weeks, but this time it’s serious, I’m afraid.”
“You’ve known something was wrong with your car and you haven’t done anything about it?” Rhys demanded immediately, planting his hands on his hips beneath his spread suit jacket. “What if your car had broken down in a rough neighborhood at this hour? What if you’d been stranded on the highway? That wasn’t very smart of you.”
Biting her tongue to keep from answering him in the same tone, Angie only nodded curtly. “I suppose you’re right.”
He jerked his head toward his car, parked in its usual space not far from the one she’d been assigned. “Come on. I’ll take you home. We’ll do something about your car tomorrow.”
We? She decided to let that slide for the moment. As for his not-so-gracious offer of a lift, she decided to accept that. It was the least he could do after she’d nursed him back to health, she told herself. “Thank you. I’d appreciate it”
Closing the passenger door of his car behind Angie, Rhys rounded the sleek hood and slid behind the wheel. He shoved the key into the ignition, started the engine, then turned his head to ask his passenger where she lived, only to be stopped short when his gaze fell on her breasts. Even through the fabric of her sensibly cut blue dress, the soft mounds were clearly outlined by the shoulder strap of the safety belt she’d fastened.
He cleared his throat and quickly dropped his eyes. No, bad move. Now he found himself staring at her surprisingly long, slender legs, which she’d crossed at the knees, where her full skirt ended. Damn, but she was beautiful.
“Where do you live?” he asked more gruffly than he’d intended, turning his eyes firmly to the front of the car. He hadn’t expected the answer she gave. He passed her neighborhood every time he drove to the office or back home. Following her directions, he guided the car to a small frame house less than half a mile off his usual path.
The house surprised him. Aging and visibly in need of a few repairs, it seemed totally out of character for his glamorous assistant with her decidedly upper-class speech and behavior. “Lived here long?” he inquired mildly, stopping in the short driveway.
“Since I moved to Birmingham,” she answered. “This was my grandparents’ home for many years. My grandmother passed away last year and left me the house.”
Rhys noted the pleasure on her face and in her voice as she looked at the timeworn structure. She obviously had some very strong ties to this house. Funny, he hadn’t expected that she was the type to be so sentimental. Funny, too, how her fondness for the little house drew him to her all the more.