He stroked his short beard, and I gazed at the movement of his long fingers, recalling how his scruff had felt against my skin.
“Fine,” he agreed, pushing the list my way. “But I told you, I need to okay all changes.”
I rolled my eyes. “You just did.”
He opened his mouth, then shut it as if deciding not to argue with me.
That was a first.
“Maybe you can print out a list of deposits tomorrow. I’ll update the books and keep calling the rest,” I said, pushing forward. “And here’s some quotes for a decent computer. Look them over.” I tapped the top page. “This one is a great deal and is on sale. And there’s a newer software package that would work well for you. It would cut down a lot of time since it will track the deposits and payments after I set it all up.”
“All right.” He cleared his throat and tapped the table. “Looks good.”
I tilted my head. “Thanks,” I stated dryly.
“You’re a hard worker,” he said grudgingly.
“And you’re a hardhead. Period.” I sniffed and got out of the chair, going into the kitchen.
With a low growl, he followed me. I spun on my heel, meeting his glare with one of my own.
“What?”
He crowded me against the counter. “I was paying you a compliment.”
“You almost choked saying it. I promise I won’t get a swelled head if you say something nice and mean it, Maxx.”
His expression softened, just a small thaw, but I saw it.
“I did mean it,” he said. “I just don’t know how to do this, Charly.”
I frowned.
It was his turn. “What?”
“You called me Red earlier. Just before you kissed me.”
“You kissed me back.”
“I like kissing you,” I whispered. “I like it when you call me Red.”
He shook his head, even as he lowered his mouth closer to mine. “We can’t do this.”
“I know,” I replied, aching to feel his mouth on mine again.
His lips were right there. Barely a breath between us. All I had to do was tilt my chin and our mouths would connect.
Except the screen door in the mudroom opened and a voice called out.
“Maxx? You here?”
Maxx stepped back so quickly, I almost fell. He gripped my arms, steadying me, then moved toward the mudroom. “Hey, Walt.”
“You called about helping you with the car?”
Maxx sighed, looking back over his shoulder at me, and he called for Rufus.
Then walked away.
I was too restless after Maxx walked out to stay in the house. I slid the casserole into the oven on low—Maxx could eat it whenever he wanted. Deciding I had worked long enough, I went for a walk, heading down the road. There was little traffic, the area quiet. I marveled at the sounds of nature, the sightings of birds and wild animals—things you never saw or heard in Toronto. I veered closer to the edge of the road as I heard a vehicle behind me, worried as I saw it pull up alongside me. A woman beamed at me from behind the wheel of a truck. Not as large as Maxx’s monster truck, but more manageable, I assumed. She was a small woman with a head of wild gray curls. She pushed up her sunglasses onto her head.
“You must be Charlynn. The redheaded snippet.”
There was no doubt she knew Maxx. He liked to call me that name. “I am,” I responded. “And you are?”
She laughed. “The reason you’re dealing with grumpy Gus down the road. Are you running away from home, too, the way he did yesterday?”
I felt a smirk pull on my lips. I knew he’d left to avoid me. “No, just out exploring.”
“How about a glass of lemonade on my porch instead?”
I paused.
“I’m Mary,” she said, as if that explained everything. “Maxx is like an adopted son to me.” She slid on her sunglasses and peered over the top of them. “A difficult, ornery one most of the time these days.”
Laughing, I stepped into the vehicle. “In that case, then yes, a glass of lemonade would be most welcome.”
“Excellent.”
I settled into the porch swing at Mary’s, a tall glass of lemonade in one hand and a cookie in the other. I munched happily, letting the swing move, enjoying the quiet and the vista until Mary came out, carrying a steaming cup of tea. She sat down on the chair and eyed me frankly.
“You are nothing like the last one. Thank god for that.”
I frowned. “Maxx’s last assistant?”
She snorted, lifting her tea. “Sure, we can call that thieving backstabber an assistant. Usually, I simply refer to her as The Tramp.”
I choked on my lemonade, trying not to laugh. “Yowsers.” Swallowing, I cleared my throat. “I take it you know Maxx well?”
“Yes. His mother and I were great friends.”
I was careful as I spoke. “I don’t know much about him, to be honest. I only started working for him yesterday.”