One Night With Her Boss

After a few moments, he shook his head. “I don’t think so. I need to talk to Michael Palmer, but I haven’t been able to reach him in two days.”

“He just got married. He’s on his honeymoon until next week.”

“Oh. I guess he’s out then. Why didn’t someone tell me?”

“I didn’t know you were trying to reach him. If you’d put all your calls through me like I’ve suggested, I could keep track of them for you.”

He angled her a very particular look.

“I’m not bossing,” she said, hiding a smile at his expression. She’d felt awkward and tense before—after their conversation in his office—but they always seemed to fall back to their familiar rhythm once they got back into work. “Just giving you options that might help.”

“Your options are always much appreciated,” he drawled.

She was about to reply but then noticed him shifting in his seat and readjusting one of his legs. “Is your knee bothering you?”

His expression tightened immediately. “It’s fine.”

“We should stop so you can walk around and stretch it out some. It always gets stiff when you’re in the car a long time.”

“I don’t need to stretch it out. It’s fine.”

She felt a familiar rise of frustration. She hated when he did this. Acted like he was invincible. Refused to admit his knee was a physical weakness that he needed to accommodate.

It might just be some sort of macho pride, but it felt to her more like he didn’t think his physical discomfort was important enough to stop working for.

She bit back the response she was close to snapping, about how he would end up back in surgery if he didn’t take better care of his knee. Instead, she said lightly, “Well, I need to go to the bathroom. So can we stop for me?”

He shot her a suspicious look but didn’t object. He pulled into the next convenient stop they passed, an open parking lot near a beach entrance with a small strip of shops and food stands.

Anne didn’t really need to go to the bathroom, but she made a trip to the ladies’ room anyway, since that had been her excuse for getting him to stop.

She glanced at herself in the mirror over the sink as she was washing her hands and was surprised by how nice she looked.

Every once in a while she had that experience—seeing herself and being surprised in a pleasant way. Her dark hair was windblown but framed her face nicely, and her skin looked particularly fresh.

She’d thought she looked so frumpy this morning. She wasn’t sure how she turned pretty over the course of the day.

But she was feeling more attractive than she usually did as she left the restroom and glanced around for Jake.

She found him leaning against a railing that overlooked the boardwalk. He’d spent half of his life on the beach, but he looked out of place right now in his expensive gray suit. He was particularly incongruous with two lemonade slushes in his hands.

She perked up even more as she walked over to him, accepting the one he handed her.

“Thank you. I love these.” She smiled brightly at him as she tasted it.

“I know.” He gave her a slightly dry smile in return that made her grin even wider.

Suddenly washed with self-consciousness, she glanced away, toward the beach. It was a warm day with a blue sky and a strong breeze. The beach wasn’t particularly crowded, though. Not on a Tuesday evening.

When she looked back, she saw that Jake was discreetly stretching his bad knee and wincing very slightly.

She knew his knee was really bothering him today, and the stubborn idiot refused to admit it.

“Let’s walk a little,” she said mildly. “I don’t feel like getting back in the car yet.”

He frowned, little lines appearing between his dark eyebrows. “I told you my knee is just fine.”

“I didn’t say anything about your knee. Don’t be grumpy. It’s so nice here, and we’re not in any sort of hurry to get to San Diego this evening. Why shouldn’t we take a fifteen minute break?”

“Because I know exactly why you’re suggesting the break. You’re not as subtle as you think, you know.”

“So you’re saying you won’t let me take a fifteen minute break before we get back in that car?”