The woman’s was not. “So when you’re done with this stupid thing for work, then you’ll be done with her and call me?” she said in one of those pouty, cajoling voices.
Okay, that Grace really wanted to hear the answer to. But short of elbowing Melissa out of the way and physically entering the office, there was no way to get Jake’s response.
She felt eyes on her and realized that Cole was watching her with a knowing expression. “Guess that answers that question,” he said with a twist of his lips.
Grace didn’t ask what he was talking about. She was pretty sure she didn’t want to know.
Whatever answer Jake gave apparently wasn’t the one the woman wanted to hear, because there was another screech, and then a dull thud as something hit the wall. A stapler, perhaps?
Suddenly the bystanders began to back away, making way for a willowy blonde in five-inch heels and a white sweater dress that could have been—and probably was—straight off the runway.
Grace’s heart sank. A model—of course she would be a model. Jake Malone stooped to dating pear-shaped brunettes when his paycheck depended on it and when it landed him a cushy office.
“Can I get anyone anything?” Jake asked, his voice suddenly louder. “Popcorn? A handkerchief to soak up the drool, Blake?”
“No, I’m good,” said one of the spectators, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-two and was still gaping after the model.
“Great. Then does anyone know where the hell I’d find a broom? And also a replacement picture frame? I’d prefer not to have to tell my sister that the picture of my nephews collided with a harpy’s purse—”
Jake broke off when he turned and saw Grace. She watched the range of reactions with interest. Happiness to see her. Embarrassment that she’d been witness to the scene. Then … guilt? Regret? He seemed to settle on wary. It was the expression of a man who didn’t know how to handle his many women and wasn’t sure that he wanted to.
Well, hell. Grace wasn’t one of his women.
And she wouldn’t start ranting at him, no matter how much he expected her to. She straightened her shoulders.
She would not be jealous.
She would not be insecure.
She wouldn’t be anything other than politely amused at his expense.
At that, 2.0 gave her a nice golf clap.
“Clear out,” Jake barked roughly.
Everyone scattered except for Cole and Grace.
“Sharpe, you are seriously killing me today,” Jake said banging his head softly against the door jam.
Cole held up his hands innocently. “Hey, you should be thanking me. I was ready to pull the fire alarm if she got any hotter.”
Jake scowled. “I hope you were referring to her temper.”
“Of course. Although, those legs—”
Grace cleared her throat.
“Were bony, and gangly, and way too long to be practical,” Cole finished.
She patted his forearm. “You’ve been well trained.”
“You know, I’ve been well trained in other, more interesting areas—”
“And that’s about enough of Cole,” Jake interrupted, grabbing Grace’s arm and pulling her into his office. “See ya, Sharpe.”
“Thought you didn’t care,” Cole said in a loud whisper before wandering back down the hall.
“Didn’t care about what?” Grace asked.