Colt’s gaze hadn’t moved from her face. There was so many ways he wanted to answer that question. So many wrong ways. “It gets more complicated then. You move from being a patient to being an employee.” His head gave an almost imperceptible shake. “Also a no-go area.”
She took a deep breath. “That takes us back to the three-week wait.”
It was logical. It made sense. But he so didn’t want to wait three weeks to get his hands on Selena. He wanted to reach across the table and grab her right now, rip her shirt off, and send those damn buttons scattering all around them. Did she really want to wait?
She turned her chair slightly, stretched out her legs, and crossed them. He was conscious of her as she watched his gaze follow the length of her leg to the raised hemline of her dress. Oh, she was good.
She picked up her glass and stared out the window. “Rules, rules. What’s the old saying? Rules are made to be broken?” She was playing with fire here. “There’s always an exception to rules.”
Colt leaned forward. “Such as?”
“Well, let’s remember I’m a temporary employee.” She ran her finger around the edge of her glass. “Are the rules for temporary employees identical to the ones for permanent employees?” She gave a little smile. “On second thought, I’m not an employee at all—you’re not paying me a salary. I guess that makes me a volunteer.”
Their eyes met.
The place was sizzling. And it was nothing to do with the temperature.
“I guess I’ll need to look into that.” His voice was measured.
“I guess you will.” She nodded her head.
His pager sounded and he glanced down, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry Selena. I’m needed upstairs.” He stood up and straightened his jacket. “I’ll take out your stitches later, okay?”
She gave a brief nod and he strode across the restaurant as quickly as he could.
Three weeks? Not a chance.
…
One week later, her wound was almost healed and the clinic was having a small revival. Colt’s phone calls had clearly worked, because she couldn’t keep up with the onslaught of phone calls coming that morning. “Hold on and I’ll check the availability for you.”
Selena flicked up the screen for the cottage reservations and nearly had an apoplexy. Every single one was red for the week in question. Booked solid.
All the tiny hairs on her arms stood on instant alert. Her breath caught in her throat. Where on earth would she stay?
“Give me a second, please,” she murmured to the client at the end of the phone who’d decided having liposuction next week was a life or death matter.
She flicked through the bookings. There was no way she’d done all these. Her initials were next to three of them, but there was another set of initials next to the others. Her heart clenched. Helen’s personal assistant. She must have made the bookings.
And it wasn’t as if she knew Selena was currently living between the cottages, so she had no reason to keep one free. This was a business after all, and the clinic was here to make money.
It was almost as if a cold wind blasted across her neck and her palms start to sweat. Her heart thudded in her chest and her mouth was instantly dry. Where was a bottle of water when she needed it? This was a nightmare. Where on earth would she stay? Maybe she could put the client off—temporarily, of course.
Selena spoke into the phone. “I’m sorry about that. We have no availability for next week. Can I give you the following week?”
She listened to the wailing at the end of the phone and resisted the temptation to slam it down. If only liposuction were the only thing she had to worry about.
She was going to have to bring all her things over to the spa. But where could she stash them? There was a cupboard on this floor for admin supplies but people were in and out of it all day. Maybe the lockers downstairs—but the clients used them, too. This was a nightmare.
The noise finally ended. “So the fourteenth is suitable? No problem. I’ll book you in.” She clicked on one of the cottages to book it for three days and then looked around her.
Helen must have been deadly serious about them working overtime to fill in the gaps in the clinic finances. She’d booked three extra surgeries, using up the cottages and making the staff work later into the evening.
How was Selena going to make herself inconspicuous when everyone would be around her? Her skin prickled, the hairs standing on end. Where on earth would she sleep?
And next week was only three days away. Could it get any worse? Yes, it could.
“Hi, Selena, what’s that you’re doing?” Josh Ridgeway had schmoozed his way across the room, talking to two nurses and a filing clerk and was now perched at the edge of her desk, peering over her shoulder as she tried to input the work hours for the salaries.
“What I’m supposed to be doing.” She clicked out of the file she was working on. There was nothing she hated more than someone reading over her shoulder.
She glanced at the sheet in front of her. According to it, Josh had spent fifty hours at work. Selena was lucky if she’d seen him for ten of those. She blinked at his pay rate. He got almost double any of the spa staff wages, all for having no discernible skills.
“I’m inputting the staff hours. Can I double-check your time sheet? I didn’t think you were here last Wednesday.” It was the most professional voice she could find, because she knew for sure that Josh hadn’t set foot in the clinic last Wednesday.
There was the tiniest flicker of fear. This was Helen’s grandson. She was pretty sure the woman already didn’t like her. But Selena was only working here to pay back what she owed. She was only calling things as she saw them, and Josh was an expensive waste of space. It was a pity she couldn’t actually say that to him. Because she was beginning to think he was a con artist, too.
She took a steadying breath. She’d asked a valid question. Nothing more. Nothing less.
His eyes narrowed, and he thrust the paperwork back toward her. “Just fill in what’s on the sheet.”
“Are you sure?” She kept her voice steady. She wasn’t going to call him a liar outright. But she wanted him to know she was on to him.
Why should he get away with putting in fake hours because he was Helen’s grandson?
She widened her eyes and tried to act innocent but looked him straight in the eye as she said the words. “I’m new at all this. And I have a responsibility to put the correct information into the system. I don’t want to do anything that could be regarded as fraudulent.” She pulled another paper out of the file. “I see you’ve got some expense claims in, too. Do you have receipts for these?”
“Why would I need receipts?”
She tilted her head to the side and explained, “I was given a strict list of instructions that I’m supposed to follow for every employee. There has to be proof for all expenses. The clinic needs them for tax returns.” She tried her best to look innocent. “No receipt. No expense claim.”
Josh stood up. “Put the damn expenses through. Just do your job.” He looked over his shoulder and then raised his voice. “Oh, that’s right, aren’t you working here to pay off a debt? Maybe you should worry about that instead of sticking your nose into other people’s business.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice.
Her chest burned. The little git was trying to humiliate her. The guy who was trying to claim for working fifty hours when he hardly worked at all, was trying his best to embarrass her.
He’d clearly never met her before.
“Believe it or not, Josh, I’ve got an MBA from Brown. And I also majored in accounts. Whilst my home finances might not be perfect, any work I do, is. And any work I do for this clinic, no matter what I’m paid, will be impeccable.”
Rage flitted across his eyes when he opened his mouth to speak. “Listen to me—”
“Is there a problem here?” Colt’s voice split through the tension-ridden air, cutting off Josh midsentence.
“No. No pro
blem,” said Selena quickly as she pretended not to notice the puce color Josh’s face had turned. “I’m just trying to do the job I’m supposed to.” She smiled sweetly. “And I was reminding Josh he needs receipts for any expenses he claims; otherwise it can’t go through the business.”
Colt gave her half a smile. “Sounds as if Selena’s completely on top of things.”
Josh’s face was scarlet and sweat was beading on his brow. But he knew better than to try and throw his weight around in front of Colt.
Selena took the opportunity to start tapping away wildly on the keyboard. “You’ll get back to me on those receipts then?” she called over her shoulder.
Josh let out an expletive and stormed out, leaving Colt and Selena smiling at each other.
“I love it when people are happy at work, don’t you, Colt?”
Cot leaned forward and tapped the calendar that was sitting on her desk. “I’ve got more to think about,” he said huskily, “two weeks and counting.”
Ever since he’d removed her stitches, the temperature between the two of them had risen. Every time they were in a room together the air practically buzzed with electricity. And although he hadn’t touched her, it felt as if they were both counting down the days until she didn’t work here anymore.
A shiver of expectation ran down her spine as she watched his retreating back. “Two weeks,” she murmured. It seemed like a lifetime.
In two weeks time he’d forget about her. Any minute now she’d have to confess to having nowhere to stay and virtually no money whatsoever. She’d mailed a check to Mark yesterday, and although she’d felt a certain amount of pride at paying a little of the money back, if she could get her hands on the mailman right now, she’d whip the envelope straight from his hands.
Things were getting desperate here. This was all a facade. Sooner or later Colt would realize what a faker she was.
And then?
He wouldn’t be interested in her at all. Of that, she had no doubt.