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"No, but she lit out of here like a bear was on her tail." Her shrewd eyes held my gaze without flinching. "I suspect you owe her an apology, and you can do that yourself."
Hmph. I wasn’t some child to be scolded. "I did. Last night," I mumbled.
"Oh, well that's better then." She smiled at me.
I rolled my eyes. "I have a mother, thank you very much."
"And a fine woman she is. She gets you after hours. In here you get me. Deal and chill."
I choked back a laugh. Dressed in classic pearls and orthopedic style shoes, it was sometimes hard to reconcile the granny-like figure to the woman who stood before me like a brick wall trying to use street talk.
I shoved my hands into my pockets. "Then you'll be pleased to know after I apologized I offered to take her to dinner."
She propped her elbows on her desk, interlocked her fingers and rested her chin on them. "And?"
"And what?"
I tossed my head back. "She said, no, okay?" I hissed.
She pursed her lips and nodded. "Of course, she did."
I wonder how much of a severance check I'd have to pay out if I fired her. "What do you mean? I'm a good catch."
Her smirk twisted as she shifted her jaw to the side.
"Don't stop now," I said, sarcastically. "I'm on pins and needles for your advice."
She glanced around, then leaned forward. "You're not used to a woman like Ms. Hart. You can't just crook your finger and expect her to come around. She's smart enough to know that you don't have anything to offer her other than a good time in the sack."
I almost choked on my spit. What happened to the sweet granny figure who brought me homemade frozen meals and kept my schedule and files in order?
"I have plenty to off—"
Ellie waved her hand at me. "I don't mean your bank account. Those floozies you date only want someone who can decorate them in designer clothes and pretty jewelry and keep them sexually satisfied. You need to pay more attention to what's between a woman's ears than between her legs."
Did she just say what I think she did? My ears grew warm.
"I guarantee the equipment is all the same down there. You need someone to stimulate you in other ways."
"Why, Ellie, I'm shocked." And I was, too. Mortified might be a better word.
She rolled her eyes at me. "You think it was that different when I was your age? It's hard to believe now, I know, but all the young men used to come sniffing around me once upon a time. It was flattering. I enjoyed the attention. But when all is said and done, who's the person you want to come home to at the end of a long day? The one who grabs your wallet and heads out on the town to have fun or the one who asks about your day and then sits down to listen? Of all the men I had to choose from, I chose my Freddy because he listened when I talked, he was interested in my thoughts. And I did the same for him." She smiled smugly. "Of course, it didn't hurt that he knew what he was doing between the sheets, too."
Oh, God, make her stop!
"You need someone who sustains you, not drains you. Maybe even someone like that Ms. Hart. She seemed like good people." She started typing again. "Seemed like she got to you, too," she said under her breath.
It seemed like an appropriate time to end this uncomfortable conversation. I headed to my office. "I'm not looking to fall in love and get married, Ellie," I called over my shoulder. "Besides, you already turned me down."
Sitting down at my desk, I blew out a frustrated breath. Ellie's words were closer to the target than I was comfortable admitting. There was something about Grace Hart that caught my interest. Yes, she was pretty. Beautiful, in fact, although there didn't seem to be an ounce of pretentiousness about her. And she made me laugh. For some reason, I kept coming back to that.
But beyond that, there was something about her I couldn't quite put my finger on. She was charming in a straightforward way, not naive or innocent, but more like a refreshingly honest and optimistic outlook on life. She was everything I wasn't, and instead of a turn-off, it was a turn-on.
But she'd turned me down. That should be enough. End of conversation.
A ping alerted me to a new email. I swung back around to my desk. In my inbox was an email from my outspoken secretary with my new travel arrangements and a lone address beneath it. I didn't need a name to know whose it was. Sighing, I printed off the schedule and grabbed some new folders to take with me on my trip.
Ellie wasn't at her desk when I left for the airport, but the envelope I'd tossed there earlier was propped up neatly in her box. Pausing, I stared at it several seconds.
