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I push the pillow away, annoyed that somehow it dragged Maxwell into the forefront of my mind. Like I told Nayala, I like my uncomplicated life. I like my independence. I don’t need a pillow—or a person—to hang onto.
Chapter 5
Maxwell
As I enter the lobby of the high-rise, the smell of coffee assaults my sinuses. Again, I thought I was going to make it to my office without dropping by the coffee kiosk, but that’s just not going to be possible.
The heart wants what it wants, after all.
I stop short when Clarissa rounds the corner, her eyes wide and startled when she sees me, barely avoiding a collision. The beverages slosh in her fingers dangerously, practically tipping over the edge.
“Oh!” she exclaims, her lips rounding dramatically. “Jeez! Not again!”
“You know, if you would get a lid for your coffee, you could probably cut spillage in half,” I scold her jokingly.
Saying nothing, she raises her eyebrows and cocks her head, then extends one arm toward me. The froth of the cappuccino swirls invitingly against the rim of the cup.
“Wait, is that for me?” I smile.
Lips stubbornly pressed together, she just nods curtly. I take the cup from her fingers, momentarily stunned. I guess I was expecting her chilly demeanor to come right back.
Maybe it was the tapas that finally broke the ice. Those small plates can be magical.
It takes every ounce of self-restraint that I possess to keep from making a comment about the day I met her. When she spilled that cappuccino across my trousers. When her trembling fingers brushed the outline of my cock through my pants, springing it into life. There is just no professional way to bring that up. I can’t do it. I have to hold that back. No matter what.
So we just get on the elevator and shoot toward the thirty-fourth floor without saying anything. I guess that is the best we can do.
It’s all right. It’s a start.
It makes working with her a lot easier. Once in a while she smiles. She asks questions. She lets me ask questions, too, which makes everything easier. We make a good team, and Lou notices it too.
A few days later, I get an email from my mother that is both a good opportunity and a fairly amusing excuse to get out of town.
“Something funny?” comes a voice from my doorway.
Clarissa saunters in and sets the box of my new business cards on the corner of my desk. She purses her lips and scans the surface of my work area, checking things over. She’s wearing a frilly lilac blouse tucked into slim, charcoal trousers.
“Do you know who Sunny Regales is?” I ask her.
Her eyes widen. “The movie star? The one with the hats and the monkey? The crazy one?”
“The very same.”
Clarissa narrows her eyes and gazes out the window over my shoulder, the tip of her tongue pressed against her upper lip thoughtfully. “Didn’t she go to prison? And then escape from prison? How did she die?”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Oh, she’s never going to die. She’s a friend of my mother’s, and she wants to sell her cottage in Lake Geneva. Would you like to go?”
Clarissa takes a breath and holds it, then shakes her head in disbelief. “Go where?”
“To the cottage… To Lake Geneva. We can go for the weekend, if you’re free? You’ll love the place. It’s utterly insane.”
Clarissa opens her mouth, plainly excited, then seems to instantly retreat. Her gaze clouds over.
“It’s not really commercial property,” she waffles. “I mean, I don’t think Lou is going to be okay with that.”
There it is. My ace in the hole.
“He’ll be fine with it. They used to have a thing.”
