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“Okay.” He stepped around her to go back to the house.
She brushed off her hands. “What were you doing anyway?”
He shoved his fists in his pockets, adding to the bulk at his hips. “Taking a break.”
“From what? You’ve got an easy job.”
“Sometimes. It’s a little busy now.”
“Yeah, it looks like you’re real busy.”
He didn’t tell her to fuck off, which she deserved for being so rude, but she hated having all these people running around her house. And that whole thing yesterday in Bram’s office with Georgie and the camera had thrown her off. She should have walked right out, but…
She tried to make up for being a bitch. “Bram probably wouldn’t mind if you used the pool once in a while, as long as you don’t do it too much.”
“I don’t have time to swim.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and walked away from her toward the house.
She didn’t swim anymore, either, but she’d loved the water when she was a kid. He was probably embarrassed about the way he looked in a suit. Or maybe only women felt that way.
“It’s private back here,” she called out. “Nobody would see you.”
He went into the house without answering her.
She retrieved the net from behind the waterfall rocks and began to skim for leaves. Bram had a pool service, but she liked making the water all clean and smooth. Bram told her she could swim whenever she wanted, but she never did.
She tossed down the net. Until Monday, she’d been so happy here, but now, with all these strangers invading her space, the bad feelings were coming back.
Half an hour later, she entered Georgie’s upstairs office. A big, kidney-shaped desk, matching wall unit, and a couple of streamlined chairs upholstered in spice-colored fabric printed with a tree branch design made up the new furnishings. Everything was too modern for the house, and she didn’t like it.
Aaron had his back to her, talking on the phone. “Ms. York isn’t giving interviews yet, but I’m sure she’d be more than happy to contribute to your charity auction…No, she’s already donated her Skip and Scooter scripts to the Museum of Broadcast Communications, but every year she designs some Christmas ornaments for groups like yours, and each one is personally autographed…”
He sounded like a different person on the phone, sure of himself and not so geeky. She set a turkey wrap on the desk. She’d made it with a fat-free tortilla, lean meat, sliced tomato, a few spinach leaves, a sliver of avocado, and carrot sticks on the side. Dude needed to get a clue.
He took in the wrap as he finished his conversation. When he hung up, she said, “Don’t count on this every day.” She picked up the new issue of Flash with Bram and Georgie on the cover and sat on the corner of his desk to thumb through it. “Go ahead and eat.”
He picked up the turkey wrap and took a bite. “You got any mayo?”
“No.” She carried a perfume sample to her nose and sniffed. “How old are you?”
He had good manners and he swallowed before he answered. “Twenty-six.”
Six years older than her, but he seemed younger. “Did you go to college?”
“University of Kansas.”
“A lot of people who go to college don’t know shit.” She studied his face and decided somebody had to tell him. “Your glasses are lame. No offense.”
“What’s wrong with them?”
“They’re ugly. You should get contacts or something.”
“Contacts are too much trouble.”
“You have nice eyes. You should show them off. At least get decent frames.” His eyes were bright blue and thick-lashed, the only decent thing about him.
He frowned, which made his cheeks look as though they were swallowing the rest of his face. “I don’t think a person with holes in her eyebrows has room to criticize anybody else.”
She loved her pierced eyebrows. They made her feel tough, like a rebel who didn’t give a damn about society. “I really care what you think.”
