After downing another shot of Scotch, Lance plopped onto the couch. He turned the television to a news channel and opened his laptop. He felt too restless to sleep. If it were earlier in the day, he would have gone for a run. Instead he’d settle for immersing himself in work.
An hour later his phone beeped with an incoming text message. He checked it absently, then sat straight up when he realized who it was from.
Sorry about tonight. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. Thank you for offering to help me.
Lance put the phone down beside him and pinched the bridge of his nose. He shouldn’t have gone to see her in the first place. If he were smart, he’d stay the hell away from her. He groaned. Ten years hadn’t changed much about how he felt about her. She was still a dangerous temptation. He picked up the phone and texted back, I shouldn’t have driven over without asking if you wanted company.
He guessed at her next words. She would smooth the situation over. Like him, she avoided emotional confrontations. That shared trait had probably been the biggest barrier to them working through whatever the hell had happened during that rollercoaster of a week in Nantucket.
That and the fact that we were so young.
Young and self-absorbed. Me, at least. I don’t know who the hell she was back then. She only let me in that one time.
I shouldn’t have ignored your calls. I’m interviewing for a job tomorrow, and I guess I’m nervous.
Lance swallowed hard. What kind of job?
Clay Landon offered me a job as his personal assistant. I’ve been trying unsuccessfully to find a job in the art world. This might be good for me.
Don’t do it. Don’t ask. I’m starting a new project for the city. They want to revive the area around the capitol building and make it into a place where the community feels comfortable gathering for events and leisure. I could always use someone who knows what regular people like.
When Willa didn’t immediately answer, he reread his last text to her. Shit, that came out wrong. Lance had meant it as a compliment. Willa wasn’t like the women in his social circle. She wasn’t living off Daddy’s money and spending her days deciding which diamond matched best with which outfit. She was grounded. Levelheaded. The longer she went without replying, the more he felt like an ass. I have time tomorrow morning if you’d like to meet and discuss any openings at my office.
The moment it took her to respond felt like an eternity. Thanks, but I have to pass on that one. Goodnight, Lance.
Fuck.
Goodnight, Willa.
Chapter Five
Willa stepped out of the taxi and onto the street. She clutched a folder to her chest and double-checked that she had her purse. After paying the driver she took a deep, fortifying breath and headed up the cement path that led to Dax’s Boston office building. Clay had told her it was easiest for him to have their meeting there.
Her phone rang before she made it inside the building. She paused, dug through her purse for the phone, and was instantly filled with a mix of irritation and relief that it was her sister. Lexi had successfully avoided her since their argument, and it was the longest Willa had gone without speaking to her sister. Lexi had come home each night, but it had been late, and she’d left earlier than normal every morning.
“You’ve got an interview with Clay Landon, you hot shit.” Leave it to Lexi to act as if nothing had happened between them.
Not wanting to argue and make herself even more nervous, Willa played along. “I do. Here’s hoping I get it. The salary he’s offering will make paying rent a breeze.”
“You don’t have to move out, Willa. Actually, Tessa is with Dean so much right now she said her apartment is always vacant. I might crash there for a while.”
Breathe. One thing at a time. “We don’t have to make any fast decisions.”
Instead of addressing her last comment, Lexi said, “Kenzi told me about your interview about five minutes ago, or I would have called you sooner. Tell me you’re not wearing one of your frumpy business suits.”
Willa looked at her reflection in the glass door of the building and smoothed her hand down the skirt of the very outfit her sister was referring to. “I am dressed to be taken seriously.”
“If you want to be taken seriously, turn your ass around, run back to our place, grab anything out of my closet and show him what he’d be saying no to if he turns you down today.”
Willa rolled her eyes skyward. “First, that would make me late.”
“He won’t care if you pick the right dress.”
“Second, I’m interviewing for a job, not a romp on his desk.”
With an impatient sound, Lexi said, “Do you know how many jobs I’ve gotten that I wasn’t qualified for simply because I choose the right outfit for the interview?”
“And how many of those jobs lasted?”
“Who cares? They paid me, didn’t they? My bank never cared if I had one employer or ten. The landlord never did either. You’re the only one who thinks that my way isn’t good enough.”
“It’s not like that—” Willa sighed. Maybe it is. Willa stepped out of the doorway when several men walked by in suits. They didn’t notice her at all. She gave her reflection another look. Her hair was tied back. She’d worn subtle makeup. “I’m not supposed to look like I’m going dancing. It’s a job interview, for God’s sake.”
“Be careful with a man like Clay. Don’t take anything he says seriously.”
“What does that mean?”
Lexi sighed. “I mean if he compliments you or asks you out say no. Don’t let him confuse you. I liked him when I met him, but I’m not so sure now. I don’t trust him, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Have a little faith in me, Lexi. I’m not as naïve as you think I am.”
“Good. Then get in there, get that job, and get out the minute it becomes weird. You don’t owe him anything just because you agree to work for him. Remember that.”
“Okay.”
“And if you have your blouse buttoned up to your neck like a nun, please undo the top two.”
Willa touched the top button of her blouse, which was securely closed. “Why would I want to do that?”
Lexi sighed in disgust. “I give up. Good luck with your interview.”
“Thanks.” Not sure what else to say, Willa hung up and turned off her phone, placing it back in her purse. She raised her chin in determination and walked into the building. I’m going to get this job and not because of what I’m wearing.
Once inside, she entered the elevator with several businessmen and pressed the number for her floor. She fiddled with the button near her neck. I’m not the prude Lexi thinks I am.
Am I?
I button my shirt up this high because it’s more comfortable this way.
If I wanted to show cleavage, I could. It wouldn’t bother me at all. She undid the first button and then the second. With a touch of defiance, she spread the V of the neckline open and smiled. She glanced down. The edge of her bra was still tastefully concealed.
When she raised her eyes she caught a man next to her watching her with interest. He looked about her age, but pale and soft like a man who spent too many hours at a desk. She blushed and looked away. He probably thinks I’m stripping.
I don’t care. His opinion of me doesn’t matter either.
Willa undid the third button of her shirt. It brought the V of the neckline down to the very tip of her bra. If she leaned the wrong way, she’d likely give someone quite a glimpse of her—she made a face as she remembered she’d worn a practical white cotton bra.
She raised her eyes and caught the man across from her still watching her. She glared at him. He looked away. She refastened the third button, but left the top two undone.
I’m not a prude.
Willa was relieved to step out of the elevator when it came to the correct floor. She approached the receptionist and gave her name. “I’m here to see Mr. Landon.”
The young woman gave
her a puzzled look. “Do you have an appointment? He’s in with Mr. Marshall at the moment.”
“I have an interview.”
The woman’s eyebrows rose and fell. “I’ll see if he’s available.” She held a pen above a piece of paper and looked at Willa pointedly.
“Willa Chambers.”
The woman nodded, wrote the name down, then picked up the phone on her desk. “Mr. Marshall? I have a Willa Chambers here. She said she has an interview with Mr. Landon.” She hung up the phone and waved a hand in the direction of a circle of chairs. “He’ll be just a few minutes.”
