“Just write down what you need and I’ll get it,” he said, wandering back over to us.
I was choking on my words.
Caine took one look at me and his eyes glinted with mischief.
I stood up abruptly. “I’m going to leave now.” Before I commit homicide!
He grinned evilly as Effie stood up, still laughing.
“It was lovely having you, Lexie. You sure are fun.”
Ignoring the devil, I looked at my wisecracking angel. “Thanks, Effie. I had a wonderful time. I hope we can do it again sometime.”
“Oh, sweetie, you come by anytime you want.” She rounded the table and enfolded me in a surprisingly strong hug.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Caine said as Effie pulled back.
“You don’t have to,” I said, still pissed at him for making me do shit he was perfectly capable of doing himself and clearly was used to doing for himself.
“Alexa.” He used the old familiar warning tone. “You knew what the job was when you took it.”
And wasn’t that the truth? I exhaled heavily, trying to let go of my annoyance. I nodded and then gave Effie a small wave, grabbed my bag, and followed Caine to the door.
We were silent as we stepped into the elevator. Caine pressed the button for the underground parking garage.
“I saw the kimono,” he said as we neared the garage level. “It’s perfect for Effie.”
Yes, I’d definitely lost count of the many times he had surprised me this evening. “Was that almost a ‘good job’?”
We stepped out of the elevator into the coolness of the garage. Caine threw me a quelling look as he led me to my car. “Don’t ruin it by being a smart-ass.”
I grinned. “I don’t think it’s possible to ruin an almost ‘good job.’ A good job, yes, not an almost.”
We stopped at the car and Caine did so with a weary sigh. “Fine. You did a good job.” He leveled me with that heavy, dark gaze of his. “You are doing a good job.”
And there he went, shocking me again.
A smile prodded my lips.
There was a whole other side to Caine, and Effie Flanagan, a seventy-seven-year-old Broadway actress, brought it out in him. He was relaxed, he was funny, and he could even be … yes … sweet. Just like Effie said.
A wary aspect had entered Caine’s eyes, as if he was waiting for me to say something cheeky that would piss him off.
“Thank you.”
The wariness disappeared and he gave me a little nod of acknowledgment that was so much hotter than it should have been.
“I’d better get back to Effie. I promised to fix that railing.”
“So you did.” I smiled and opened my car door.
“Good night, Alexa.”
“Good night, Mr. Carraway.”
Caine responded with a stiff smile and then he slowly retreated and strode off.
I got in my car and drove out of there, wondering why the hell I couldn’t let this go, why I had to push my way into his life, just so I didn’t have to deal with my own. I wasn’t sure about anything anymore. The only thing I was starting to predict was that if I did by some miracle find a way to make Caine see who I really was, I was almost positive that I wasn’t going to come out of it unscathed.
CHAPTER 8
My prediction started coming true almost immediately. That Monday when I returned to work, Caine was back to his usual charming, clipped, and cool self. It was like Saturday had never happened. I had to admit it hurt.
And I really didn’t want to feel that way.
He made it easier to turn the hurt into irritation when he complained that his latte was a soy latte (it definitely was not) and told me that I needed to stop stapling paperwork together and learn how to use a paper clip.
I’d learn how to use a paper clip all right, but only after I used the staple one last time to shut him up permanently. Yeah, I said it!
“Said what?” Caine snapped.
That was when I realized I’d let the latter half of the conversation with myself slip out of my mouth. “Uh …” I stared down at him, trying to think fast. “That you’re so right.” I reached out and grabbed the paperwork from him. “I’ll just go remove the staples for you.”
I thought that was a pretty crappy start to the day. However, it wasn’t until lunchtime when things really started to go bad.
I was in the middle of typing up my squiggly notes from Caine’s meetings that morning when I heard Henry call out my name. He was striding down the hall toward me and when he came to a stop, he perched himself on the edge of my desk and gave me a soft smile. “Good afternoon, beautiful.”
Over the last few weeks I’d come to like Henry. He was the opposite of Caine. He was all friendly and flirtatious and laid-back. Henry worked for his father’s offshore bank, traveled a lot, and overall seemed to enjoy life way more than Caine did. He oozed charm and contentment, and I had to admit he did a lot to soothe my Caine-related wounded pride and self-esteem.
I relaxed back in my chair and smiled up at him, pleased to see him. “Good afternoon, handsome. How was your weekend?”
“Not as interesting as yours. I heard you dined with the queen.”
I laughed. “Effie? Yeah, she’s awesome.”
Henry threw his head back in laughter. “Effie? Mrs. Flanagan lets you call her by her first name. I’m sure Caine was delighted by that.”
I rolled my eyes. “What’s the big deal?”
“Believe it or not, Mrs. Flanagan is a hard nut to crack. She and I are not on a first-name basis and she’s spent the last five years denying me access to her baking.” He pouted comically. “I’m not a big fan of rejection.”
Amused, I tsked. “There must be a reason for her rejection.”
“She says I’m a ne’er-do-well, and until I settle down and act like a real man she wants nothing to do with me.”
“That’s not fair. I’d say Mr. Carraway is as much of a ne’er-do-well as you.”
“Thank you!” He nodded in agreement. “That is my argument exactly.” He leaned closer. “Maybe you could put in a good word since she’s taken such a shine to you.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Henry smiled and stood up. “Have I told you recently how happy I am that Caine hired you?”
“No, but it would be helpful if you tell him that.” I pressed the call button to Caine’s office.
“What?” he grumped on the loudspeaker, and Henry grinned at my answering grimace.