“Awful. Terrible. Miserable.”
She blinked. Did he read minds? Before she could decide, he continued, “I assume you’re looking for a new location for Constant Cravings.”
She jerked her head in a nod. “Yes.”
“Find anything yet?”
“I have a possibility. Have you rented my space at Fairfax?”
“It’s been leased, yes. To a Java Heaven. Managed by Greg Mathers’s nephew.”
Realization dawned and a spurt of fresh anger rushed through her. “I see. I bet that’s not a coincidence.”
“No, it’s not.”
“In that case, I’m glad I’m not there any longer.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Yes, you made it very plain you were glad I wasn’t there any longer. Is that all you have to say? Because my dinner is getting cold.”
He shook his head. “When I said ‘that makes two of us’ I meant that I’m glad
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I resigned. Gave my two-week notice the Monday after I returned from San Francisco. As of an hour ago, I no longer work for GreenSpace Property Management and I’m no longer the property manager for Fairfax.”
It took her a good ten seconds to find her voice. “I don’t understand. Why would you resign?”
“Because I decided that I didn’t like the way Greg Mathers did business. I didn’t like the way he treated you or the store you worked so hard to build. While he was perfectly within his rights not to renew your lease, I think it sucked that he didn’t. He wanted that space for his nephew and now he has it. I just didn’t want to be a part of it any longer.”
Lacey could scarcely believe her ears. “So you don’t have a job?”
“Oh, no, I have a job. You are looking at the new property manager for Bryant Properties.”
“How did you manage that?”
“I’ve known Bill Bryant for many years and he’s a good man. Has told me a number of times to let him know if I was ever interested in making a change. When I decided to leave GreenSpace, I called him.”
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
“How about congratulations?”
“Congratulations.”
His lips curved upward in a slow smile that stole her breath. “Thanks.” He walked toward her and reached into his suit jacket. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. “For you.”
“What is it?”
“There’s one way to find out.”
Lacey slid her finger beneath the flap and withdrew several sheets of folded paper. She read the first few lines, then looked up at him in amazement.
“This is a lease agreement.”
“It is, and my first official deal in my new job. Bryant owns a building complex similar to Fairfax, but I think you’ll find after I show you the place that it’s a much better fit for Constant Cravings. The stores are more eclectic, and it’s located closer to the city.”
She shook her head. “I can’t afford anything closer to the city.”
“Read the terms. I think you can.”
She looked back down at the papers and continued reading. Stunned, she raised her gaze back to his. “There must be some mistake. I’ve checked out lease space in this general area, and the rents were much higher than this figure.”
“It’s no mistake. That’s one of the perks of being the manager-I can offer incentives.”
“I…I can’t believe you’ve done this. Left your job. Made me this incredible offer. I’m…speechless.”
“Then just listen.” He reached out and gently clasped her shoulders. “Nothing’s been right since you walked out of my office, Lacey.
The dam holding back the tears she’d fought against all day burst, and with a sob, she threw her arms around his neck, as much to touch him as to have something solid to hold on to so she didn’t slither to the ground.
“I lied when I said I was fine,” she sobbed against his neck. “I’ve been completely miserable.”
“I guess I shouldn’t say ‘good,’ but, well, good.”
“I can’t believe you’ve done all this.”
“Believe it. And please, please stop crying. You’re killing me.”
She raised her head and framed his face between her trembling hands. “I love you. So much.”
He yanked her against him and kissed her in that toe-curling way that left her breathless. “Say it again,” he demanded against her lips.
“I love you.”
She felt his smile, then he leaned back. Cupping her face, he brushed at the tears wetting her cheeks. “God, I’ve missed you.”
“Me, too.” A profound sense of happiness filled all the spaces that less than half an hour ago had been so depressingly empty.
She pressed herself against him, enjoying the low groan that rumbled in his throat as their bodies met.
His hands skimmed down her back to curve over her buttocks and he pulled her tighter against him. “Listen, now that we’ve made up verbally,” he said, his eyes hot on hers, “I’m thinking we should continue with the time- honored tradition of makeup sex. And then talk about our future.”
She kissed him, then leaned back and smiled. “That makes two of us.”
TOGETHER AGAIN? by Jill Shalvis
1
PRAGMATIC AND PRACTICAL, Chloe Cooper didn’t believe in letting fate have its way. Nope, in her opinion, people made their own destiny, thank you very much.
That knowledge was the driving force behind her entire life, including putting herself through college and running her own accounting firm. Things were good for her, because she’d made them so through sheer will.
Sure, there was the occasional hiccup, like right now, for example. She sat outside, at a table surrounded by the evening’s jovial festivities. The Fairfax building complex was holding a Valentine’s Day celebration. The southern California evening was February mild, warm and lovely. Perfect for the commercialized holiday, if one went for that sort of thing-which Chloe didn’t.
She also didn’t go for palm readers-which explained her discomfort in finding her hand presently being held by Isabelle Girard, a fortune-teller hired to entertain the party goers with their individual fortunes.
Uh-huh. Being her own boss had benefits. It meant she could leave whenever she wanted, which she’d just done. Upon coming out of her office and down into the courtyard, Chloe had tried to sneak past the table, so she could instead head directly for what she’d come outside for in the first place-refreshments. But apparently The Legendary Madame Karma, as she called herself, had eyes in the back of her head.
“Sit,” she’d commanded, pointing a long, bony finger at the chair in front of her table.
Chloe had never done well with confrontation, so she’d sat. One thing about the faux winters here in L.A., she got away with light skirts and sweaters at work. No gloves required, not when the air hovered near seventy-five degrees.
