An hourlater, she watched as he drove off down Beach Road. She foundherself questioning what had actually occurred in the last sixtyminutes. From the moment she had encountered him that first day onher front step, she had the impression he was a pain in the neck,so egotistical no one else in the world mattered except the greatTodd Baker. So what had possessed her to invite him for coffee?Surprisingly, their conversation had been interesting. Maybe shehad misjudged him. Maybe having someone to talk to wouldn’t be abad thing. Maybe I should give him thebenefit of the doubt.
They haddiscussed living in Paris, travel experiences, and favouriteholiday destinations. He had been charming and witty, which, sheadmitted, had been a complete surprise. He seemed interested in herplans for the renovation and promised to look in on her again laterin the week. To her amazement she had actually enjoyed thelighthearted banter, and more importantly the adult company. Shehad spent enough time alone since returning to Melbourne. Trufflewas generous with his affections, but was only good for one-wayconversations. I could get used to agood-looking male friend hanging around.
Todd grinned and wonderedabout his good fortune. What had tipped the scales in his favour?His plan had always been to win Chloe over, one way or another. Hewanted to persuade her to sell and would do whatever it took toaccomplish that end. The coffee offer from her today had been anunexpected bonus.
He had to admit he hadenjoyed spending time with her.
He couldn’tget her out of his mind on the drive back to the office but hewouldn’t let that information slip. Thiswas business after all. Big business. His investors were relying onhim to pull this deal off one way or another. He couldn’t afford toget romantically involved with Chloe Armstrong.
Samantha was nibbling ona salad in the small office kitchen when Todd appeared at the glassfront door. Forced to juggle his laptop bag, two takeaway cupssecured in a cardboard tray, and a paper carry bag, he attempted toenter. She concentrated on her plate and ignored him. He had beenmissing in action all morning, without even a text or a phone call,leaving her to manage the office and clients as Daniel, the othersales manager, was busy. She bit back a grin as he struggled withthe handle.
“Goodafternoon. I thought you were coming in earlier today. Mr Phillipscame in to see you about the apartment for sale in South Melbourne.He said he’ll call back about 4 pm. I gave Daniel two salesenquiries to follow up on your behalf, and he’ll be back in theoffice before the end of the day. There are several other messageson your desk. I would have relayed them but for some reason youdidn’t answer your phone or your texts. Call me crazy, but isn’tthat why we carry mobiles?”
Todd didn’t miss thesarcastic tone in her voice, but chose to ignore it. He dumped hispackages on the table. “Oh, I see you’re eating already. I broughtsome lunch to share.”
“If you hadcalled to give me a heads-up, I would’ve waited.”
He sat down at the smalltable opposite to Samantha, selected a coffee, and pulled thesandwiches in front of him. “More for me then.”
She lifted a coffee fromthe cardboard tray, removed the plastic lid and tapped her cupagainst his. “Thanks.”
She searched his face andraised one perfect eyebrow.
“You have thatlook again. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Without takingher eyes off him, she reached over and pulled an egg and lettucetriangle out of his packet.
“Nothing’sgoing on. I had some business to attend to this morning, and Ithought I’d bring my very lovely co-worker a coffee and somelunch.” He munched his way around a ham and salad sandwich, tryingnot to smile.
“What’s hername, Todd?”
“I don’t knowwhat you mean.” He avoided her gaze and concentrated on eating hissandwich.
“Come on. I’veknown you for too many years not to recognise the signs. You havethat ‘cat got the cream’ look you always get when you meet anattractive woman to add to your long list of hopefuls.” Her mouthtwitched at the corners, recalling his last romantic entanglement,a minor league stalker.
He picked up anothersandwich, and tried not to look her in the eye. “I dropped in on aprospective client, if you must know.” He adjusted the lid of thetakeaway coffee cup. “Chloe Armstrong. The Californian bungalow onBeach Road. The one set back from the pavement, with the overgrowngarden.”
“I didn’t knowthat property was for sale.”
“No, it’s noton the market … yet. But I’m working on it.”
“You mean you’re working on her. Now I get it.” She stood up andwalked to the sink with her empty bowl. Leaning back against thebench, her eyes narrowed on him.
“There isnothing ‘to get’. I like the property. I want to buy the block. Wecould put up some luxury apartments on that site and make a tidylittle profit.”
“But itdoesn’t hurt that Chloe Armstrong’s a beautiful woman. If my memoryserves me correctly, she was a dancer in Paris for years and she’ssingle. I read about her in the paper the other day.”
“Yes, she is quite attractive, and I imagine she would lookmore attractive if she ever got out of her paint-spattered clothes… no … don’t look at me like that, I meant if she dressed up insomething flattering. It’s the property I’m interestedin, not Chloe.” The image of Chloe dressed in nothing but a smile andholding a paintbrush caused the blood to rush to parts of hisanatomy not considered work safe.
“Oh, Chloe isit? Right, Todd, just keep on telling yourself that you are notinterested.”
She sat down again,propped her elbows up on the table, rested her chin on her toweredfingers and looked into his eyes.
He stared back but he hadno ammunition, no smart retort. “I have work to do, don’t you, Sam?Any chance you could find the time to finish those Fisher contractstoday?”
He needed to get awayfrom this topic
