Jessica nodded. "Still very much alive. She was excited when I told her about the columnist job, too." Even more excited, I'll bet, when I told her Eric had broken up with me, she thought. Relieved, anyway.
Worth smiled. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. "What you were thinking. What you were thinking." He leaned forward, arms on the desk. His eyes were soft. "That's commendable, Jessica. Because what I have been thinking has been quite a bit more singular and unsettling."
Uh-oh. Here comes that apology.
Jessica was surprised when he stood up and began to pace behind his desk. Not frantically but driven. He must really be torn up about his transgressions. Or he's afraid that I'll run to HR and report him now that I know he's my boss. Maybe he'll convince himself it was somehow my fault. Some guys are like that. She kept her eyes forward even as he came up behind her chair and put his hands on the seat back, inches from her shoulders.
"Do you have any idea how much I want to touch you again right now?" he whispered hoarsely. "I've thought so much about that night. How I made it through that lunch on Monday, I'll never know."
Still facing forward, her shoulders tensed. "I don't understand. You apologized. Several times. The flowers—"
Behind her, she could sense his defeat. "Which you graciously accepted. Thank you." Worth walked around to his desk and sat down. "The more I think about it, about this, about us, the more I realize that it may be uncomfortable for you, working with me. You thought I was your boyfriend, but I knew that I was about to be your boss. Completely inappropriate of me. Better men than I have gotten into incredible trouble over less than that. I did ask, but in retrospect, I understand now that you weren't telling me yes, but your boyfriend. If you need a letter of reference, I will give you high marks—all completely sincere—"
She couldn't take it anymore. "Are you kidding me? You're firing me?"
Worth was horrified. "Of course not! But I thought that you may—"
Jessica closed her eyes. "File a complaint? Is that what you're worried about?" She was fuming. "You apologized for kissing me," she hissed. "Something, I might add, that I enjoyed immensely."
Worth drew in a breath. "You're not mad that I—"
Jessica frowned. "I did think it was Eric in the bathroom. I wanted it to be him because—because he'd never kissed me like that before. He never wanted me that much." Jessica was mortified to feel a tear rolling down her cheek, which she quickly wiped away.
Jessica drew in a breath to compose herself. "Mr. Vincent. Worth. It may be uncomfortable for you, to have me work here. Knowing that…" Oh what the hell. He said he'd write me a reference. Jessica leaned forward in her chair and looked at him directly. "…knowing that, what I would really like to do right now is turn back the clock to October thirty-first."
Chapter 7
Fires of a Different Sort
For a few seconds, Worth stared at her without speaking while she prayed for a hole to appear in the floor and swallow her alive. He's probably the last real gentleman on earth, and that was definitely not ladylike. Then he smiled—an incredibly handsome and grateful smile. "We can't turn the clock backward, but we can certainly move forward. Let's start over, Jessica. I want to do this the right way."
Getting up from his desk, he came around to the front of it, facing her. He reached his hands out and she grasped them with her own, letting him pull her to her feet. "Forget Halloween," Worth said softly. "Forget Darth Vader and Wonder Woman. I have a feeling that Worth and Jessica will get along even better than they did."
When Jessica leaned in for a chaste peck on his lips, he didn't flinch. Instead, his lips softened and parted. Bathroom Guy was back. Still holding hands, the only other connection was their lips, their tongues, but Jessica could feel other parts readying themselves in a sudden wave of heat. She pulled her head back just enough to whisper, "I believe that you are correct." She was about to put her arms around his neck and get as close as humanly possible when the office door suddenly opened.
Instinctively, they dropped hands and straightened. Jessica noticed with an inner smile that in the split second before the person who was opening the door had stepped inside, Worth had grabbed a magazine off his desk to cover his obvious pleasure. Gotta love guys, she thought. There's no faking that.
That "person" was a rather alarmed Skip. "There's been another fire," he said, breathless. "This one's the worst yet. And there's another suicide, probably the arsonist, according to the news. But it's too close to your apartment for comfort, Jessica. I wanted you to know."
Jessica looked at Worth. Her apartment, her column—
"Go," he said, tilting his head in the direction of the door. Their eyes locked just a moment and it was all Jessica could do to walk away from him, story be damned.
As the daughter of a decorated firefighter, Jessica easily got permission to enter the barricaded perimeter of the blaze, an older building in an upscale section of town, a few blocks from her apartment but not dangerously close. She spoke with the lead detective on the case as well as Chief Henderson, a longtime friend of the family.
The fire had been quickly contained and controlled, but there was still an air of danger. Maybe being in Worth's office has my senses on high alert. Her heart hadn't stopped pounding on the drive. Whew, she thought. I've got it bad. And it's going to be so good if…
Forcing herself to focus, Jessica took in a deep breath of acrid air. It reminded her of that awful day last year when her father had died.
