“Well, he is extremely handsome. And the way he was looking at you ...”
My mild irritation instantly took a backseat to curiosity. “How was he looking at me?”
She smirked. “Like he wanted to see your legal briefs.”
I tossed a napkin at her and scoffed, but inside, a thrill ran through me. I’d be lying if I said similar thoughts hadn’t crossed my mind once or twice, but those were personal, private thoughts and not meant to be shared. “You’re delusional.”
“Not delusional. Imaginative,” she corrected. “Comes in handy. You know, for writing.”
“Right.”
I was determined, and she was imaginative. We were as different as night and day.
After eating, Miriam set off for the bookstore. She said she wrote better there; plus, it felt more like a “real” job when she left her apartment and went somewhere else to do her thing. She’d invited me to go along, but I was too restless to sit in one place for hours. I was used to being active. I needed to do something.
I did the dishes and tidied up the apartment. Miriam was on the messy side, and I was slightly OCD when it came to having everything in its place. That didn’t take long, and I once again found myself looking for something to do.
I decided to go for a walk. Specifically, I headed downtown—toward Paul Cerasino’s office. I hadn’t actually told Miriam that I wouldn’t, so I didn’t feel too guilty.
When I got to the Wilkins building, however, I hesitated in the lobby, Miriam’s earlier words echoing in the back of my mind. Was I being a pest, or was I simply being a good sister and following up?
While I was standing there, trying to answer that, Paul Cerasino entered the lobby, briefcase in hand, and made a beeline for the café like a man on a mission.
A tingle ran through me. My first thought was, That man can fill out a suit like nobody’s business. The second was, He looks like someone who has something important on his mind. I wondered if he’d just come from court.
Since I hadn’t yet decided whether or not to go up to his office, I turned away and pretended to study the directory. I could see his reflection in the glass case and marked his progress as he exited the café and approached the elevators. He didn’t even glance in my direction.
I wasn’t surprised. He appeared preoccupied, and unlike the last time I had been here, I was wearing my blend into the background clothes—jeans, sneakers, and a lightweight top with my glasses instead of my usual contact lenses and my hair in a messy bun at the back of my head. I called it my nondescript look, because no one gave me a second glance. It was quite helpful when I wanted to observe without being seen.
After several minutes of silent deliberation, I made up my mind. I stepped into the elevator and rode it up to the sixth floor. I mean, why not? I was already there, right?
The nice older woman who had been at the desk on Monday wasn’t there today, but Stella was.
She looked up from whatever she was doing and scowled. “Yes?”
Her customer service skills could certainly use some work.
“I’d like to speak with Mr. Cerasino, please.”
Her scowl deepened. “And you are?”
“Allison Kearney.”
Her eyes narrowed, as if I looked familiar but she couldn’t quite place me. I really did look different in my suit.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but—”
“Mr. Cerasino is a very busy man,” she said, cutting me off before I could explain. “If you want to talk to him, you’ll have to make an appointment. Try calling next week.”
“I’m not going to be here next week,” I said, keeping my voice calm and even. “And I did call. No one called me back.”
Her smile was cold. “Then, perhaps you should try contacting someone else.”
For a moment, I was rendered speechless by her blatant rudeness. But he wasn’t.
“Stella!”
We both turned at the sharp voice. Paul Cerasino stood in the hallway that led to his office, and he looked angry. His lips were pressed together, and his dark eyes had become even darker.
There was a lot of passion simmering beneath that polished, professional exterior. I knew it as surely as I knew my own name. That tingle I’d felt earlier returned with a vengeance.
Just that quickly, Stella’s demeanor changed. “Paulie—”
“My office. Now.” He turned to me, his expression softening somewhat. “My sincere apologies, Ms. Kearney. Please, have a seat. I’ll be with you in a few moments.”
I nodded, selecting a seat in the waiting area. Stella walked back toward Paul’s office but not before shooting me an evil glance over her shoulder, as if this were my fault.
Several minutes later, Paul reappeared alone. His brows were pulled together, but they relaxed when he saw that I was still there.
“Thank you for waiting,” he said. “Would you come back to my office, please?”
I stood and followed him. There was no sign of Stella and I wondered if she’d used the alternate exit to avoid facing me.
I took the same seat in front of his desk, and like last time, he offered me something to drink. I declined. I didn’t plan on staying long.
His desk phone rang. He scowled at it and tapped a few buttons. The ringing stopped, but the lights continued to blink.
He turned back to me. “Since you are here alone, am I to presume that your sister has changed her mind?”
“Just the opposite. I called first thing yesterday morning and was told someone would get back to us, but no one did. I’m only in town for a few more days, so I thought I’d stop by and see if perhaps you had changed your mind.”
His brows furrowed again, and I put the pieces together.
“You never got the message, did you?”
He shook his head slightly. “My receptionist has been out of the office, and my assistant has been filling in.”
So, Stella was his assistant. I couldn’t
