One Week (HaleStorm) (4 page)

Elise rolled her eyes. “Michael. Don’t.”

He leaned so close he could make out the tiny bursts of blue and green interlaced with the gray in her eyes. “I get the impression you think I’m being too familiar, yet you insist on calling me by my first name.”

The caught look was gone as soon as it crossed her face. “Habit. Michael was what I called you back then and that’s how I’ve thought of you all this time.”

“I’ve wondered what you’ve thought of me.”

She stood with a glare, gathering her laptop bag and her purse. “Let’s stay focused on your project, Mr. Hale.”

Well, he’d gotten her to quit for the night, anyway. “All right.” He pushed away from the table. “I apologize. Let’s keep this professional.”

She laughed low and husky, under her breath. “That’s an excellent idea. Think it’s something you can manage?”

With her? He’d done a shit job of it five years ago. And in the past year or so since he’d split from Becca, he couldn’t remember anyone else who had put him so at ease.

“Of course.” But he would keep it professional. He had to.

“Great.” She hiked the laptop case on her shoulder. “You’re right. I actually am exhausted. I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Hale.” She took a deep breath and the angry mask slipped from her face. “For what it’s worth, I
am
sorry about your father.”

“Thank you.”

“Goodnight.” She nodded and turned to go.

“Wait. What about your roommate?”

She shrugged. “In case of emergency, I have ear plugs.”

Michael shook his head. “I hate for you to drive back to DC. The company maintains a couple of furnished apartments across the street for visiting clients and execs. I’m staying in one myself right now, but there’s another standing empty. You’re welcome to use the space while you work this week to avoid so much back and forth. You’d get at least an extra hour of sleep.”

Her brows drew together. “You’re staying in a furnished apartment across the street?”

“Becca got the house. We separated over a year ago.”

“Oh that’s.... I’m sorry.”

“Sometimes these things are for the best.” And it really had been. He handed Elise her teetering stack of documentation and then taped a note to the door indicating the conference room was occupied. “I’ve had my office manager block the conference room calendar for you all week, but some people don’t bother to check first.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

He pulled out his key ring then detached one, holding his hand out. “So. The apartment?”

Her head dropped back to her shoulders as she sucked in a harsh breath. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll be fine getting home.”

“I know.”

“You’re right, it would be nice to have someplace close by to sleep.”

He tried to control his smile. “Yes. It would.”

Triumph drummed inside him when her fingers closed around his and came away with the key.

***

“M
r. Hale I can carry my own—” Elise made a grab for her bag but he’d beat her to it.

“Come on. You’ve been in those shoes all day, except for the time I saw you slip them off in the conference room. You don’t want to have to lug everything up by yourself. We can get everything in one trip.” He handed over her purse and slammed the trunk closed.

She caught a grin from the light of one of the lamps that illuminated the trendy little condo complex’s parking lot.

“So what’s with the sudden formality? First I’m Michael, now I’m Mr. Hale?” He pointed up a set of stairs to indicate the direction they should go, and she followed.

She rubbed at a growing sore spot on the back of her neck. “Well.” She paused for a moment to weigh her words, and then decided maybe they should just go ahead and address the big, ugly, gorilla standing there between them. “I’m a little confused myself. First you’re acting like you barely know me, questioning my ability to deliver on the job for which you contracted my firm. Then you’re acting a little like you want me to crawl in your lap and read you my Christmas list.” When he pointed to a door, she used the key he’d given her to unlock it, opening it just far enough to set down her laptop and handbag. “I figure, just so there’s no misunderstanding, I’ll go ahead and call you Mr. Hale like everyone else.”

He nodded, gazing for a moment up at the dark sky like he was considering what she’d said. When he swallowed, she couldn’t manage to ignore slow bob of his Adam’s apple, the way his tongue came out to moisten his full, dark lips.

She still remembered the taste of those lips.

“You’re right.” He stepped back, leaning against one of the painted apartment doorframes. His face and body shrouded in shadow, his formal winter coat framed his tall body, making him look powerful and refined. All those years ago, he’d hardly seemed much older than her, in spite of the decade between them. He looked so different now. Powerful. “Not that it serves as an excuse but it’s been one hell of a week. My father’s ashes are still in a box in my office.”

Oh God, they are?

He took a deep breath then let it out. “I’ve had to fire a half dozen employees in the past week. I sent senior management out the door. Thank fuck Tom came in to help me pick up the slack.”

Someone came jogging up the stairs then, and passed them on their way to the next level. Michael waited for them to move on before he finished. “My father wasn’t himself at the end. These people took advantage. Betrayed him, me, the entire company. It had to be done. Doesn’t mean I enjoyed being the asshole.” He shrugged his shoulders as if the entire thing rolled off his back, but the light coming from the little torch on the landing showed pain in his eyes. “It’s all so unfamiliar. Then you showed up, and you reminded me of a time when I knew myself. When life was good. We spent the evening in the conference room together and it was like going back in time.”

A deep ache of sympathy bloomed in Elise’s chest. Concern, guilt that she’d been overly harsh toward him worked its way in alongside. “Michael—”

“You’re right though,” he said as he slid her overnight bag from his shoulder and handed it over. “I pressed inappropriately. I apologize.”

Oh. Well. The ache in her chest intensified, and even though she stubbornly tried to keep a firm grip on the hurt and anger she’d held toward Michael all this time, a measure of it slipped through her fingers. This all had to be so hard on him.

She lifted her hand to offer a comforting touch, but stopped. Doing that very thing had gotten them both in trouble in the past. Instead, she took the bag from his hands. “I accept your apology Michael, thank you. I have every confidence we can go forward professionally from here on out.” Even as she said the words, her hands brushed his and the sensation pleased her far more than it had a right to.

He stepped forward. “You want me to come in and show you around?”

“No! No. Thank you. I can find my way.” Lord, most definitely not. The clock had not quite struck three. Her legs barely held her up. The only place she wanted to go was the shower and the bed, and at this point she might skip the shower. Her will was weak, and he’d only recently finished a sob story that involved telling her he’d started divorce proceedings. No. No, she wasn’t touching that one.

He nodded. “Well. Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight.” But he didn’t move.

“Is something wrong?”
Aside from the obvious?

He hesitated. “It’s late. I thought I’d wait to see you in safely.”

“Oh.” She managed a smile. “Thank you.” She stepped inside then shut the door. Curiosity grabbed her and spun her around, pinning her eye against the peep hole. “Oh, crap,” she muttered to herself.

He let himself into the apartment diagonal to hers and shut the door.

Great. Neighbors. No way in hell that could be awkward

E
arly Tuesday morning started with Elise grabbing two giant mochas on the way in to work, a little chocolate and whipped cream-covered comfort to help ease the craptasticness of schlepping through the Tysons Corner tundra in frigid pre-dawn hours.

Her phone rang on the way out of the parking garage while she was juggling a purse, a laptop, and two steamy cups. Michael calling. She managed to dig her phone out on the last ring. “Good morning.”

“I’ll get back to you about the ‘good’ part once I’ve had some fresh-roasted happy juice,” he said. “Which is why I called. I’m at the deli by the building right now, thought I’d see if you wanted anything.”

“Oh. Actually, I stopped at Starbucks already.” She leaned down so the security badge she’d clipped to her coat could be read by the sensor, and then shoved the door with her hip. “I, uh, got you a peppermint mocha.”

“Hell, that’s way better than plain old dark roast. I don’t suppose you got an extra shot of peppermint?”

Elise smiled to herself as she headed through the silent lobby to get on the elevator. Still dark outside, most of the employees wouldn’t be in for at least a couple of hours. “I
may
have gotten an extra shot of peppermint.”

You like it that way. I remembered.

Michael chuckled through the phone. “Well I suppose it’s only fair.”

“Oh?”

“I
may
have gotten you a chocolate chip muffin.”

The mere mention made her stomach grumble. “Oh. Well. I don’t like chocolate chip muffins.”

“No?”

“No. I love them.” Elise had set down her belongings while waiting for the elevator. She paused mid-breath when she realized she’d wrapped one long strand of hair around and around her index finger. The sound of the lobby door had her yanking her hand behind her back.

Her gaze darted around the seemingly cavernous space that stood between Elise’s position at the elevators and the building’s front door. The Christmas trees, unlit now, glared back with dark, silent judgment.
He hurt you. Professionally, not just personally. Remember?

The trees had a point. After their close encounter the evening before she’d resolved to be professional, and damned if she wasn’t standing here in the lobby twirling her hair like some kind of teenager.

“Well if it’s love then I guess it’s a good thing I got a four-pack,” Michael said as swung open the giant entryway doors. His footsteps echoed solidly in the otherwise-empty lobby.

Wrapping both hands around her mocha, she chugged fast, ignoring the burn and hoping the caffeine would help zap the stupid out of her brain. At the very least, the inside of her mouth would be too scorched to do any damage. “That’s... thank you.”

Dammit, his smile still seemed a little lazy and sleepy, his hair ruffled from the chilly breeze outside. Tough to feel all bitchy and righteous when he stood in front of her holding out a bag of muffins with that tired half-grin. Tough not to think about the fact that he’d only recently woken up. In fact....

“Your shirt isn’t buttoned quite right.” She pointed to his chest.

He shook his head and hooked the bag with the muffins over his wrist while he undid his shirt halfway to fix the misalignment, exposing a toned, olive chest. “Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” he mumbled as he re-fastened his shirt.

“I hear you.”
Coffee. I need so much more coffee.
Elise took another
glug-glug
of her mocha, and handed over Michael’s from a small table by the elevator.

Wouldn’t it figure, he lifted the lid and took a swipe of the whipped cream with his tongue.

This is not, not, not happening
.

“Delicious. I needed this, thank you.” Michael took another lick of the good stuff from the top of his drink. “So. Shall we?”

Elise blinked and nearly snarfed her swallow. “Oh. Yeah.”
Cough, cough. Not-so-ladylike throat clear.
“Yes, we shall.” She didn’t argue when he offered to help gather her things.

He punched the elevator button. “You know, if I haven’t said it already, I do appreciate you being here to help.”

She blamed the fact that she hadn’t eaten breakfast on the jitters in her stomach. “It’s my job.”

“Of course,” he said. He leaned his head back against the wall of the elevator, letting his eyelids drift closed. “All the same, your efforts are appreciated. This has been... a lot.”

She tried to tell herself not to stare, but she let her gaze linger anyway. It slid over the shadows under his eyes, his strong nose. Those broad cheekbones. “You know, you didn’t have to come in so early. I can save the parts I need your help with for whatever time you usually arrive.”

With a rub of his eyes and another slurp of his coffee, he said, “For now, this is the time I arrive.”

As they stepped off the elevator, something pinged in Elise’s center. “I’m sure Tom could help me—”

“Tom has other issues to handle.”

“Right. Well. It’s nice to have you here.”
It’s nice to have you here? Oh, Elise.
She downed her mocha so fast she thought she might shoot peppermint and chocolate from her nose. At the rate she was going she’d have the full stadium-sized cup drained by the time they reached the conference room.

He smiled though, and she nearly tripped over herself. God, she couldn’t think clearly at this hour. Not the way this sleepy, handsome, muffin-delivering version of Michael reminded her of the guy she’d fallen for that summer she’d interned at HaleStorm. He’d been so nice, so friendly. The way he was being now.

She needed to remember how he’d pushed her away. The way he’d screwed her over. God willing, by the time the caffeine had kicked in, she’d have her brain back online.

He went to hold the door open for her when they got to the conference room. Feeling the need to put herself back in the driver’s seat, she rushed ahead to get it first.

He brushed past her as he stepped through, and grinned again. Shit, she didn’t have her mental defenses in place yet, and even in the early morning he looked like he owned the world. “Thanks again for the muffins,” she managed.

“Least I could do,” he said.

Unsure how to respond, she ignored the heat that rose to her face and focused on getting on with their day. And boy, was it ever shaping up to be a long one.