Matt would soon come inside the town house.
He’d smile at her and flirt with her, which would only complicate matters further. She hadn’t even told Terry she couldn’t work the party for the twins. She’d meant to but an influx of guests had arrived soon after Terry confirmed that Brooke and Robbie had been adopted.
Making up her mind to leave, Jazz balanced the dirty Crock-Pot on top of her serving trays. She picked up the entire stack and took a few steps toward escape.
The door to the deck slid open, and Matt walked into the kitchen carrying a white plastic garbage bag. He looked tall and handsome with his tousled hair shot through with gold and his shirt untucked, a man most women wouldn’t dream of fleeing. Most women would run toward him.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” he asked. “I still need to write you a check.”
How had payment slipped her mind when it had been her main reason to take the job?
“I, uh—” she hoped to think up an excuse “—was just going to take these dishes out to my car.”
“Let me pay you first so you don’t have to make two trips.” Matt tied the garbage bag closed, set it down and picked up a checkbook and a pen from a side table.
He sat down at the kitchen table, wrote out the check and handed it to her. She was forced to put her dishes down on the kitchen counter to take it.
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