“My last job was at a hospital.”
“Really?” This was even better than she’d hoped. “So you’ll be able to toss in a few medical words and sound like you know what you’re doing? You could sound like a doctor?”
“As long as no one needs brain surgery.”
“When can you start?” she asked, grinning.
“What time do you leave for work?”
“Seven-thirty.”
“I’ll be here at seven. I’ll bring breakfast.”
“I don’t eat—”
“I’ll bring breakfast. I saw the inside of your refrigerator. You have very little on hand.” He headed to the door, grabbed the knob. “I have to be home for the weekend, but I’ll do an assessment of what needs to be done tomorrow then come back on Monday. I’ll call Julia and let her know.”
“Wait!” She walked to him, the door open. “How can I reach you?”
“I’ll give you my cell-phone number tomorrow. Sleep well.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “Everything will work out, Becca.”
With those softly spoken, comforting words, he left.
Becca closed her mouth after a moment, her eyes watering and throat burning. Then she shut the door and went to bed, where she fell asleep within a minute.
Life was good.
Chapter Three
“I’m trying to remember the last time I ate oatmeal,” Becca said, scraping her bowl clean. “And I’m sure it didn’t taste this good.”
Gavin had guessed what she might like to eat and decided on oatmeal loaded with raisins, walnuts and brown sugar for both of them, something hearty he’d picked up at the restaurant of the hotel where he’d stayed overnight.
She looked fresh, her eyes bright, her spirits high. Maybe a little too high. There was nothing leisurely about her this morning. She moved quickly, spoke with rapid-fire speed and continually bounced a foot while talking. He hadn’t noticed anything like it last night, but she was definitely wound up now.
“Are you all right?” He picked up her empty bowl and set it in the kitchen sink with his.
She hopped off the barstool. “I feel good. Hopeful.”
Hopeful. An interesting word. “What’s your plan for your second bedroom? Office? Guest room?”
“Both. Suki has crashed on my couch a few times, but it would be good to have a real guest room.”
“How much work do you do at home?”
She scooped up her briefcase, which she’d tossed onto the couch, and checked the contents. “Lots. But I usually sit here on the sofa with my laptop. I don’t have to spread out much.”
He found himself staring at her rear, which was round and taut, her jeans fitting her like a second skin. She was slender but toned, her breasts small and firm. “Do you need all the trade journals that are stacked up around the place?”
“Probably not.” She straightened and faced him in time to find him staring.
He felt like a teenager, caught ogling. It’d been way too long since he’d been on a date, having no interest while the lawsuit was being investigated then tried. He supposed it was a sign of emotional progress that he was thinking about sex again, but it was disconcerting in this situation. For all intents and purposes, she was his boss.
Not to mention she lived in Sacramento and he in San Francisco, too far apart to see each other often. Although in a week’s time they would need to look as if they were married, with all the intimacy that implied. Interesting contradictions, he thought.
“This is my cell-phone number,” he said, passing her a scrap of paper.
“And here’s a key for you,” she said. “So, I won’t see you again until Monday?”
“Right.” He could have changed his plans at home but decided he’d rather work without her around—which meant putting it off until Monday. It had been a year since he’d spent time with a woman he liked and was attracted to. “You must have a casual workplace,” he said, “to wear jeans as a vice president.”
She flashed a grin. “Actually I’m dressed up.” She pulled an orange cardigan over her crisp white shirt. “We don’t see many visitors, although we’re doing a lot more video conferencing these days, so some of the guys may need to start wearing dress shirts instead of T-shirts.”
Gavin got caught by her smile, which spread from her mouth to her eyes, their dark brown depths sparkling. How she could look both at ease and wound up was beyond him, but it described her.
“If there’s something you need me to do over the weekend, let me know,” she said as she headed to the door.
“Will you go grocery shopping?”
She frowned. “What for?”
He laughed. “Eat out a lot, do you?”
“I don’t have time to cook. Or the interest.”
“Then I’ll take care of it before I get here on Mon day. I think if you want your brothers to believe you’re married, your kitchen should be a little better stocked.”
“They know I don’t cook.”
“People have a different expectation for a married person, I think. I won’t overdo it.”
She smiled, obviously happy. “We already feel so domestic,” she said. “I feel like I should kiss you goodbye and call you honey.”
Feel free. The words stayed trapped in his head.
“But I’ll just say thank-you. You don’t know how relieved I am, Gavin.”
“Have a good day. Honey.”
She laughed then waved goodbye.
The apartment seemed unbearably quiet after the door shut. Becca Sheridan had presence. He wondered if she knew what a potent force she was.
Gavin planned to spend the next few hours looking through boxes, sorting stacks and making lists. He was excited to get started, anxious to create order out of her chaos. He had work to do, physical and mental.
And he felt better than he had in a long time, lighter, unburdened. Focused.
Sane.
He hoped it was worth living the lie.
Suki shadowed Becca from the front door all the way to her office. She’d been lying in wait, had texted Becca four times this morning demanding to know how the interview had gone. Becca couldn’t explain it adequately via text message, so she waited, although knowing Suki would pounce.
“Tall, blond and handsome, like he’d just come out of the ocean with a surfboard under his arm,” Becca said as soon as Suki shut the door. “Intelligent. Easygoing. Good manners. Knows how to take care of a person. Jackpot.”
She started to laugh after that, feeling like a teenager, light and carefree.
“Wow,” Suki said, sitting back in her chair. “And he works as a temp? Something’s gotta be wrong with him.”
“I kept looking for flaws. I didn’t see any.”
“Did you make him strip down? Maybe it’s where you can’t see it.”
Becca grinned. “Why didn’t I think of that? I could’ve brought out my casting couch. I’m telling you, he’s one gorgeous