Page 98 of Romance and Peppermint Lattes
By the time Cait got back to her office she felt numb. Paul had an important date. It wasn’t as though she’d expected him to live the life of a hermit, but before today, he’d never mentioned going out with anyone. She might have suspected he’d thrown out the information hoping to make her jealous if it hadn’t been for one thing. He seemed genuinely thrilled about this date. Besides, Paul wasn’t the kind of man to resort to pretense.
“Cait, my goodness,” Lindy said, strolling into her office a while later, “what’s wrong? You look dreadful.”
Cait tried to swallow the lump in her throat and managed a shaky smile. “I talked to Paul and gave him the research I’d done.”
“He didn’t appreciate it?” Lindy picked up the Christmas wreath that lay on Cait’s desk and pinned it to the door.
“I’m sure he did,” she replied. “What he doesn’t appreciate is me. I might as well be invisible to that man.” She pushed the hair away from her forehead and braced both elbows on her desk, feeling totally disheartened. Unless she acted quickly, she was going to lose Paul to some faceless, nameless woman.
“You’ve been invisible to him before. What’s different about this time?” Lindy fastened a silver bell to the window as Cait abstractedly fingered her three ceramic wise men.
“Paul’s got a date, and from the way he talked about it, this isn’t with just any woman, either. Whoever she is must be important, otherwise he wouldn’t have said anything. He looked like a little kid who’s been given the keys to a candy store.”
The information seemed to surprise Lindy as much as it hadCait. She was quiet for a few minutes before she asked, “What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know,” Cait cried, hiding her face in her hands. She’d once jokingly suggested to Joe that she parade around naked in an effort to gain Paul’s attention. Of course she’d been exaggerating, but some form of drastic action was obviously needed. If only she knew what.
Lindy mumbled an excuse and left. It wasn’t until Cait looked up that she realized her friend was gone. She sighed wearily. She’d arrived at work this morning with such bright expectations, and now everything had gone wrong. She felt more depressed than she’d been in a long time. She knew the best remedy would be to force herself into some physical activity. Anything. The worst possible thing she could do was sit home alone and mope. Maybe she should plan to buy herself a Christmas tree and some ornaments. Her spirits couldn’t help being at least a little improved by that; it would get her out of the house, if nothing else. And then she’d have something to entertain herself with, instead of brooding about this unexpected turn of events. Getting out of the house had an added advantage. If Joe phoned, she wouldn’t be there to answer.
No sooner had that thought passed through her mind when a large form filled her doorway.
Joe.
A bright orange hard hat was pushed back on his head, the way movie cowboys wore their Stetsons. His boots were dusty and his tool pouch rode low on his hip, completing the gunslinger image. Even the way he stood with his thumbs tucked in his belt suggested he was waiting for a showdown.
“Hi, beautiful,” he drawled, giving her that lazy, intimate smile of his. The one designed, Cait swore, just to unnerve her. But it wasn’t going to work, not in her present state of mind.
“Don’t you have anyone else to pester?” she asked coldly.
“My, my,” Joe said, shaking his head in mock chagrin. Disregarding her lack of welcome, he strode into the office and threw himself down in the chair beside her desk. “You’re in a rare mood.”
“You would be too after the day I’ve had. Listen, Joe. As you can see, I’m poor company. Go flirt with the receptionist if you’re trying to make someone miserable.”
“Those claws are certainly sharp this afternoon.” He ran his hands down the front of his shirt, pretending to inspect the damage she’d inflicted. “What’s wrong?” Some of the teasing light faded from his eyes as he studied her.
She sent him a look meant to blister his ego, but as always Joe seemed invincible against her practiced glares.
“How do you know I’m not here to invest fifty thousand dollars?” he demanded, making himself at home by reaching across her desk for a pen. He rolled it casually between his palms.
Cait wasn’t about to fall for this little game. “Are you here to invest money?”
“Not exactly. I wanted to ask you to—”
“Then come back when you are.” She grabbed a stack of papers and slapped them down on her desk. But being rude, even to Joe, went against her nature. She was battling tears and the growing need to explain her behavior, apologize for it, when he rose to his feet. He tossed the pen carelessly onto her desk.
“Have it your way. If asking you to join me to look for a Christmas tree is such a terrible crime, then—”
“You’re going to buy a Christmas tree?”
“That’s what I just said.” He flung the words over his shoulder as he strode out the door.
In that moment, Cait felt as though the whole world was tumbling down around her shoulders. She felt like such a shrew. He’d come here wanting to include her in his Christmaspreparations and she’d driven him away with a spiteful tongue and a haughty attitude.
Cait wasn’t a woman easily given to tears, but she struggled with them now. Her lower lip started to quiver. She might have been eight years old all over again—this was like the day she’d found out she wasn’t invited to Betsy McDonald’s birthday party. Only now it was Paul doing the excluding. He and this important woman of his were going out to have the time of their lives while she stayed home in her lonely apartment, suffering from a serious case of self-pity.
Gathering up her things, Cait thrust the papers into her briefcase with uncharacteristic negligence. She put on her coat, buttoned it quickly and wrapped the scarf around her neck as though it were a hangman’s noose.
Joe was talking to his foreman, who’d been unobtrusively working around the office all day. He hesitated when he saw her, halting the conversation. Cait’s eyes briefly met his and although she tried to disguise how regretful she felt, she obviously did a poor job of it. He took a step toward her, but she raised her chin a notch, too proud to admit her feelings.
