Page 70 of Romance and Peppermint Lattes
“You remember him, then?”
She nodded. Oh, Lord, did she ever.
“Good grief, what’s wrong? You’ve gone so pale!”
Cait tried to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t sound... ridiculous.
“Tell me,” Lindy said. “Don’t just sit there wearing a foolish grin and looking like you’re about to faint.”
“Um, it goes back a few years.”
“All right. Start there.”
“Remember how kids sometimes do silly things? Like when you’re young and foolish and don’t know any better?”
“Me, yes, but not you,” Lindy said calmly. “You’re perfect. In all the time we’ve been friends, I haven’t seen you do one impulsive thing. Not one. You analyze everything before you act. I can’t imagine you ever doing anything silly.”
“I did once,” Cait told her, “but I was only eight.”
“What could you have possibly done at age eight?”
“I... I got married.”
“Married?” Lindy half rose from her chair. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I wish I was.”
“I’ll bet a week’s commissions that your husband’s name is Joe.” Lindy was smiling now, smiling widely.
Cait nodded and tried to smile in return.
“What’s there to worry about? Good grief, kids do that sort of thing all the time! It doesn’t mean anything.”
“But I was a real brat about it. Joe and my brother, Martin, were best friends. Joe wanted to know what it felt like to kiss a girl, and I insisted he marry me first. If that wasn’t bad enough, I pressured them into performing the ceremony inside their boys-only fort.”
“So, you were a bit of pain—most eight-year-old girls are when it comes to dealing with their brothers. He got what he wanted, didn’t he?”
Cait took a deep breath and nodded again.
“What was kissing him like?” Lindy asked in a curiously throaty voice.
“Good heavens, I don’t remember,” Cait answered shortly, then reconsidered. “I take that back. As I recall, it wasn’t so bad, though obviously neither one of us had any idea what we were doing.”
“Lindy, you’re still here,” Paul said as he strolled into the office. He inclined his head briefly in Cait’s direction, but she had the impression he barely saw her. He’d hardly been around in the past couple of days—almost as if he was purposely avoiding her, she mused, but that thought was too painful to contemplate.
“I was just finishing up,” Lindy said, glancing guiltily toward Cait. “We both were.”
“Fine, fine, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’ll see you two in the morning.” A second later, he was gone.
Cait gazed after him with thinly disguised emotion. She waited until Paul was well out of range before she spoke. “He’s so blind. What do I have to do, hit him over the head?”
“Quit being so negative,” Lindy admonished. “You’re going to be sharing an office with him for another five days. Do whatever you need to make darn sure he notices you.”
“I’ve tried,” Cait murmured, discouraged. And she had. She’d tried every trick known to woman, with little success.
Lindy left the office before her. Cait gathered up some stock reports to read that evening and stacked them neatly inside her leather briefcase. What Lindy had said about her being methodical and careful was true. It was also a source of pride; those traits had served her clients well.
To Cait’s dismay, Joe followed her. “So,” he said, smiling down at her, apparently oblivious to the other people clustering around the elevator. “Who have you been kissing these days?”
