Page 75 of Kiss Me Now
We admired the pandas for a while, and when we had to move on or risk antagonizing the people waiting behind us, we left the exhibit and wandered the path that led toward the park entrance.
“Thanks for taking a break from work with me,” she said.
“Sure. Guess I should probably head back to the office.” Not because the workhadto get done, but because I could feel Brooke drawing me in. Not that she was trying. It was more honest to say I felt myself being drawn to her again. It made the friend zone boundaries blurry.
“Right.” She was quiet for a moment, and it was the first silence to fall between us. It was awkward. Like talking-to-your-boss’s-wife awkward.
“Do you want to get some lunch? We could grab something and eat it at my desk. Not the most exciting offer, but I do know some good places.”
“All food sounds exciting when you’re starving. That sounds great.”
I led her to my car and drove the short distance to a sandwich shop that I knew would have Sherrie’s salad, then drove back to the firm.
As I waved my badge to unlock the front entrance, I wondered how Fleming, Roth, and Schill would look through her eyes. The building was eight stories of glass and chrome with an interior of marble, granite, and wood. Our firm occupied the top three floors, and as we left the elevator, we stepped into the more traditional trappings of law offices: rich mahogany furniture, expensive sculptures on tasteful tables, plush seats in the reception area, beige walls, and burgundy carpets.
I led her through reception into the warren of desks and toward my small office. Normally only partners got offices—and theirs were at least twice the size of my glorified closet—but some of my work required discretion, and an open desk wouldn’t cut it.
“It looks like my assistant stepped out,” I said as we passed Sherrie’s empty desk. I set her salad down.
“Should you refrigerate it?” Brooke asked. “The biology teacher in me freaks out a little about food safety.”
“Nah. She’s close by.”
“How do you know?”
“It hurts my feelings that you think I suck at my job.” I nodded toward Sherrie’s purse, tucked beneath her desk but still visible.
“Ah, right. Sorry, Sherlock.”
I led her into my office and set our food on the desk. She took the client side and started unpacking the bag, an Italian sub for me and a club sandwich for her.
“I thought you liked tomatoes,” I said as she unwrapped the sandwich she’d requested to be tomato-free.
“I do. But Miss Lily’s spoiled me, and now I can’t stand any that don’t come straight off the vine.”
“I see. High maintenance. Got it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. So high maintenance with my ponytail and overalls couture, and my constant need to be in the dirt.”
I grinned. “Gran has that effect on people.”
“She makes them want to be in the dirt?”
“In the garden, anyway.”
“And yet you stayed away for a long time. And you’re staying away again.”
I thought about what I should say here, because Brooke was the reason I was staying away. Telling the truth seemed like another way of pushing on her friend zone boundary, so I shrugged and let it drop. I took a bite of my sandwich to get out of answering.
Brooke took the hint and changed the subject. “Working on anything interesting right now?”
Worst possible subject change.Yeah. The case most likely to upset you.“Uh, couple of big things but kind of boring.”
“I used to find all of this interesting. Maybe I will again. Try me.”
I cleared my throat, trying to figure out what to say, when the office door flew open, and Sherrie barreled in.
“We got him! We got Rink cold!” She was staring down at a file in her hands, but when she looked up, grinning, and spotted Brooke, her smile froze. “Oh, hey. Sorry, Ian. Didn’t know you had company.”
