“That’s what I’m screaming about.” Andy lifted her wine glass in salute. “I need to go out there and measure the entire property myself. So that’s great.”
As much as I hated trips to Wellesley, she was right. The numbers didn’t make sense, and she couldn’t get new plumbing or electrical underway without clean plans. “We should have time tomorrow or Friday.”
“You don’t have to go with me.”
“No, I really do.” I grimaced. “I told Shan I’d make some decisions about the furniture.”
Andy shook her hair over her shoulders, and I started wondering how long I should wait before asking her to spend the night with me. I needed some Andy time. Weekends weren’t enough. I was certain she’d say no for any number of bullshit reasons, though I hoped none of which included her doubting her decision to see me these past few weekends. Was it even possible? Her insistence that weeknights didn’t work, and that she couldn’t miss a Saturday yoga class seemed bizarre, even for Andy. The mocking reminders that she pushed me away before were never fully retreated.
“Okay, but you’re not allowed to spend the entire day in the bell jar,” she said.
The original visit wasn’t my finest hour, and spending the afternoon snarling at everyone in my path wasn’t especially mature. But she noticed, and tracked my mood to the house rather than my general irritability.
“You’ll have to keep me in line.”
Andy’s eyes narrowed and she leaned across the table, her lips twisting into a smirk. “Does that mean I get to spank you?” she whispered.
Andy never mixed business and pleasure; an armload of icy glares over the past few weeks taught me that. I swallowed, my fingers tightening on the stem of the glass as I set it down. I sensed a door inching open.
“Definitely,” I laughed, my hand darting out to caress her wrist. She gave a pointed stare to my hand and a brief frown crossed her face, but she didn’t pull back. “You can do anything you want to me.”
Andy offered a suggestive smile, and there was nothing sexier. I was in big trouble, and considering the way her pulse was hammering under my fingers, I wasn’t alone.
“Come home with me.”
Looking disappointed, she broke my gaze but didn’t pull her hand away. “I can’t. I have work to do.”
Did she forget that I knew exactly which projects were under her care and which milestones were on deck? I scanned all of our current projects, plus the random queries that I frequently sent her way, and still couldn’t come up with a single item that required her attention on a Wednesday night. Grabbing her hand when we exited the restaurant, I tugged her toward Hanover Street. A few fluffy inches of snow blanketed the cobblestone streets and there was much more to come.
“What work? You can’t do anything on Wellesley until we get out there, and that’s your only pending project.”
Andy stared at the sidewalk and fought to restrain a smile. That got my attention. “I can’t tell you.”
“Yeah…that’s the perfect thing to say if you want me to ask a million questions and not give up until you answer. What are you working on?”
“This must be what multiple personalities feel like.” Rubbing her forehead, Andy released a rueful laugh before meeting my gaze. “My boss—I might have told you about him before—he always makes up these pop quizzes for me. Every morning, he picks the most unworkable problems from the projects we have—sometimes, when he’s annoyed with the world, projects that other people have—and he tells me to figure it out.”
Okay. We’d deal with me being a giant prick some other time. If this was what she needed, this was a game I could play. “Sounds like an insufferable bastard.”
Andy laughed, nodding. “That’s one way to put it. So he gives me these problems in the morning, and I have to figure them out like…on the spot. And if I get them wrong, he won’t eat lunch with me.”
When she described it that way, I was the odds-on favorite for Boston’s Top Douche.
“I really like eating lunch with him. He finds the best places, and he’s funny and radiates megawatts of knowledge. I’ve told you my goal in life is to learn everything I can from him. So…I started reviewing all the plans the night before, and trying to figure out what he’d ask, and doing a lot of research to be prepared with the right answer. That’s what I have to do tonight.”
I laughed, thrilled to discover I was blocking my own cock.
“I seriously doubt that your boss radiates anything, but I’m guessing he’s giving you problems he hasn’t figured out, and then taking you to lunch because he likes the way your brain works. He’s also trying to get into your pants.” Andy licked her lips and gifted me with a quick smile from under her thick lashes. “Maybe if you told him you like having lunch with him, you could take a night off.”
“Trust me—he radiates. I spent years waiting to work with him. You’re going to think I’m a major geek, but…his thesis was kind of like my bedtime story all through college.”
Holy fuck. My grasp on her hand tightened. “You read my—wait. What?”
I remembered Andy insisting the only apprenticeship she wanted was the one we were offering, but I filed it away as standard interview-speak.
She lifted a shoulder. “Yeah. At the end of my second year. I read it and…it spoke to me. Whenever I was uninspired or unmotivated or confused, I’d read it and remember why I wanted to do this. It always brought me back to what I loved about preservation.”
Apparently, I wasn’t the only creeper. It shouldn’t have been sexy to imagine Andy reading the least interesting thing I wrote in college, but images of her poring over my thesis in nothing more than funky knee socks inundated me.
