“Why do you need to come inside?”
“Because we need to decide what we’re going to do about Mooney. We can’t put this off until tomorrow.”
She knew he was right, but goodness, she did not want to think about this right now. Of course, if she had been thinking earlier, she wouldn’t have made that impulsive outburst in the first place.
She slid the key in the lock, but before opening the door, she said, “Fair warning: my apartment is the size of your foyer. No judging.”
His head reared back. He looked offended. “Have I come across as the kind of guy who would say anything about the size of your apartment?”
No, he had not. Honestly, he was the most down-to-earth multimillionaire she’d ever met. Okay, so he was the only multimillionaire she’d ever met, but still . . .
She opened the door and led him into the apartment.
“This isn’t so bad,” he said.
“Hey, I never said it was bad. I just said it wasn’t a mansion.”
“Mansions are overrated,” he said, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “The upkeep is a bitch.”
“And you think it’s easy taking care of all this?” she asked with the haughtiest expression she could summon.
Jamar’s smile broadened and a warm sensation fluttered low in her belly.Shit.She really needed to stop flirting with her client.
Taylor took off her jacket and hung it on the hook near the door. She pushed her shirtsleeves up, stuck her hands in her pockets, then pulled them out and crossed her arms over her chest. Why was she suddenly nervous?
“Can I get you a drink?” she asked.
“Sure. Water is fine.” He scratched his left palm, a move Taylor already recognized as a nervous habit he relied on when thinking. Great, so now they were both edgy. This was ridiculous.
He stopped at the bookshelf that held her collection of Disney snow globes and trading pins.
“I take it you’re a fan of Disney?”
“Hugefan,” Taylor called from the kitchen. “Visiting Walt Disney World in Florida is at the top of my bucket list.”
“You have all this Disney stuff and have never been to Disney World? That’s just wrong.”
She detected when he started moving again, the thump of his Timberland boots echoing on her floors. He reached the tiny kitchen and his steps abruptly stopped.
“Are you baking cookies?”
Taylor looked down at the bag of chocolate chips, flour, and sugar that she’d gathered from the pantry without even realizing it.
What the hell?This was not the time to stress-bake!
“No, no.” She shoved the container of sugar to the side, then turned to the fridge and grabbed two bottles of water. She gestured to the sofa. “Have a seat.”
After handing him his water, she perched against the arm of the sofa. She glanced at the twin bed in the corner, whispering a silent prayer of thanks that she hadn’t left something embarrassing in clear view.
“So how do you think we should handle this?” she asked.
Jamar hunched his shoulders. “Contact Mooney and tell him the truth.”
“You know what that would mean for you, don’t you? Months of speculation and random jerks leaving snotty comments online.”
“What else is there to do, Taylor?”
She jumped up and began to pace in front of the sofa. “I know that we can come up with a plan that works for both of us. Now, the most important thing for you is that no one finds out that you want to play football again, right?”
