No joke.In fact, I'd beensodistracted I'd nearly blurted out my name.
And here was the craziest thing of all.I was kind of wishing I had.
The guy was clever, hot, and funny – a deadly combo if I'd ever seen it. And he'd invited me to watch a movie – not justanymovie, but one of my favorites.
But…he couldn't be serious.
Or should I say…surelyhe couldn't be serious?Smartass.
Skip gave a loud sigh. "It's nothing to smile about."
Damn it. Iwassmiling. With a mental kick, I wiped the smile from my face. "Sorry."
"For what?" Skip demanded. "Being late or smiling about it?"
"Does it really matter?" I tried to look contrite. "Maybe I'mdoublesorry…like for both, I mean."
Hearing myself, I couldn't help but cringe.Where was my dignity?
Probably, I'd left it in Chicago, along with an apartment that might now be empty for all I knew. I'd called the property management company at least five times, but had yet to reach an actual person who could help.
I meant that literally. As far as I could tell, no live humans ever manned the phones. So I'd left several voicemails promising I'd pay if only they'd give me a few days to square away the credit card.
I hadn't received a single call back, which meant…what, exactly?
My thoughts were still churning when Skip said, "You should betriplesorry."
I blinked in confusion. "Excuse me?"
"Because you were late yesterday, too."
Obviously he meant from lunch. But this, too, was because of Ryder, who'd been standing – aka notcrouching– in the middle of the road. The guy reallywasshameless.
Skip let out a groan. "And you're doing itagain!"
Shit.
Smiling. That's what he meant.
But in my own defense, I was finding it pretty hardnotto. But then, my smile disappeared for good when I suddenly realized something. "Wait a minute…if you're back here, who's manning the front?"
Someonehad to be manning it, because for one thing, I didn't hear any yelling.
Skip gave a breezy wave of the spatula. "Don't worry, it's covered."
"By who?" I perked up. "Did you hire someone?"
His feet shifted on the stool. "Notexactly."
I glanced toward the connecting door. "What doesthatmean?"
"She just sort of…you know, started helping herself."
"You mean…to coffee?"
"And a scone, too," he said. "And then, she served the guy behind her – and then, a couple of complainers after that, so I figured, 'Why not let her run with it?'"
I stared up at him.What an asshat.
