“Caught,” I admitted, shooting him a guilty smile. “Look, you can’t have weird secret buttons inside your desk drawer and not expect people to push them.”
For the first time in days, a small smile tugged at his lips.
“I don’t usually expect people to sit in my desk chair.”
“I was looking for your phone cord,” I admitted. “Madison asked me to see if you left it at home. You did.”
“Where?”
“My shoe.”
“Those damn shoes,” he said, shaking his head, but he didn’t seem annoyed, just resigned about their frustrating existence. “Thanks for bringing it. I could have had John bring it over.”
“He offered.”
“Yeah?” he asked, his head tipping to the side.
Something in him seemed to ease. The guard that I’d felt slammed down fully around him lowered ever so slightly.
“Yeah. But I figured I should bring it.”
“Why’s that?”
I wasn’t about to admit it was because I wanted to see him, to maybe hear him say something other than “Dinner’s ready” or “I’m going to the gym” to me.
I shrugged a shoulder.
“I don’t know.”
Harrison sucked in a deep breath, pausing to hang up his suit jacket, then closing the door.
“You haven’t said more than two words to me in a week, but you wanted to bring my phone to my office?” he asked.
“Youhaven’t been talking to me.”
“Conversation goes both ways, sweetheart.”
The name didn’t sound soft and sweet like it usually did; it sounded sad, tired.
“Yeah, well, you’re better at it.”
“I’m only better at itnowbecause you’re angry with me. You had no problem talking to me in Vegas.”
There was no denying that. I’d told him things I rarely told anyone. Even if I didn’t have much of a memory of it.
“My stocks are doing well,” I told him.
His smile didn’t even try to reach his eyes.
“I knew you’d be good at it if you set your mind to it.”
He moved closer to the desk as he spoke, making me remember I was in his seat.
“Do you want me to leave?” I asked, getting to my feet.
“I want a lot of things,” he said, moving forward to trap me behind the desk. “That’s not one of them.”
My belly flip-flopped.
