“Well, I do,” he said, then paused—dramatically, of course.
“Grant, come on. Spill.”
“Since you asked so nicely… Maggie called.”
CHAPTER SIX
“What?!” I squeaked.
Grant chuckled on the other end. Clearly, that was the response he’d been waiting for from me.
“She called me directly at work yesterday,” he revealed. “I tried calling you, by the way, but it kept going to voicemail.”
“Why didn’t you text me?”
“I wanted to hear your reaction. Then, I had my niece’s ballet recital this morning and into the afternoon. Anyway, yes, Maggie’s alive. Thank goodness. And she said that she’ll be in on Monday. She said she’d had a family emergency, and she was sorry for the lack of communication.”
“So weird,” I muttered, pressing a palm to my forehead. “Anything else?”
“Nope. You know how she is.”
“Yeah…” I said, and laughed—slowly at first, then uncontrollably. “You could’ve been arrested,” I gasped between breaths.
It was ridiculous.We’d broken into a garage.We’d stalked her Instagram. Grant had hacked HR. And she’d merely been…dealing with family stuff. The laughter became hysterical,spilling out in waves until my eyes watered. Grant laughed too, hanging up on me when I wouldn’t stop.
The funniest part of it all was that Colin was right then walking toward me, his crisp dark navy suit tailored to his over-six-foot frame. Only a few minutes ago I was trying to figure out how to ask more indirect questions to get to the bottom of the mystery—a mystery that never existed.
Colin caught the last fits of giggles that kept escaping me, along with a couple of apologies from me as I tried to compose myself.
“Funny call?” he asked, voice smooth, polite.
“I can’t tell you,” I said with a lingering giggle.
He arched an eyebrow. “Well, now you have to tell me.”
I considered it, then shook my head as I covered my mouth with my hand.
Without a word, he held something out—a cocktail glass. He’d brought me aCosmopolitan, the drink I’d mentioned earlier I’d ordered the night before.
Hmm. He’d been paying attention. My hand brushed his as I took it, and something shifted—an awareness of how little space there really was between us.
“If you won’t tell me, you’ll have to share another secret,” he said, his eyes not leaving me for even a second.
“I…well… I don’t have any secrets.”
There was a twinkle in his eye as he asked, “That can’t be true. What about that Grant guy who sits next to you at work? What’s going on there?”
The name alone jolted me back to reality. I must have stayed quiet for far too long because he added, “This is all off the record. I’m not your boss right now.”
Sounds like the start of every sexual-harassment case, I thought suddenly.
But was it bad to wish that’s what he was actually thinking of? I let myself fantasize that this mysterious and powerful man desired me for even a second.
“Grant is just a coworker. Though wedidgo on a date once,” I said.
“It’s obvious he’s into you.” He tilted his head slightly, studying me.
“No way. He hardly paid any attention to me,” I said and recounted the failed evening to my boss/not boss for the night.
