Page 143 of A Matter of Time

Gail and I watched him walk away before we returned our gazes to one another.

“Wow.” She chuckled. “I had no idea the man had it quite that bad.”

“Knock it off.”

“Oh, Jory,” Gail said suddenly, and her voice had a breathy quality that had been missing before. “I googled your boss and—is this him?”

I leaned over the desk. On her computer screen was the website for Harcourt, Brown, and Cogan, and there, larger than life, was the one and only Dane Harcourt. It was a particularly good shot. The photographer had been lying on the ground looking up at him, and it had been a cloudy day, so the sky and his eyes were the exact same color.

“It is a good picture, isn’t it.” I waggled my eyebrows at her.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me. “You took it.”

“I did.” I chuckled. “Dane didn’t like the guy Miles and Sherman hired—thought he was arrogant—so since we had a deadline for the site…I got elected.”

“It’s a good picture, Jory, perhaps helped by the fact that his eyes look very kind. He obviously likes you if he’s looking at you like that.” She fixed me with a long stare. “Is he gay?”

I snorted out a laugh. “Uh, no. He’s actually the exact opposite of gay. He’s, like, the über-straight guy.”

“You mean⁠—”

“I mean he’s, like, a serial dater.”

She giggled. “Maybe he just hasn’t found the right girl yet.”

“Maybe.”

“Well…” She swallowed. “I get how he can…date so much.”

“Yep,” I agreed. “Much prettier than Doctor Nick or me.”

“Nothing pretty about that man,” she remarked, and I saw the bemused look in her eyes. “How tall is he?”

“He’s six-five.”

“Oh.”

“His eyes are gray.”

“I can see that.”

I chuckled, and she looked up at me.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re just evil.” She smiled at me.

“Why don’t you gimme your number and we can have lunch next week. I’ll invite my boss.”

She wrote it on a Post-it note for me without hesitation.

Phyllis Woodstone came down and collected the envelope from me, gave me a hug, and thanked me profusely. She said that she would love to meet my boss sometime. I told her I’d try to arrange that. She said she was sure the design plans would go for a higher price than the sports car they had and I said I wouldn’t be surprised. A house by Dane Harcourt was one of a kind. I watched Gail’s eyes widen just listening to me talk.

“He’s a big deal,” she said when Mrs. Woodstone left.

“A very big deal,” I agreed as Nick came to stand beside me.