The Executive's Decision
Page 13

Zach gave a snort. “She’s not much into the workplace relationship.”
“This is the one you let ride to work on your lap?” John slapped him on the shoulder then walked back around his desk. “Mary Ellen mentioned it. I went to see the baby.”
“Fairly efficient yourself,” Zach joked, and then watched the sway of Regan’s hips as she turned the corner from the site to the street. “Yeah, she’s the one.”
“Just remember you have to work with her, and she’s the one with all the inside knowledge to screw you over.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
“Though I don’t think she’s like that.”
“No, I don’t either.” As tight-lipped as he’d found Regan to be, he couldn’t imagine she’d be the kind of woman to ruffle anyone’s feathers.
John sat back in his chair and kicked his feet up on the desk. “Good luck with all of that. I have to say, I like her.”
Zach liked her too—and wasn’t that cause for serious concern. He said goodbye to John and followed her.
She’d taken off the hard hat and freed her hair from the band that had held it in place. She was running her fingers through her hair when he met up with her.
She clutched her note pad and hat close to her chest as she walked, like a schoolgirl with a stack of books. She looked innocent and happy. But just from the way she usually reacted to him, he knew she was protective against men.
Without looking at him, she acknowledged him by speaking. “I’ve never ridden that far up in a construction elevator before.”
“I thought you were an executive’s assistant in real estate.”
“Sure, but he didn’t build buildings. He had them built for him. By the time I rode the elevators, they were inside the building, and so were the walls.”
“It can be a little unnerving the first time.”
“To say the least. How old were you the first time you walked twenty stories in the air with no walls?”
“I was six and as excited as any boy could have been seeing the big machines that built buildings.” Even as a grown man, the thought made his stomach bubble with excitement. “My father had his finger looped through my belt buckle the entire time. I think he knew I would try to run from one side to the other and not stop.”
She laughed, and it unleashed that need for her that she wouldn’t release to him. Her laugh would haunt him in his dreams if he let it.
She kept her eyes forward as they walked. “So what are your big plans for the weekend?”
“Well, of course the luncheon at my mother’s. Then I have tickets to the symphony on Sunday.”
“Symphony? Oh, that sounds nice. Well you’ll enjoy yourself. I haven’t been in years.” She sighed with a smile. “Sunday I have dinner plans that include pie.”
“Ah.” He wondered if she’d added that quickly so that he wouldn’t be tempted to ask her to attend the symphony with him, which he’d intended to do. “Dinner with the doctor?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.” She lowered her head and bit down on her lip. Zach wondered if there was a problem with the doctor. Perhaps the other man who’d answered her door.
“I guess I won’t see you until Friday then, or even Monday if everything goes as planned in Los Angeles.”
As they neared the office building, she swung her arms freely, the notebook still in her hands. “Your suitcase is by your elevator. Your folder with your tickets and itinerary are on your desk. A car will be waiting for you at the airport. And the tiramisu is in the fridge in your office. I cut it into servable slices. She just needs to put it on an elegant tray.”
“You got the tiramisu?” He stopped and she turned to him.
“Yes. It’s in the fridge.”
“I’d forgotten about it. I just threw that in the mix, never assuming…”
“If you say you need it, I get it done. That is my job.” She lifted her brows, smiled, and started to walk again.
He jogged to catch up to her. “Let me know where you bought it. She’ll expect me to come up with it again.”
“I didn’t buy it, I made it. I’ll bill you,” she said on an airy laugh as she walked through the revolving door and toward the bank of elevators while he stood on the sidewalk wondering how on earth he was going to prove to her she could trust her heart with him.
Carlos threw bags of barbecue on the table then turned and grabbed two forks. He handed one to Regan and sat down across from her.
Regan opened one of the takeout trays and stuck her fork into the potato salad. “Since you started sleeping on the couch, I swear it’s started to sag. Not to mention, you’re going to make me fat by bringing in all this beer and takeout every night.”
“Mom wouldn’t want me starving you on my time off.” He set down two glasses filled with ice and split a can of soda between them.
“Speaking of time off, haven’t found a job?”
“No. No one wants a Puerto Rican dancer with a receding hairline.”
She covered her mouth to keep the food from flying out. “Puerto Rican dancer? Is that your new talent?”
“No, but hell of a way to pick up ladies,” he said spooning potato salad into his mouth with a smile and a raise of his brows.
“Didn’t think you were interested in the ladies right now.”
“I got divorced, Regan. I didn’t die.” He grabbed a rib from another container and began to pull the meat from the bone with his teeth. “I think I should be thinking of other women. It’s healthy. At least if I’m thinking of other women, I’m not thinking of Madeline and that man.”
“It’s been two years,” she said softly, resting her hand on his.
“Two years to just give up, is that what you’re saying?”
“Carlos…”
“Sorry. I’m just in a bad mood about it all. You share your life with someone, and then one day it’s over. Worse is when she runs to your best friend for support and now he’s married to her.”
“She didn’t run off with him.”
“I know. It just makes me feel better about being so mad.” He drank down his soda. “Anyway, I’m just looking for that silver lining that Mom’s always talking about. Single and sleeping on my sister’s couch is not a positive in my life, no offense.”