Part 13 (2/2)

”I'm sorry.”

The noises started up again, softer now.

”Nate, I totally jumped to the wrong conclusion. I should have known you wouldn't do something so irresponsible.” She waited for a response. When none came, she cleared her throat. ”Anyway, I just wanted you to know how badly I feel.”

Man, she was getting d.a.m.n handy with the apologies. Two in less than twenty-four hours. The only problem was, they didn't seem to work.

She turned away.

”You know what p.i.s.ses me off the most?” he said.

Frankie wheeled around as he wriggled his body out and sat up, dangling his hands on his knees. His fingers were black with grime, and when he scratched his forehead, he left a smudge over his eyebrow.

”You didn't even give me a chance to explain.”

She closed her eyes. ”I know. I was wrong. I overslept, came downstairs and saw all that food and...I totally panicked. I've been running this place on a shoestring for so long. I figured you'd forgotten you weren't down in the city.”

”Trust me. I know where I am.” And the tone of his voice suggested he'd rather be in New York.

She didn't blame him. G.o.d, he must miss the excitement, the pace. He'd been here...more than two weeks, she thought. And even though she'd promised him he wouldn't have much to do, he'd been busy in the kitchen as well as working on the house.

”Why don't you take Tuesday night off?” she suggested. ”I can even loan you my car if you want to go into town.”

”You trying to make it up to me?”

”I am.” She offered him a small smile. ”And I want you to know that I really do appreciate the work you've done. That walk-in is positively sparkling and your cooking is wonderful. You've done so much.”

He got to his feet and stared down at her. Didn't seem to be too open to anything she was saying.

”I-ah, I hope that you don't leave.”

”Because business is up, right?”

She nodded and thought he looked annoyed.

”Tell you what.” He crossed his arms over his chest. ”I'll take the night off if you do, too. We'll go into town together.”

He shot her a sardonic smile as she started backpedaling. ”Oh, I don't-”

”Think about it in terms of business.”

She c.o.c.ked an eyebrow.

”Six weeks is a h.e.l.l of a long time. You and I need to figure out how to work together or one of us isn't going to be standing at the end of the summer.”

”Why don't we just talk about it now?”

”Because I'm still p.i.s.sed at you.” She hesitated and he picked up an Allen wrench. ”You can take my offer or not. But if you don't, I'm not going to be here tomorrow morning.”

”That's one h.e.l.l of an ultimatum.”

”And I don't play games. So what's it going to be?”

Frankie looked deeply into his eyes. ”Is seven good for you?”

”Perfect,” he muttered as he got down on the floor and inched back under the car.

On Tuesday night, Nate got out of the shower and toweled off, thinking that he'd never before had to coerce a woman into having dinner with him. Threatening to quit a job was a new addition to his dating repertoire and he couldn't say he was happy with the fresh approach.d.a.m.n that woman. She'd pushed him away, refused his friends.h.i.+p and then insulted him. Not once, but twice. And he still wanted her. What the h.e.l.l was it going to take to turn him off? Having her knock him upside the head with a two-by-four? He was a man who thrived on challenges, but this was ridiculous.

And no matter how many times he reminded himself that they weren't going on a date, he supposed on some deep level he was hoping she'd be dazzled by him and come around. But no doubt that wouldn't happen unless something hit her on the head.

So this was desperation. G.o.d, what a drag.

Nate left his room wearing clean everything. Socks and boxers were just out of the wash. Khakis and the faded polo s.h.i.+rt were fresh from the duffel. He looked as presentable as he ever got.

He tried to remember the last time he'd been in a suit. Years, probably. Ties irritated the h.e.l.l out of him and the only jackets he could stand were the top half of chef's whites. And the GQ rebellion stuff wasn't a new trend. He and his mother had always fought over his wardrobe and she'd given up only when he'd moved away from home and she didn't see him anymore.

So it felt a little odd for him to be wondering what Frankie would think if he were a sharp dresser.

She was waiting for him in the kitchen and he clamped his mouth shut so he didn't blurt out how good she looked. She was wearing a long, loose skirt and she'd left her hair down. Her blouse was just tight enough so that the curve of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s showed.

”You ready?” he asked.

She nodded as she picked up her bag and her keys. ”George? We're going.”

The man came in from the pantry. ”Where you guys headed?”

”Nowhere special and we'll be home soon.”

Nate wanted to shake his head. Yup, this was a woman looking forward to being alone with him, all right. Man, she kept at it and his ego was going to be the size of a cherry tomato at the end of the summer.

”Joy's going to heat up some dinner for you all,” she said to George.

”I can do that. She's busy with Grand-Em.”

Frankie smiled at the man. ”You're thoughtful. We'll see you later.”

”So where are we going?” Nate asked as they stepped out the back door and walked over to the Honda. The night was coming on and the temperature cooling.

”The Silver Dollar Diner. The only other choices are tourist joints that are more bar than restaurant. They're noisy, full of college kids out for the summer. It would be hard to talk business in them.”

Nate smiled grimly as she opened her own door.

Right. Business. This was all about business.

He'd known carpenter ants who were less single-minded than she was.

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