Karen Kendall - After Hours

I want to finish it, all right. But not in any way that’s decent or professional. “At this point, there simply isn’t enough time—I have another appointment at 9:15. Do you mind rescheduling?”

“I don’t care, as long as it’s you who does the massage.” And with a last kiss, Troy disappeared into the showers.

LATER, AS PEGGY CLEANED UP after Pilar Morales’s seaweed wrap, she felt like a time bomb. A bomb in a too-tight bra, with no panties on. She’d buried the ripped ones in the trash long before Pilar had arrived.

She still couldn’t quite believe that she’d allowed Troy Barrington to seduce her on the job! She could sterilize and disinfect the place to her heart’s content, but her actions didn’t change the facts.

It’s been a year since Eddie, she told herself. I have a right to a normal libido, especially when a man who looks like Troy comes on to me. Any other woman would have done the same thing….

But it didn’t square her conscience completely. She’d failed miserably at impulse control, yet again.

Peg finished work by throwing the sheets and towels into the wash. She tossed in some soap and started the machine, which made a groaning, churning noise—exactly the way she felt inside. If only she had a rinse cycle to filter out her emotions and fears.

Troy Barrington was probably waiting for her outside already, so they could go have that drink. But after she ditched her white lab coat and threw it into the machine, too, she grabbed her tote bag and ran for the bathroom. Peggy splashed cold water on her face, brushed her teeth and fixed her hair.

She cast a last dissatisfied look into the mirror, pinched her stupid pug nose in a futile attempt to make it narrower—why had he kissed it?—and slung the tote over her shoulder. She took a deep breath and marched out of the bathroom, hoping Shirlie would be gone.

She was, but Marly pounced on her before she could get out the door. “What’s going on, Peggo? Troy Barrington left two hours ago, but he’s now waiting for you outside.”

Peggy became fascinated with the array of nail polishes on the wall behind Marly. “I’m, uh, going to have a drink with him.”

Her coworker stared at her. “What happened to inner balance and a year alone and Peggy Power?”

“It’s just a drink.”

“Uh-huh.” Marly smirked. “Then bottoms up, hon! But I want to hear all about it tomorrow.”

“Just do me a favor, will you? Don’t tell Shirlie.”

“Shirl has a nose like a bloodhound. She’ll sniff it out within seconds.”

“Well, try to keep it from her as long as possible, okay? I think she has a crush on Troy.”

Marly nodded.

“And it’s just a drink.”

“Right.”

“It’s not even dinner.”

“I hear you.”

“I coach his nieces, so we’ll probably just talk about them and how I can help improve their game.”

“Peggy, just shut up already and go meet the guy? He’s right outside the door.”

And he was. With her heart sitting on her tonsils, Peg opened it, walked out tentatively and said, “Hi.”

He seemed amused. “Hi.” Then he reached out and took her hand. “Do you want to go to a bar?”

“We could. Or we could just go to my place or yours and get this out of our systems.”

TROY’S JAW DROPPED OPEN. This woman was nothing if not direct. “Get it out of our systems?”

“You know,” Peggy said, “this lust thing. We both want to act on it. So we should just get it out of the way and move on, don’t you agree?”

Troy stared at her. “No, I don’t agree. I’d like to get to know you.” The words surprised him as much as they seemed to surprise her.

She stared back at him, seeming perplexed, while he felt the same way. This obviously wasn’t the answer she’d expected—and quite frankly it wasn’t the answer he normally would have given. Wasn’t no-strings-attached sex every guy’s fantasy?

“But it’s easier this way,” she argued. “You don’t have to struggle with the first, second, third and fourth down. You just score.”

Troy said, “Where’s the fun in that? It’s like the opposite team handing you the ball and inviting you over the goal line. There’s no game. That sucks.”

“You didn’t seem to object to scoring a couple of hours ago.”

“I certainly did not, but that was a surprise outcome. I didn’t expect that you’d—”

“Be that easy?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Peggy. I don’t think you were easy at all. I sensed there was a real struggle going on inside you. It made me want you even more.”

“Oh, but now that I say I’m ready to jump you, you lose interest. See, it’s all a game. A mind game.”

“I’m not here to play a mind game, and who said I’ve lost interest? You’re being extremely difficult. In fact, most guys would take off at this point.”

“No, they wouldn’t.” Peggy stuck out her chin. “Most guys would take me up on the invitation to my apartment.”

He blew out an exasperated breath. “Okay, you have a point,” he conceded. “But consider the possibility that I might see more in you than a one-night stand, okay?”

Her eyes flashed provocatively. “What if I don’t see the same potential in you?”

Troy stopped and pulled her to him so that their bodies touched. He felt her heartbeat accelerate and smiled. “Then I’ll just have to change your mind, won’t I?” He angled his head toward hers and noted that she raised her mouth for his kiss. Instead of delivering on her expectations, he left her wanting and walked in silence to his car, where he opened the door and turned to hand her in.

She’d stopped, and now she stared from the car to him. She put a hand over her mouth. “You’re the stalker!” She backed away.

Oh, hell. Not this.

“I recognize the car now. I couldn’t figure out why you looked familiar….”

“I’m not a stalker. I was sitting in the parking lot because I’d just come out of Benito’s,” he lied. “And I got a call on my cell phone. Then I saw you notice me, and I was afraid you’d think just what you thought. So I ducked down.”

“Why am I not believing this?”

“Because you have a suspicious nature?” He stared her straight in the eye. “Look, if I were some kind of perverted creep, don’t you think I’d have been more aggressive with you before?”

She chewed her lip. “Well, I did make it pretty easy for you.”

Troy sighed. “Fine. I’m a weirdo and a stalker. I have piano wire, a shovel and a bag of cement in the trunk.” He popped it for her, and she could see that there was nothing there.

“Why did you leave when I told you I’d called the cops?”

“Because I really didn’t want to get into a conversation with them, or be written up for something I wasn’t doing!”

“Oh.”

“Would you like to have that drink now?” He patted the door. “The salon has my name and number, remember.”

She clearly felt foolish now, but still she struggled for the upper hand, like the scrapper she was. “You don’t have to do that,” she told him, finally getting in. “Open doors and put on the gentleman show for me.”

It’s just a stalker thing, honey. She didn’t know it yet, but she was going to lose. “I want to do it. And it’s not a show.” Troy shut the door and walked around the front of the Lotus.

He opened the driver’s-side door and slid in next to her. Peggy’s hair smelled sweet, like jasmine and honey—in marked contrast to her sharp, cynical words. It was yet another contradiction about her that intrigued him.

“Okay, so now that we’ve established that I’m not a stalker,” he said, “why are you trying to sabotage this thing between us before it even gets off the ground?”