Susan Andersen - Hot & Bothered

VICTORIA PAUSED IN THE doorway of Ford’s second office the next afternoon and watched John as he sat with the telephone receiver clasped between his ear and a hunched-up shoulder, scribbling furiously on a legal pad that sat at an angle on the desk in front of him. She didn’t understand why her father had felt the need for two offices, but the south wing that housed this one had been added while she was abroad, so perhaps he’d had plans to turn his old office into something else. That wasn’t really important, anyway. She only knew she’d chosen this room for Rocket’s use because it was farther away from the heart of the house than Father’s original study.

Which hardly explained why she was standing there staring at John’s muscular shoulders and the bunch and release of the sinews in his forearm as he wrote with the twisted, upside-down awkwardness of a leftie. You’d think she’d never seen silky black hair feathering a guy’s arms before. Shaking off a niggle of unease that whispered she’d never found any features on another man quite so virile as this one’s, she stepped into the room.

And heard him murmur, “You’re the woman, Mac. You sure you won’t change your mind about running away with me?”

Well, there’s a reality check for you. The guy was a lady-killer and she’d be wise to keep that in mind. Composing her features to reveal nothing beyond polite disinterest, she waited until he’d hung up the phone before saying, “You wanted to see me?”

His head jerked up and she froze as something hot and dangerous flashed in his eyes. Then his face went neutral and, setting down his pen, he reached for his coffee cup. Bringing it to his lips, he took a sip, and looked at her over its rim. “I thought you might like a progress report.”

She took an eager step toward the desk, her momentary discomfort forgotten in a wash of anticipation. “Have you found Jared, then?”

“No, not yet. But I will.”

Swamped with disappointment, she nevertheless gave him an apologetic grimace as she pulled out the chair across from him and sank onto its edge. “I guess it was naive to jump to that conclusion in the first place. I know it’s too soon to get my hopes up.”

“It’s too soon for me to have much to report, as well, but I’ve found that most clients appreciate being kept up to date. So if you’re interested…?”

“Yes. Please. My imagination has conjured up some truly horrendous scenarios, so to have something—anything—else to think about would be helpful.”

“I talked to Jared’s friends Dan Coulter and Dave Hemsley. Unfortunately he hasn’t contacted them.”

Her disappointment deepened. “Could they be lying? Perhaps they think they’re protecting him, or that telling you where he is would break that unwritten adolescent code not to rat out your fellow teen.”

“It’s possible, Tori, but I’ve interviewed a lot of teenagers over the years, and it’s taught me to pay attention to their body language and the nuance in their conversations. Kids are my specialty and these two struck me as a couple of straight shooters whose biggest secret was having attended a rave and a few beer blasts.”

She wanted to be stoic. She meant to be stoic. But she couldn’t prevent the low moan that slipped past her compressed lips.

“Heeey,” he crooned, leaning forward. “This is not the end of the world. It eliminates the easiest possibility, but it also gives us more eyes and ears around town. I stressed the seriousness of Jared’s situation to his friends, as well as the danger he could be in, and asked them to put out the word. Jared doesn’t have a girlfriend, which is unfortunate, since teenage boys often tell their girls things they’d never say to their buddies. But kids talk, and Dan and Dave swore they’d call me if he gets in touch with anyone they know.”

“So if he isn’t hiding out at a friend’s house here in town, what now?”

“I go talk to the cops. I generally do that right off the bat, but decided to talk to his friends first this time instead.”

“The police seemed pretty determined to make Jared their prime suspect when I talked to them.” Her stomach flip-flopped at the memory of that conversation.

John merely shrugged. “If they don’t feel like sharing, I’ll go talk to the cab companies and see if any fares were picked up in this neighborhood on the night of your father’s death. If I get a hit, I’ll talk to the cab driver and show him Jared’s picture. And if that doesn’t produce anything, I’ll take his photo to the airport and bus station to see if anyone remembers selling him a ticket.” He reached across and stroked gentle fingertips atop the hands she hadn’t even realized she’d clasped tightly on the smooth cherrywood surface of the desk in front of her. “I will find him, Victoria.”

She appreciated the reassurance, but his touch registered clear down to her toes, and she sat back in her chair, easing her hands out from beneath his long fingers. Looking around the office to avoid meeting his eyes, she found the distraction she sought and frowned in puzzlement. “There’s something wrong with this room. I can’t quite put my finger on it—whether it’s a dimension or a spatial aberration, or maybe it’s just the color scheme, which isn’t my cup of tea. But something about the office is off. It bugs me that I can’t figure out what.”

He leaned back, his dark eyes bright with interest. “That’s right—you’re an architect. As I recall, you were on the fast track at some hotshot firm when I knew you. You were in line to become…an associate, wasn’t it? Did that happen for you?”

“No. Well, they offered me the position, but I had to turn it down.”

“You’re kidding me!” Straightening, he stared at her. “I remember you being totally psyched about that promotion—wasn’t it your design or something that landed a big contract?”

“Yes.” She smiled at the memory.

“So, why the hell would you turn down something you’d been working so hard to attain?”

“Esme.”

“You walked away because you had a kid? That’s kind of a fifties attitude, don’t you think? News flash, darlin’, lots of women actually handle both.”

“Well, thank you for the tip, Miglionni.” Anger erupted and for once it didn’t occur to her to try to contain it. “You think it was an easy decision? I loved that job and I was damn proud of my work. But it also required putting in more than sixty hours a week and I’ve got a little news flash of my own, darlin’. I know what it’s like to have a parent whose work is more important than his kids. I wanted better for my child.”

Feeling agitated and restless, she climbed to her feet. She had to get out of here. Somehow Rocket pulled a multitude of feelings and sensations out of her without even trying, and she wanted no part of them. The last time she’d felt this way had also been with him, and in the end it had nearly broken her heart. So she was so gone. But first…

She stared down the length of her nose at him. “I have a suggestion for you. Go talk to those women who do it all. Ask them if they’d stay home with their children if they could afford it. You might be surprised at how many would leap at the chance. I know I’m fortunate to have the resources that gave me a choice, so guess just how much your input means to me? You’re the last person I’d ever solicit an opinion from on parenting. My God, you bullied your way into moving in here with unfounded accusations that I never in a million years would have thought to do. Not to mention that subtle threat to make things ugly for everyone involved if you weren’t given the opportunity to get to know your daughter.” She ignored the fact that she was using him in return for protection.