Holly Jacobs - Hung Up on You

She just shook her head, folded her arms and waited.

Giving in to the inevitable, Simon said, “Wrong. I was wrong. There. I said it. Are you happy?”

“Yes, you were wrong, and no I’m not happy. Not happy at all. You have no idea what your little mistake has done to me. Done to my life. You’ve turned it upside down. I don’t know if I’ll ever get it right side up.”

She turned her back on him and started walking down the block again.

“Just where are we going?” he asked, walking alongside her.

She had a brisk pace for someone so much tinier than he was. She couldn’t be more than five-four, which gave him seven inches on her.

Ari Kelly was tiny, but fast.

“To the Broad Street subway station. I have to go to Shady Pines to pick up some things for my grandmother.”

“My car’s just up here,” he said, pointing to the next block.

Parking in Ari’s neighborhood was horrendous. He’d been lucky to get this close to her building.

“I could drive you,” he offered.

She studied him, suspiciously. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you want to drive me?”

“Because I’m a helpful sort of guy?”

Again, she just stood there and waited, watching him.

Simon sighed. She’d defeated him not once, but twice, with just her look.

“Because I have a plan to save our behinds,” he said.

“My behind doesn’t need to be saved.” She whipped around and started down the street, her brisk pace even faster than before.

Simon watched the woman as she presented him with an entirely new view of herself.

Actually, her behind didn’t need anything. It sashayed back and forth in a tantalizing sort of way as she strode angrily down the street.

Wow.

The first time he’d met her Simon had been so focused on the article and what it could mean to his company, that he’d totally ignored the fact that Ari Kelly was gorgeous.

Even today, he’d been so worried about admitting he was wrong, that he’d overlooked her looks until right this second.

She was a babe.

Beautiful.

It had taken him well into his second meeting to realize what a looker she was.

What kind of man did that make him?

How could he not notice that this tiny woman packed a mighty big wallop?

A totally, breathtaking sort of wallop.

Her hair was shoulder length and brown. But the word brown didn’t quite describe it. There were these light streaks that really showed up this afternoon as the sun hit them.

And her eyes were brown as well. The way they’d bored into him today guaranteed he’d noticed that.

What he hadn’t really thought about until now was that brown didn’t adequately describe them.

Brown sounded plain and ordinary.

Her eyes were anything but. They sort of sparked with her anger, and he had seen her intelligence in them.

They were the color of brandy, more than just brown.

Warm and dusky.

They made a man think of sex.

Okay, it might have taken him a while to get around to it, but he was thinking of sex now—hot, wild sex.

Celia, his personal nag, had warned him he was spending too much time locked up with the Cindy program, that he needed to leave his computer and mingle with real people.

He argued he knew all the people he needed to know, that he enjoyed his solitude.

Solitude was one thing. But if it took him until his second meeting to notice that Ari Kelly wasn’t just a thorn in his side, then Celia had a point. Because Ari was all woman. A gorgeous woman at that.

She wasn’t just a means to save his company.

Yes, he was forced to admit Celia was right.

Which meant he’d been wrong.

Again.

Darn.

See, once a man admitted he was wrong even once, he ended up admitting it more and more frequently.

He realized that Ari had turned the corner while he stood staring at her, lost in a daze of thought.

Damn.

“Hey, Ari, wait up,” he called.

He was practically jogging as he hurried to catch up with her.

“You’re still here?” she asked, looking less than pleased when he reached her side.

“Just hear me out,” he said, a bit breathless from trying to catch her. “Listen, I’ll drive you where you have to go and tell you my plan. If you’re not interested, at least you’ll have saved on the cost of the subway.”

For a moment, he thought she was going to argue some more. But then she sighed and said, “Fine.”

“Not exactly enthusiastic,” he teased as he led her back toward his car.

“Definitely less than enthusiastic. I told you that your retraction idea was stupid, but you didn’t listen, and now look where I am.”

“Just where are you?”

“A tabloid queen. Disengaged. Unemployed. Rooming with my grandmother. The only reason I’m letting you drive me to the home to get her clothes is that I don’t think things can get any worse.”

Simon felt a stab of sympathy for her.

Oh, he wasn’t going to take the blame for all of Ari’s bad luck, but maybe some of it was his fault.

The tabloid queen part at least.

Well, he’d make it up to her.

He was thrilled she was coming with him because though Ari had been right that his last plan was anything but foolproof, this one was better. It was a plan that would save them both.

He led her to his car. Even opened the door for her.

Rather than looking impressed at his manners, she glared at him.

Convincing Ari to go along with his plan wasn’t going to be easy.

Not easy at all.

WHAT ON EARTH was she doing?

Ari had packed a small—a very small—suitcase for her grandmother, and as Simon drove her home, she’d listened to him extol the virtues of his new plan.

His foolproof plan.

Foolproof?

Ha!

She’d already fallen victim to one of Simon Masterson’s foolproof plans and all it had gotten her was into a worse predicament.

She wasn’t placing the blame for Bubbi moving in on Simon. At least not yet. Maybe down the road she could figure out a way to tie that to him.

He continued to talk about his plan as they drove down Broad Street.

Ari shook her head and was surprised she couldn’t hear the rocks rattle in it. There had to be some clanking around in there, because here she was listening to Simon Masterson again. Simon’s new, improved, insane plan.

Listening to his idea to discredit her good name wasn’t worth the saved subway fare.

“Another study?” she finally asked. “After all the trouble that last study got me into, you want me to voluntarily do another study with your new computer system as the subject? You must think I’m as nutty as you are.”

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