closet?” She resisted rolling her eyes, though she felt like doing it. “Sorry to disappoint you. I work here.”
“Do you?” He paused just long enough to increase her fury. “I was at the ribbon-cutting ceremony last month. Dr. Richie was there. Along with all the counselors and administrators of the clinic and even a few from the hospital.” He raised one dark, sleek eyebrow. “I didn’t see you there.”
She pursed her lips, wondering what he’d do if she just let go and launched herself at his throat. “It would have been pretty strange if you’d seen me there. I didn’t attend. I was out of town.”
“Ah.”
He didn’t believe her? What was he, a security guard she hadn’t run across in her few weeks working here? If so, maybe they needed a seminar on employee-to-employee relations.
“So now you’ve decided I’m a burglar?”
“I don’t know what you are. I’m just wondering why you’re in this closet.”
She’d had enough of this. If he wasn’t going to move, she was going to have to scrunch past him. Setting her jaw, she did just that and looked up defiantly.
“I’m not in it anymore. Happy?”
He turned, following her progress across the office, and she had second thoughts. Didn’t security guards usually wear uniforms, or at least a badge of some sort? He didn’t have either. And if he worked here, he should know about her. Shouldn’t he?
Reaching out, she grabbed the brass nameplate from her desk and held it up for him to see.
“This is me. Abby Edwards. Public Relations. And this is my office.” She set the plate back down and fixed him with a stare, folding her arms across her chest. “Can I help you with something?”
He shrugged, jamming his hands down into the pockets of his jacket and looking her over in a way she found particularly insolent.
“What exactly were you doing in there?” he asked, giving the closet a quick scan before looking back at her. “Besides the termites, I mean.”
She met his gaze levelly, but she had a moment of unease. Could he possibly be someone in the chain of command here at the clinic—someone she should be treating like a boss? But no. It seemed unlikely. He just didn’t have the right look. She could relax and give as good as she got.
“Hmm. Just what was I doing in that supply closet?” She pretended to think it over for half a second. “I’d say it was pretty obvious to anyone who was paying attention. Dealing with supplies would have been my first choice. Still, others may differ.”
“These supplies?” He indicated the piles stacked around the edge of the office. “That’s a lot of stuff to move.” He looked at her assessingly. “Tell you what. I’ll help you.”
She frowned. What the heck was this guy’s game, anyway? He’d come out of nowhere and now he wanted to help. If he was so suspicious of her, maybe she ought to return the favor.
“Wait a minute. Who are you exactly?”
He hesitated, then held out his hand. “Name’s Daniel O’Callahan,” he said shortly. “Nice to meet you, Abby Edwards.”
She glanced at his hand. It looked strong and tanned, the fingers long and tapered, the nails neat and even. For a split second, she considered refusing to shake hands with him. But she knew immediately that would be a mistake. Hey, she was supposed to be spreading good feeling, not making enemies. Gritting her teeth, she put her slender hand in his and felt a jolt as his warmth enveloped her.
She pulled her hand back a little too quickly and immediately regretted it when she saw the glint of humor in his eyes. Now he was laughing at her. This was possibly the most infuriating man she’d ever dealt with in her life.
“You still haven’t explained what you are doing here,” she said sharply.
“Haven’t I?” He grinned at her, going into a casual slouch that showed how very relaxed he was. By now his body language was telling her that he was completely at home and obviously feeling in control of things.
“No, you haven’t. Why don’t you tell me what you want and I’ll try to direct you to the office where they can help you.” There you go. Maybe she could get rid of him.
“What do most people who come to this clinic want?” he countered.
“To improve their lives,” she said promptly. “To attain a natural state of well-being through nutritional counseling, a fitness regimen and self-awareness instruction.”
He shrugged. “Count me in.”
She studied him for a long moment, glanced at the tight, narrow set of his hips, the thigh muscles that bulged beneath the fabric of his slacks, then back at the cocky set of his shoulders and head.
Nope. She just wasn’t buying it.
Of course, it was conceivable that the look of fitness and assurance was just a facade. Perhaps beneath that cocky exterior lay a hidden supply of raging neuroses. It was possible that this was all a front to hide his insecurities.
Possible, but not very likely. Not with that look in his eyes.
“What aspect of our services would you be interested in?” she asked him incredulously.
“The whole rigmarole I guess. Tell me about it.” Snagging an office chair, he swung down into the seat, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Do you have a brochure of your product line?”
“Yes. But it’s not current. We’re having new ones printed up that are more informative.” One of her main projects since she’d been hired earlier in the summer had been to revamp the marketing plan. “Tell you what. If you come to the seminar tomorrow night, I’ll make sure you get a copy of the new ones.”
His nod was saying, “Okay,” but the look on his face was saying that wasn’t going to satisfy him. “Why not just give me a brief rundown right now?”
She hesitated. “I hate to try to do that.” She slumped down into the chair behind the desk, then leaned toward him confidentially. “Okay, I’ll be honest with you. Everything is in chaos right now. Once I get moved into this office and have a chance to go over the inventory and the scheduling routines, I’ll be able to give you a clearer picture. In the meantime…”
Reaching out, she picked up a flyer and handed it to him. “There you go. Seven-thirty on Tuesday, in the Blue Bayou Room.” Spinning in her chair, she took another look at the piles she still had to deal with.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me here.”
Daniel gazed at her speculatively. He knew he’d just been dismissed, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He hadn’t succeeded in getting any closer to the truth about what was going on at this clinic, but at least he’d made a start. Developing a relationship with Abby Edwards, PR person, should give him a lot of access to the inner workings of the place. Besides, he had to admit, he didn’t mind the view.
She hadn’t seemed all that attractive at first. Despite her luxuriously long brown hair and her deep-brown eyes with the golden flecks, she wasn’t classically beautiful. In fact, his initial reaction had been negative. She’d come across as a know-it-all with a chip on her shoulder.
But once she’d settled down and started talking about her work here at the clinic, her natural warmth had taken over and her face had become animated in a way that was quite winning.
Abby Edwards wasn’t so bad.
Still, she very much wasn’t his type.
What was his type exactly? Hard to tell. A picture of Charlene flashed in his mind but he shoved it away. No, Charlene wasn’t his type either. Experience had borne that out. In fact, he probably didn’t have a type. He was just a guy wedded to his job. The fact that that job