Absurd. Reese couldn’t be jealous of his own father.
And yet, he had to take slow, measured breaths to prevent himself from walking over to the pair, shoving his father aside and insisting Callie pay attention to him. Only him. As if he was some sort of spoiled, selfish child with no manners or common sense.
He managed to avoid stooping quite that low. “Callie.” He barked out her name. “A word, please, in private.”
One stilted sentence and Reese had crossed several unimaginable lines.
His father’s responding grin spoke volumes. As did Callie’s reaction. Had she stiffened at the familiar use of her name? Or because of the inappropriate request itself?
Reese wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. But he made no attempt to retract his words. This conversation had been coming on for some time.
No turning back now.
Years of practiced restraint kept Callie from gasping at Reese’s request. But...but...glory. He’d just asked to speak with her. Alone.
She couldn’t think why.
And that, Callie decided, was the primary source of her distress. Her shoulders wanted to bunch. Her knees threatened to give way beneath her. But she remained perfectly still.
Perfectly.
Still.
No easy task. Not with Reese looking at her with all that intensity. He was so focused on her she had a sudden, irrational urge to rush out of his office without a backward glance.
Callie had never been one to run from a difficult conversation. She would not start now.
Still, Reese’s command, spoken so abruptly, was out of character. Why would he wish to speak with her, alone?
Seeking a clue—any would do—she slid a covert glance over his face. His chin jerked, very faintly, a sure sign that he’d shocked even himself with his words.
“Well, then.” A corner of the elder Mr. Bennett’s mouth curled upward. “I believe that’s my cue to depart.”
Callie started. She’d forgotten Reese’s father still held her hands. Had he noticed the faint tremor in her fingers?
“There’s no need to leave so soon,” she said on an exhale. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded exceptionally calm, almost detached, with the emotional depth of a stone. Perfect. “I’m sure whatever your son has to say can be expressed in front of you.”
She hoped.
“Perhaps. But alas, I have another appointment calling me away.” With a fatherly smile, he gave her hands a quick squeeze before releasing her. “It was a pleasure running in to you, my dear. We must make this a more common occurrence.”
The kindness in his voice, as much as the sentiment itself, calmed her nerves considerably.
“Oh, yes, Mr. Bennett.” She managed to get both sides of her mouth to lift in a responding smile. “That would be lovely, indeed.”
She’d always felt comfortable around this man, as though he was a second father. Callie desperately wanted him to stay but couldn’t think of a reason why he should, other than to beg him to serve as a shield between her and his son.
Callie Mitchell was made of sterner stuff.
“Reese.” Mr. Bennett gave his son a short nod. “We will continue our discussion another time.”
A muscle knotted in Reese’s jaw as he returned his father’s nod with one of his own.
Another smile in Callie’s direction and the elder Mr. Bennett quit the room.
She remained precisely where she stood, twisting the handle of her reticule between her fingers. She hated this anxious, almost panicky sensation spreading through her. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be helped. Simply standing in the same room with Reese caused her anxiety.
She should not be here, alone with him.
She wanted to be nowhere else.
Time slowed. The moment grew thick with tension, the silence between them so heavy that Callie could hear their individual breathing.
“I don’t think this is a wise idea, Mr. Bennett,” she said, mostly to herself, and meaning it with all her heart.
“Callie.” His lips flattened in a grim line. “At this juncture in our acquaintance, perhaps it’s time you called me Reese.”
She looked at him blankly, absently noting the way sunlight from the window emphasized the dark, rich brown of his eyes, the color of freshly brewed coffee. “Oh. But I—”
“I insist.” His tone was both gentle and firm.
A dangerous pang snatched at her heart and the rebellious part of her thought, Well, why not, we’ve known one another for years?
“If you insist.” She lifted her chin a fraction higher. “Then, yes, I should very much like to call you Reese.”
His name came from low in her throat, and sounded really quite wonderful, as if she’d been meant to say his name, just that way, all her life.
She sighed. “Was that all you wished to say to me?”
“No.” He rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Forgive me for not getting to the point sooner. I’ve spent the majority of the afternoon pouring over legal briefs and my mind is still half on the pages.”
His confession softened her guard and Callie found herself feeling a moment of deep affection for this man. “My brother is much the same way,” she said. “After a long day of pouring over contracts, Garrett is the worst conversationalist imaginable.”
Reese visibly relaxed at this. “Then you understand my abruptness earlier.”
“Indeed I do.”
A shadow of a smile played across his lips.
Callie responded in kind.
For that one moment, everything felt right between them, comfortable even, a solidarity that went beyond words.
But then...
Reese’s brow creased in thought. His brow often creased in thought, she realized, rather liking the result. The studious look made him appear half as stern as usual, twice as appealing. And so very, very handsome.
“You mentioned that Mrs. Singletary sent you over to retrieve a package from me.” His brows pulled tighter together, making him appear more confused than thoughtful. “Do you know what package she meant?”
“She didn’t give me any details.” Callie tried to shrug off her own bafflement. “She merely said that you would be expecting me before the end of business today.”
Frowning now, he glanced at his desk.
Callie followed the direction of his gaze, but saw no package, only several piles of papers, a cup of writing utensils, countless ledgers of assorted sizes and an ink pot.
“She must have meant the revised contracts.” Making a sound deep in his throat, Reese moved around to the other side of his desk. Instead of reaching for one of the larger stacks, he placed his hand over a single piece of paper. Folded from top to bottom, it looked more like a letter than a legal brief.
Shaking his head, he muttered something under his breath. Callie didn’t catch all of what he said, but she thought she might have heard something about meddlesome, interfering woman.
“Mr. Bennett...I mean, Reese,” she amended when he looked up sharply. “Is something the matter?”
He drummed his fingers atop the letter. “No.”