on how you define progress.”
“Moving forward.” Having pages to type. The last notebook was nearly transcribed and still no new ones had appeared. Which wouldn’t be so terrible, if he was busy editing what had already been written, but as far as she could tell that wasn’t happening either.
“Interesting definition.” Tearing the top sheet from the pad, he added it to the collection of yellow wads on the floor.
Kelsey watched it arc and drop. “So I lied to Stuart.”
“If you say so. Why would you tell him something you didn’t know for certain?”
“I thought I was doing you a favor.”
“A favor?”
“By keeping your editor off your back.” His suspicious tone made her bristle. “You sound like I have some ulterior motive.”
He shrugged. “Maybe you do.”
Jeez. And she thought relations between them had thawed over the last couple days. Ever since he’d repaired her coffee mug, albeit poorly, she’d felt closer. So much for that illusion. “What could I possibly be after?”
“You tell me.”
“Oh, brother.” Shooting him a dramatic eye roll, she leaned against the door frame. “You caught me. Getting your medicine, lying to Stuart—they’re part of a grand ploy to soften you up. Really, you should hear yourself sometimes.”
“Do you blame me?”
The truth? Not really. But they needed to get past this issue. “You’re not the first person to get burned by the people around him,” she replied in a gentler voice.
“What’s that mean?”
“Nothing.” She wasn’t about to get into a contest over who had suffered a bigger betrayal. “Look, I thought I was helping. Next time I’ll tell Mr. Lefkowitz the truth. That better?”
“Better would be not telling Stuart anything at all.”
“I have to tell him something.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s my job, and he needs to know.” She let out a long, calming breath. “Not everyone is out to get you, Alex, or get something from you.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“Wow.” She understood his bitterness; she really did. But why couldn’t he see she wasn’t the enemy? Hadn’t they made any headway over the past few weeks? “I’m beginning to see why he’s paying me extra to work here.”
Not wanting to wait to hear his response, which wasn’t going to be something she wanted to hear anyway, she went to her room. Sometimes she wanted to kick Alex Markoff for his obstinacy. All she wanted was to be his friend.
Really, that’s what you want? His friendship?
Yes, that was all. Sure, she was attracted to Alex. Incredibly attracted. But hit and run affairs weren’t really her style. Affairs weren’t her style, period. And neither was acting on her attraction—assuming Alex was remotely interested. Which, seeing as how he trusted no one, wasn’t likely.
Screw it. She peeled off her cotton tank top and threw it on the bed. If he didn’t care about his manuscript getting done, why should she?
A knock sounded on her door. “Kelsey?”
What now? Grabbing her tank, she thrust it back on and opened the door. “What?”
A pair of very contrite eyes met hers, killing every ounce of her earlier acrimony. “Is Stuart really paying you extra to work here?”
“If I say yes, will you use it against me?”
His mouth had come dangerously close to curving into a smile. “I’ll try not to.” He looked around at the bare bones bedroom, checking out the setting like it was the first time he’d been there. “You’re very neat,” he said all of a sudden.
“Makes packing easier.” As well as moving on.
Alex nodded, and in her mind she wondered if he wasn’t agreeing with both points.
The coffee mug he had repaired sat crookedly on top of the bureau. He walked over and picked it up. “Not my best repair job in the world, that’s for sure. I notice you don’t use it, so I was right—it doesn’t hold liquid.”
“I didn’t try.” She’d been afraid to find out lest it fall apart again. After seeing it smashed to bits, she wasn’t about to take any chances. Even now she was fighting the urge to slip the mug from Alex’s grasp. “Why are you here? Did you knock on my door merely to confirm my pay rate?”
“Ah, so he is paying extra.” Setting down the mug, he continued his tour, stopping at the window. His broad shoulders filled the frame. “How much?”
The appropriate answer would be “none of your business,” but the truth came out without second thought. “Triple.”
“Triple.” He took a moment to let the answer sink in. “Says it all, doesn’t it. That why you took the job? For the money?”
“Yes.”
The look crossing his face as he turned was a mixture of surprise and admiration. “I appreciate the honesty. Though I have to say, you don’t strike me as the mercenary type.” He cocked his head to study her better. “What’s your story, Kelsey Albertelli?”
Now was the time to tell him to bug off, same as he did whenever she asked a personal question. “It’s complicated.”
“How so?”
“Now who’s prying into whose private business?”
“Point taken,” he replied with a nod. Sincerity marked every feature and Kelsey realized, with more than a little admiration, that he wouldn’t press her for more. He was respecting her privacy.
Her chest swelled. She wasn’t used to respect. The notion that someone would honor her privacy made her feel … well, special, she supposed. She stared into Alex’s eyes, feeling herself being drawn in.
The two of them were a lot alike, weren’t they? Both keeping the world at arm’s length, rather than offering or asking more than necessary. Her chest went from being tight to feeling warm and full. The feeling grew bigger and started inching its way outward, down her limbs and to her toes. A nebulous longing to be closer gripped her. Suddenly sharing her story didn’t sound all that horrible.
“My grandmother, she—”
“No need to explain.” He held up a palm. “You’re right. I was prying.”
Kelsey smiled. Again she appreciated the respect, despite the fact it restored their distance to arm’s length.
“And thank you,” he continued, “for covering with Stuart. I’m not used to—well, it’s been a long time since someone did me a favor for no reason.”
“I understand.”
“I know.” His long assessing look reached deep inside her, stirring emotions she couldn’t identify.
And wasn’t really sure she wanted to.
A week later, Alex had a doctor’s appointment to check out his arm. Since he couldn’t drive his stick shift, Kelsey drew chauffeur duties. Normally she wouldn’t mind, but she’d failed to factor in what it would be like sharing an enclosed space with Alex. His long frame mere inches from hers. His body heat mingling with hers the entire trip, filling the air with his scent. His hand rested on the armrest, close enough to her that when she touched the gearshift, the underside of her forearm would brush across his knuckles. Thank goodness, she chose to take her car rather than Alex’s sports car. Driving a standard, with the distraction of continually touching him—no matter how lightly—would