Authors: Jill Winters
For a Thursday afternoon, the customer service desk was pretty deserted. Reese still took her breaks in the cafe, and talked with Tina all the time. Her big, romantic evening with Freddy was only a day away.
Reese hadn't seen the creepy customer or his mother in a while, but she was definitely not complaining.
Just then a woman approached the desk. "Hi," Reese said brightly, actually glad to have a customer to assist. "How can I help you?"
"Yes, hello. I'm looking for a
New York Times
bestseller by either a man or woman. Um, it's about a guy, and something with a war... I think."
"Okay, do you know if it's been on the best-seller list for a long time?" Reese asked, figuring out exactly how she was going to track it down. At Roland & Fisk, the policy was simple: "Put the book in the customer's hand." The days of pointing them in a vague direction and letting them wander off into cluelessness were gone.
Normally Reese didn't mind walking with a customer to get a book. The only thing that boggled her mind was the overwhelming compulsion people had to make small talk with her on the way, desperate to fill the thirty seconds of silence. She'd never understand that.
"I don't know how long it's been on the list," the woman was saying, "and it might have been the
USA Today
list. I can't remember." Shrugging, she threw in a halfhearted "sorry."
Reese attempted to locate the book in the computer database, but after less than ten seconds, the woman grew impatient. "Maybe there's someone else who can help me?"
"Oh..."
"What do you need?" Rhoda asked, suddenly right behind Reese, because for the next four hours they would be sharing this tiny customer service cell, and Reese would be enduring Rhoda's endless condescension about all of the books people wanted to read, as opposed to the obscure ones Rhoda pretended to have read. What
fun.
Then again... Rhoda's arrogance might come in handy. Really, if she wanted to take this woman off Reese's hands, more power to her. Stepping aside, Reese let Rhoda embark on what she knew would be a wild-goose chase.
Just then, she heard the creaks and squeals of a rolling cart. Poor Amy was wheeling an overflowing dolly of books that looked like they were about to cave and topple any second. "Do you need some help?" Reese asked, starting come out from behind the desk.
Sharply, Darcy yelled, "Do it and get docked,
Brock."
"Wha—?"
"She needs to
learn,"
Darcy said, and blew an obscenely huge bubble with her bright blue gum. "Come on, keep moving, Amy; the books won't shelve themselves!"
Of course, Reese felt bad for Amy, who had taken over Reese's place in the Darcy-torture department. Not that Darcy didn't still hound, harass, and haunt Reese all day, every day. She did—but not with nearly the same gusto. It seemed that she saved her zeal up for Amy. Claiming she was "breaking her in."
The poor girl still tried so hard, but what she failed to grasp was the most basic Roland & Fisk principle: There was little point in trying, because you were screwed either way.
Amy looked at Reese with a miserable, beast-of-burden expression of agony, while Darcy trailed behind her snapping her fingers and taunting her with threats.
Then the cart screeched into the distance, and Reese shook her head and let out a laugh. She couldn't help it; sometimes life just seemed so ridiculous.
As she straightened some papers on her side of the desk, she heard Rhoda ask someone if he needed help, and she heard that someone say no, thank you, he was there to speak with Reese. She kept her eyes glued downward as her heart raced and her pulse exploded in her veins. The voice was achingly familiar—low, smooth, and sexy—she'd know it anywhere, and it ripped her heart in two.
* * *
After steeling himself up to talk to Reese, Brian had gone to Roland & Fisk with the rationalization that they needed to clear the air before Ally and Ben's wedding.
Of course, he hadn't realized how much bullshit that was until he saw her. One look from across the store, and his chest had constricted, the breath joltingly knocked out of him. Immediately, he felt that inexorable pull—that helpless attraction. Christ, he was still totally intrigued, infatuated, and charmed. And everything else he had no right to be anymore.
He'd been about to approach when Reese had darted out from behind the desk to help some bedraggled cart girl. That was so Reese—so energetic, so damn sweet—and he'd known that about her, even as he'd picked up the phone to call Veronica two weeks before. He had made his choice to try to move forward with Veronica, and he couldn't very well go back on it now... could he?
Now that they were face-to-face again, he just wanted to reach across the desk, grab Reese, and pull her to him. To feel her softness against him, to hear her whisper his name, to hear her whisper so shyly, "I like being with you."
Every time he remembered the words, they pierced right through him. Reese had been so honest, so trusting, and he had disappeared on her afterward—using all his willpower to avoid the cafe altogether. And she still had no idea why.
She probably hated him. She had to hate him.
Judging by the cold, withering look she was giving him now, and the iciness in her pale green eyes, he'd say his instincts were dead-on.
"Hi, Reese," he said.
"Hello," she said crisply, averting her eyes abruptly to look at her computer screen. Busily, she dragged and clicked her mouse. After a moment she demanded, "Can I help you with something,
sir?"
So they were back to square one. "No," he replied, coming closer and resting a hand on the desk. She eyed it for less than a second, then focused back on her monitor. "I just wanted to stop in and say hi," he supplied lamely.
Who had he been kidding? He thought they could simply go back to being friendly acquaintances now? After the raw passion that had exploded between them?
Psfft.
He could barely even look at her without his gut hollowing out, and his dick throbbing.
"Okay," she said curtly. "Hi." Then she began fooling with the same papers he'd seen her straightening before he approached.
He scrambled to think of something else to say.
She whipped her head around, no longer avoiding his eyes, but burning a hole right through him. Angry and impatient, but so goddamn beautiful. He struggled to slow his heart and get his brain back.
Meanwhile she snapped, "What do you
want?"
"Nothing... I mean—"
"Well, I'm working here, sir, so, if you don't mind—"
"I'm looking for a book," Brian said quickly.
Squinting at him suspiciously, she challenged him with a sassy tilt of her head.
"It's true, I am," he insisted.
Finally she shrugged, and asked coolly, "Fine, what book?" as she poised those soft, kind hands on her keyboard. Time to improvise, and fast.
"Um... it's... a book... about... engineering," he said brilliantly. "Its, uh, one of those idiot's guides, or imbecile's guides, whatever." God, he was becoming a pathetic bastard, doing anything he could to drag out this encounter. And to what purpose? Hell if he knew.
"Okay, I see a listing," she said sharply. "Come on."
With that, she exited the customer service area and started charging down the nearest aisle, not even making a pretense of waiting for him. He followed, jogging behind to keep up.
He was too depressed to even enjoy seeing that curvy butt move. Looking at it only made him ache worse, and feel emptier. He looked anyway, of course.
When they got to the business reference section, Reese hooked a quick right, and Brian almost collided with her because she stopped so abruptly to look at the shelves.
"Oh, sorry," he said, stepping back.
She ignored him, and focused ahead. Then she squinted—which was cuter than anything—and took a pair of glasses out of her front pocket. Setting them on her face, she started scanning the shelves.
"Reese..." he started, inching closer to her because he couldn't help it. Instantly she inched away, still not looking at him, but manically reading the shelves from left to right. "Reese, I know you're mad that I just sort of disappeared after what happened...."
She scoffed, and continued looking on the shelves, muttering something that sounded like, "Right,
that's
why—creep."
He opened his mouth to speak again, but she cut him off before he had the chance. "Fine, here it is," she said, reaching for a fat orange book on the top shelf. But she struggled because she was too short; Brian pulled it down for her, because he knew she wouldn't ask him for help. Haughtily pushing her glasses up on her nose, Reese said, "Well, that's it, then."
"Reese, wait," Brian said softly, and reached out to touch her arm.
She violently jerked it back. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Nothing, I'm sorry—"
"You should be," she said under her breath.
He sighed with frustration. "Well, I am. Reese, I'm trying to explain myself here."
"Well, that's very nice, but I'm on the clock." Great, she sounded like she was possessed by her boss now. "Maybe you'd like me to find you something else, though? Maybe something in the
bridal
section?"
"Huh?" he said, confused.
Reese scoffed and rolled her eyes, which appeared to be almost glowing from the way the light reflected off her glasses. Then, lowering her voice to an angry whisper, she said, "Please, Brian, I'm not a fool. I heard all about your engagement."
"Wha—you mean you know about Veronica?"
"Yes, I know! Did you think I wouldn't find out? How could you do that to me?"
"Wait, I don't get it—"
"What don't you get? The fact that I think you're a complete jerk? Good-bye, Brian," she said, pushing past him. "Have a nice marriage—"
"Whoa," he said, catching her arm. "I think you have your facts wrong. I'm not engaged."
"Stop
lying,"
she hissed, whipping back around. "Just stop lying to me, you prick!" Then she kicked him in the shin—
hard.
"Ow! Wait, Reese..." He brought one hand to his shin, and kept the other on her arm, gently holding her in place. "Veronica and I are
not
engaged. We were once, but we're not now."
"Oh, please, I heard Ben tell Ally you guys are back together, so don't even bother—"
"Wait, just wait, please," he pleaded, letting her go, and holding his hands up Joanna-style. Reese crossed her arms across her breasts and waited. On a heavy sigh, Brian explained. "Look, the truth is, Veronica and I
were
engaged once, but we broke off the engagement a couple of years ago—
before
you and I ever met." She still stood there, which was a good thing, but she had a grimace on her face as though he were a slug that had just had salt poured on it, which meant he'd better keep talking. "Reese, it's the truth. I swear."
"Right, I'm sure," she said dismissively. "That must be why you haven't stepped foot in the cafe for weeks."
"Well..." Christ, how did he explain
that?
Reese must have taken his hesitation for an admission of guilt, because she plowed on. "Now it all makes sense, why you never told Ben about what was going on between us. You probably figured he'd say something to me about Veronica."
"That's not true!"
"Uh-huh."
"Wait a minute, what about you? You never said anything to Ben, either. How come?"
"I... because... wait, don't turn this around on me."
"That's not an answer," he pressed.
She paused and looked over at the shelves. "Maybe I just wanted to figure out what was going on between us before I told anyone." Letting out a humorless laugh, she said, "What an idiot I was."
"No...
you weren't an idiot, or anything else," he said, moving closer. "Look, a few months ago, Veronica and I started talking again. But we haven't gotten back together... not
exactly."
Reese squinted at that, as though mulling it over, then nodded. "Meaning that she wants to, and now you've decided you want to, too. Is that it?" He knew she was a smart little cookie. "Well?" she demanded.
He didn't know what to say, because that was exactly what had happened. At least, he'd thought so until now. Now he had the feeling that what'd really happened was that he'd made the biggest goddamn mistake of his life.
Swallowing, Reese murmured, "I guess you just gave me the answer. Good-bye, Brian." She turned and walked out into the aisle.
"Wait," Brian said, following and nudging her into the finance and fortune section.
"Hey!" she said, pushing at his chest, which reminded him of how she'd pushed at his chest before—rubbed it, stroked it, clawed at it.
"Look, it's hard to explain. Veronica is going through a really tough time lately, and I told her I'd think about everything. I told her we'd decide about getting back together after Ben's wedding."
Reese's jaw dropped. "You're bringing her to the
wedding
?" Then she shook her head and covered her face with her hands. "Of course you are," she mumbled, definitely more to herself, and Brian moved in a little closer.
"Reese, the reason I haven't come into the store lately is because I didn't think it would be right. I promised Veronica that I would give the idea of her and me a real chance, and I knew there was no way in hell I could do that if I were around you."
He set his hands on her upper arms, barely making contact, and finally she lifted her head to meet his gaze. She looked wounded and miserable and tired, and he couldn't believe a selfish asshole like him had done that to her.
"Why?" she asked softly.
"Why, what?" he said huskily, and gently rubbed her arms with his hands.
"Why couldn't you be around me?"
She knew the answer—she
had
to know the answer. To him, it was painfully obvious, and one look at his engorged crotch would show her just how painful it was. Sliding his hands down her arms, he lightly cupped her wrists, and bent to brush her temple with his forehead. He inhaled some of her scent, and spoke raggedly. "Because you drive me crazy. When I see you... when I'm with you... it's so good."