“All right,” she agreed, and her mouth curved into a weak smile. Jonas was right. The best thing she could do was to draw his attention away from her lack of culinary skill. If he continued to see her, she’d know for certain that it wasn’t her talent in the kitchen that had attracted him.
It was not until Stephanie had buckled the seat belt in Jonas’s Mercedes that she realized she was still wearing her faded, washed-out jeans and her tennis shoes. “This Chinese restaurant isn’t fancy, is it?” She placed her hand over the knee that showed white through the threadbare blue jeans.
Jonas’s gaze followed hers. “Poor Stephanie.” He chuckled. “You’re having quite a night, aren’t you?”
She folded her hands in her lap and crossed her legs. “It’s an average night.” Better than most. Worse than some. It wasn’t every day that Jonas Lockwood held her in his arms and kissed her until her world spun out of its orbit. Just thinking about the way he’d held her produced a warm glow inside her until she was certain she must radiate with it.
“You do enjoy Chinese food?”
“Oh, yes.”
“By the way, do you often wear purple tennis shoes?”
Startled, Stephanie glanced down at her feet and experienced another minor twinge of regret. “I bought them on sale—they were half-price.”
Jonas chuckled. “I think it was the color.”
“I usually only wear them around the apartment,” she said, only a little offended. “They work fine for
The Twenty-Minute Workout.
”
“The what?”
“The Twenty-Minute Workout?
It’s on every morning at six. Don’t you ever watch it?” She wasn’t sure the neighbor in the apartment below appreciated her jumping around the living room at such an ungodly hour, but Mrs. Humphrey had never complained.
“I take it you’re referring to a televised exercise program.”
“Yes. Have you heard of it?”
“No, I prefer my club.”
“Oh, the joys of being rich.” She said it with a sigh of feigned envy.
“Are you going to complain about your wages?’’
“Would it do any good?”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought.” Her gaze slid to him, and again she marveled at the man at her side. The top buttons of his white business shirt were unfastened, exposing bronze skin and dark curly hair. The long sleeves were rolled up, revealing the eagerness with which he’d helped her with the bookcase. He stopped at a red light, and seemed to feel her eyes on him. His gaze met hers, and Stephanie noted the fine lines that feathered out from the corners of his eyes. The grooves at the side of his mouth, which she had so often thought of as harsh, softened now as he smiled. Jonas, Lockwood was a different man when he grinned. It transformed his entire face.
Stephanie was astonished how much his smile could affect her. Her heart stopped, then started up again, pounding the blood hotly through her veins. If given the least bit of encouragement, Stephanie would have impulsively eliminated the small space that separated them and pressed her mouth to his, revealing with a kiss how much being with him had stirred her heart.
She reluctantly dragged her gaze from his and glanced down at her hands folded neatly in her lap. In that instant, as brief as it was, Stephanie recognized the truth. She was falling in love with Jonas Lockwood, and she was falling hard. Up to this point in their nonrelationship, she had considered him an intriguing challenge. Jan, Maureen and the others had piqued her interest in their domineering, arrogant employer. The trip to Paris, and their time at the fountain in the park had added to her curiosity. She’d glimpsed the man buried deep inside the gruff exterior, and had been enthralled. Now she was caught, hook, line and sinker.
Long after they’d returned from dinner and the finished bookcase stood in the corner of her living room, Stephanie recalled the look they’d exchanged in the car on the way to the restaurant. Briefly she wondered if Jonas had recognized it for what it was. Certainly the evening had been altered because of that glance. Before that instant in the car they had been teasing each other and joking, but from the moment they entered the restaurant, they had immersed themselves in serious conversation. Jonas wanted to know everything about her. And Stephanie talked for hours. She told him about growing up in Colville, and what living in the country had meant to a gawky, young girl. When he asked how she happened to move to Minneapolis, Stephanie explained that her godparents lived nearby, and had encouraged her to move into the area. There were other relatives close by as well, and there were precious few secretarial positions in the eastern part of Washington State.
It wasn’t until their plates were cleared away and the waiter delivered two fortune cookies that Stephanie realized that while she’d been telling him her life story, Jonas had revealed little about himself. She felt guilty about dominating the conversation, but when she mentioned it, Jonas brushed her concern aside, telling her there was plenty of time for her to get to know him better. For hours afterward, Stephanie was on a natural high, exhilarated and happy. She enjoyed talking to Jonas, and for the first time since Paris, they were at ease with each other.
When Stephanie arrived at work the following morning, there was a message on her desk from Jan. The note asked Stephanie to join her and the others in the cafeteria on their coffee break. All morning, Stephanie toyed with the idea of telling her friends about the evening she’d spent with Jonas, but finally decided against it. The night had been so special that she wanted to wrap the feelings she’d experienced with Jonas around herself and keep them private.
At midmorning, she found the four gathered around the same table by the window that they’d occupied earlier in the week. Again, her coffee was waiting for her.
“Morning.”
“You’re late,” Jan scolded, glancing at her watch. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”
“We do?” Stephanie glanced around the table at her friends and wondered if the Geneva peace talks held more somber, serious faces.
“It’s your move with Mr. Lockwood,” Maureen explained. “And we’ve been up half the night discussing the best way for you to approach him.”
“I see.” Stephanie took a sip of her coffee to hide an amused grin.
“Subtlety is the key,” Barbara inserted. “It’s imperative that he doesn’t know that you’ve planned this next
chance
meeting.”
“Would it be so wrong to let him know I’m interested?” Stephanie let her gaze fall to the table so that her friends couldn’t read her expression.
“That comes later,” Toni told her. “This next step is the all-important one.”
“I see.” Stephanie didn’t, but she doubted that her lack of understanding concerned her friends. “So what’s the next move?”
“That’s the problem—we can’t decide,” Jan explained. “We seem to be at a standstill.”
“It’s a toss-up between four different ideas.”
One from each romantic, Stephanie reasoned.
“I thought you could wait until Old Stone Face has left her guard post for the day, and then make up an excuse to go to his office—any excuse would do—for that matter, I could give you one,” Jan said eagerly. “You’re on his turf, where he’s most comfortable. Of course, you’ll need to find a way to get close to him. You know, bend over the desk so your heads meet and your fingers accidentally brush against his. From there, everything will work out great.”
“But I don’t like that idea,” Maureen muttered, slowly shaking her head. “Besides, Mr. Lockwood’s too intelligent not to see through that ploy.’’
“George Potter is always taking one thing or another up to Jonas’s office. I could volunteer to do it for him; I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” Stephanie said, defending Jan’s idea.
“Yes, but from everything I’ve read, it’d be better if we forced his hand.”
“Force his hand? What do you mean?” Stephanie glanced at Maureen.
“Let him see you with another man.”
“But that’s already happened, with disastrous results,” Jan argued. “Besides, where are we going to come up with another man?”
“My husband’s brother is available.”
“Ladies, please,” Stephanie cried, raising both hands to squelch that plan. “I’ve got to agree with any scheme you come up with, and that one is most definitely a no.”
“Sympathy always works,” Barbara said thoughtfully. “I’ve read lots of romances where the turning point in the relationship comes when either the hero or the heroine becomes ill or is seriously hurt.”
For a moment, Stephanie actually believed her friends were about to suggest she came down with the mumps or chicken pox just so she could garner Jonas’s sympathy.
“I’ve got a cousin who works for an orthopedic surgeon. He could put a cast on Stephanie so Mr. Lockwood would think she had a broken leg.” Again Barbara glanced around the table, wanting the others’ reactions.
In her mind, Stephanie could see herself hobbling to and from work for weeks in a plaster cast up to her hip while she carried out this ridiculous charade. She couldn’t very well arrive the next day without the cast and announce to everyone that a miracle had occurred.
“No go.” She nixed that plan before the four could endorse it and she ended up in a body cast without ever knowing how it happened. “What’s wrong with me inviting him over to my apartment for dinner?”
“It’s so obvious,” Barbara groaned.
“And the rest of your ideas aren’t?”
“Now something like that just might work,” Jan said thoughtfully, chewing on the end of her index finger. “It’s not brilliant, but it has possibilities.”
“There’s only one problem,” Stephanie informed her friends, remembering the charred pot roast from the night before. “I’m not much of a cook.”
“That’s not a problem. You could hire a chef to come in, and Mr. Lockwood need never know.”
“Isn’t that a bit expensive?” Stephanie could visualize the balance in her checkbook rapidly reaching the point of no return.
“It’s worth a try.” Barbara rapidly discounted Stephanie’s concern.
“What was your idea, Toni?” Everyone had revealed their schemes except the small brunette.
She shrugged. “Nothing great—I thought you might ‘accidentally on purpose’ meet Mr. Lockwood by the elevator sometime. You could strike up a casual conversation and let matters follow their natural course.”
“But Steph could end up spending the entire workday hanging around the elevator,” Barbara said, her voice raised at what she considered an unreasonable plan.
“Not only that,” Jan added, “but who’s to say that the elevator will be empty? She’d look too obvious if there were other people aboard.”
Stephanie’s gaze flew from one intent face to the other. “I like that scheme best.”
“What?” Three pairs of shocked eyes shot to Stephanie.
“Well, for heaven’s sake! With the rest of your ideas, I’m either going to have to subject myself to Bertha Westheimer’s scrutiny, date Barbara’s brother-in-law, sheath my body in plaster or deplete my checking account to hire a chef to cook for me. Toni’s idea is the only one that makes any sense.”
“But you suggested inviting him to dinner,” Jan informed her.
Maureen folded her hands on the table top and studied Stephanie through narrowed eyes. “You know, it suddenly dawned on me that you’re not fighting us anymore, Steph.”
“No,” she said and reached for her coffee, curving her fingers around the cup. She took a drink and when she set it back down, she noted that the four had become silent.
“In fact, if you’ve noticed, she’s even adding her own ideas.” Jan’s look was approving.
“Could it be that you’ve come to have some feelings for Mr. Lockwood?” Barbara asked.
“It could be that I find the man a challenge.”
“It’s more than that,” Toni said quietly. “I noticed when you first joined us this morning that there was something different about you.”
It shows, Stephanie mused, a bit irritated.
“What do you feel for Mr. Lockwood?”
“I’m not completely sure yet,” Stephanie admitted honestly. “He makes me so angry I could shake him.”
“But...”
“But then, at other times, he looks at me and we share a smile and I want to melt on the inside.” She knew her eyes must have revealed her feelings, because the others grew even quieter.
“Could you see yourself married to him?”
Stephanie didn’t need to think twice about that. “Yes.” They’d argue, and disagree, and challenge each other—that was a given—but the loving between them would be exquisite.
The unexpected shout of joy that followed her announcement nearly knocked Stephanie out of her chair. “Good grief, be quiet,” she cried, her hand over her heart. “We’re a long way from the altar.”
“Not nearly as far as you think, honey,” Barbara said with a wide, knowing grin. “Not nearly as far as you think.”
Stephanie left the cafeteria a couple of minutes later. In spite of everything, she had to struggle not to laugh. Her four self-proclaimed romantic friends seemed to believe that a couple of dinners—one of which they knew nothing about—and a few stolen kisses in the moonlight constituted marriage.
When she arrived at her desk, Stephanie placed her purse in the bottom drawer, sat down and pulled out some paper, preparing to type a letter. She paused, her hands poised over the keyboard, trying to analyze her feelings for Jonas. The page in front of her blurred as she remembered his kisses. From the look about him, he was as surprised as she was. The minute they’d met, Stephanie had disliked the man. He was so dictatorial and high-handed that he infuriated her. He enjoyed baiting her and challenging her. In some ways, Jonas Lockwood was the most difficult man she’d ever known. But at the same time, Stephanie suspected that the rewards of his love would be beyond any worldly treasure she hoped to accumulate.
At five that evening, Stephanie cleared off the top of her desk, preparing to head home to her apartment. It was so late by the time Jonas finished assembling the bookcase that she hadn’t had the energy to fill it with the books that were propped against her bedroom wall. She’d learned as the evening progressed that Jonas was an avid reader, and they’d had a lively discussion on their favorite authors. When he’d left her apartment, it had been close to midnight. She’d thanked him for dinner and his help with the bookcase, and had been mildly disappointed that he hadn’t kissed her good night. Nor did he arrange for another meeting. At the time, Stephanie hadn’t given the matter a second thought. Now she wondered how long it would be before she saw Jonas again. She was a bit discouraged not to have heard from him before now. All day, she’d been half expecting him to pop in unannounced and dictate another letter to her. The entire afternoon felt strangely incomplete, and she realized that she’d been wanting to hear from him since the minute she arrived that morning.