Taking Care of Business (27 page)

'Heather's decided not to come back after maternity leave.

She gave her official notice. I got her job.' He shrugged, standing behind his desk with a folder in his hand.

'Congratulations.' Leah set down her suitcase and reached for the folder. 'This is the paperwork?'

He gestured at the chair in front of his desk. He'd put a cushion on it at least. She sat as an excuse to put her attention on the work, not on him. She opened the folder and scanned the list of items printed there, ticking each one with her pen. Nothing amiss. She signed the last page behind a number fairly staggering in its amount, but, hell, she wasn't paying for it.

Leah stood and put the folder and his pen on his desk. Brandon had stayed standing. He made no move to take the papers or pen, even though it rolled off the folder and threatened to keep going on to the floor.

For a long minute neither of them moved. With only the desk between them, it wouldn't have taken much for him to reach for her or for her to slide across it and into his arms. But there was more than the desk blocking that route, and there didn't seem much of anything else to say.

He reached behind him and settled another paper on the folder in front of her. 'Management requests guests fill out a performance survey about their experience here. You can mail it in later. You don't have to do it now.'

With one fingertip he pushed the paper towards her. She took it without looking at it and folded it in half, then tucked it into her purse. 'I'll do that.'

'Just to let you know,' Brandon continued, 'if you've determined your satisfaction with my performance to be anything less than the highest rating, management considers that failure. So would I.'

She had to look at him then. 'I'll keep that in mind.'

She wanted him to smile, but he didn't. 'Thanks.'

'You're very good at your job.'

'I'm very good at a lot of things,' Brandon replied.

For that, Leah had no answer. She gathered her bags and the sweater she'd slung over one arm. 'Goodbye, Brandon.'

He didn't answer her. Or maybe she didn't hear him through the door she shut behind her when she left. Then she went home. Alone.

'So, Band Boy. Why the long face?'

Brandon had been staring into the bottom of his glass, contemplating the secrets of the universe, but he looked up at the sound of a familiar feminine voice. Leah's friend Kate slid on to the stool beside him and ordered a Scotch with water on the side in the no-nonsense tone of a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn't going to wait around for it.

He waited until she'd been served and had taken her first sip before he swivelled to face her. 'What is up with the Band Boy thing, anyway?'

He wasn't angry about it or anything. Just curious. Kate laughed a bit and took another drink before answering.

'That night we met you, we were noticing you from across the bar -'

'Yeah?' That bit of news should've made him happy, but it didn't quite manage.

'Yeah. And Leah was saying how she wouldn't mind taking a drink from that long tall glass of water, and I . . .' She bit her lower lip briefly before laughing again. 'Well, let's just say I thought you seemed a little more . . . innocent . . . than apparently you are.'

'She told you that?' He finished his pop and Jimmy, good guy that he was, had already slid another into its place. Brandon had been sitting there for a while.

'Not exactly. Don't worry, she didn't spill all your secrets.'

Kate's sly grin didn't exactly reassure him. His dismay must have shown on his face, because she looked instantly contrite and patted his arm. 'Really. She didn't tell me anything embarrassing. I promise.'

He drank deeply before replying. 'But you assume there was something embarrassing.'

Kate shook her head. 'I don't assume that.'

Brandon shrugged and turned back to the bar to settle his glass in the series of wet rings from previous glasses. 'If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not bare my soul to her BFF, OK?'

'Ouch.' Kate set her glass down with a thump. 'Hey. Look at me.'

He did, reluctantly.

'You went after her yesterday, didn't you?'

Her perplexed look told him she really didn't know what had happened after. Knowing this did little to soothe him, but he nodded anyway. Kate smiled.

'Good boy.'

'I'm not,' Brandon said irritably, 'a boy.'

'You're a good man then.' Kate rolled her eyes but reached to pat his arm again. 'Don't be so sensitive.'

He gritted his jaw but relaxed it almost at once. It was too hard to sigh with his teeth clenched. He swirled the liquid in his glass, wishing it were beer. The bar in the hotel where he'd just been named full-time conference-services manager was not the place to get drunk.

Then again it hadn't been the place to have crazy, wild sex with a hotel guest either, and he'd managed to get away with that.

'I went after her,' he said under his breath. 'Stupid.'

'It wasn't stupid.'

He looked at her. She smiled and shrugged, then sipped from her drink. Brandon glared for a moment before sighing again.

'It wasn't stupid,' Kate repeated quietly. 'She's my friend. I know that makes my judgement suspect, but she wasn't just screwing with you. She's not like that. Whatever's going on with her -'

'Yeah. I get it.' He hunched over his glass and refused to look at her. 'I don't need it spelled out for me.'

Kate snorted lightly. 'I know. You're not stupid.'

'Yeah, and I was never in the damned band, OK?' He swirled on his stool, eyes narrowed, and pointed an accusing finger at her. 'I played soccer!'

Kate held up both her hands. 'Whoa, whoa, OK. Hey, there's nothing wrong with playing in the band, by the way. Slow down on the Guinness.'

'I'm not drinking Guinness,' he said.

'Me neither,' Kate replied. 'Should we remedy that?'

He didn't answer for a second. 'Why do you want to get drunk?'

'Do I need a reason?'

'Do you have one?'

'You really aren't stupid,' Kate said begrudgingly. 'But if it's all the same to you, I don't really want to bare my soul either.'

'Would it be one of those "men are pigs" sort of soul-baring conversations?' he asked. Ninety-nine per cent of the people he worked with were women. He knew how it went.

It was her turn to sigh. 'No. Unfortunately, no. But you can buy me another drink.'

He laughed, finally, and gestured at Jimmy. 'Right. How did I know it would lead to something like that?'

She laughed too. 'How did I know you'd offer?'

'Because I'm a good guy.'

'Who doesn't have to finish last.' Kate lifted her fresh glass to him and they tapped their glasses. 'You went after her once, go after her again.'

'Great. You want me to turn into a stalker?' He shook his head. 'No, thank you. Besides, I don't know where to find her.'

'Um, hello. I know where she lives.'

He looked for the secret to life in the bottom of his glass again. 'No thanks.'

Kate's cough sounded suspiciously as though it covered up the word 'pussy'.

'Yeah,' he said, still annoyed. 'Because I'm really going to just show up at her house unannounced. That won't freak her out or anything.'

'You could call her first.'

'Why do you care so much anyway?' He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, wishing for the hundred-thousandth time he understood women's brains.

'She's my friend. I want to see her happy.'

'How do you know I'm not some jerk who will just break her heart?' he challenged, throwing out another line he'd heard so often from the girls at work.

'Because,' Kate said patiently, 'you are a nice guy. And you gave her what she wants. And needs.'

'I thought you said she didn't tell you anything embarrassing.'

'She didn't. But you better believe I'm going to force it out of her, based on the blush on your face,' Kate said, giving him a once-over. 'It has to be pretty damned good.'

'It was pretty damned good,' Brandon said and pushed his half-empty glass away. He'd lost his taste for it.

'If you let her just walk away without even trying to get in touch with her, I will mock you mercilessly.'

He rolled his eyes, copying her earlier look. 'What, that's supposed to scare me?'

'It should.'

'Maybe I don't even want to,' he protested.

'You want to. You want to so bad it's like an army of ants gnawing at your brain -'

'Fine.' He cut her off and frowned when she smiled at him. 'You're right, OK? I'm crazy about her and I don't care that we only knew each other for a few days. Are you satisfied?'

Kate's smile softened. 'She's my friend. I want her to be happy. That's all. I think you could do that.'

'You don't know that for sure.'

'Nobody knows anything for sure!' she snapped and looked into her own drink, which didn't seem any more likely to offer up advice than his had.

'I'm not saying I'm going to go after her,' he said finally. 'But if you told me where she lives, I might think about it.'

'What do you have to lose?' She held up a hand. 'Don't answer that. I can't stand the puppy-dog eyes.'

He had to laugh at that. 'I don't have puppy-dog eyes.'

'Don't you know better than to argue with a woman?'

'Apparently, I don't.'

Kate finished off her drink but didn't ask for another. She sighed, her shoulders hunching just a little.

'Just say it,' Brandon offered.

She looked at him. 'What?'

'Men are pigs. It will make you feel better.'

Her smile took a moment to stretch across her mouth but, when it did, he felt a lot better.

'Not all men are pigs. That's the trouble,' Kate said.

'We're all pigs,' he offered. 'Really.'

Then they were laughing again, and it felt good to laugh even if he knew it was only a temporary respite from feeling like crap. Kate's sigh this time sounded marginally less melancholy and, when she reached to pat his arm, she added a little squeeze.

'It would be easier if that were true.'

'Sorry.' He reached for his wallet and pulled out a few bills, making sure to leave Jimmy a good-sized tip. It wouldn't be cool to stiff the dude just because the drinks here were way overpriced.

'Thanks for the drink, Band Boy. Sorry,' she amended, 'Soccer Dude. Go get her, tiger.'

Brandon groaned and buried his face in his hands, even though he was smiling.

'Fire ants,' Kate added. 'In your brain!'

'You're either a really, really good friend or you secretly hate her,' he said.

'The former.'

He scrubbed his hands through his hair again and stood.

'Sure you don't want to call me a pig?'

'I'm sure,' she said.

He held out his hand and they shook. 'Is there anything else I can do for you before you go?'

'Aren't you off work?' She raised a brow.

'Just asking.'

Kate shook her head as her phone trilled from her bag. 'God. You're perfect for her. No. G'wan ahead. Go bend it like Beckham.'

He didn't know so much about the perfect part, but he couldn't ask her more because she'd flipped open her phone and was listening intently. She hadn't even said hello. She dug in her bag, tore out a piece of paper and scribbled an address, which she handed him before waving him off.

He looked at the crumpled paper in his hand. He knew where Leah lived. It wasn't too far from him either. The problem was, should he really go to her, like her friend had said, or should he leave well enough alone?

They finally came for Kate in the bar some half an hour later to tell her the cab had arrived. About damned time. What was it about the end of conferences and the seemingly endless wait for cabs anyway? She sighed, she'd be cutting it close but she'd make it and it had allowed her to have that convo with Band Boy. Later on when she got home, Kate planned to call Leah up and demand an explanation.

Her phone rang as she'd been digging for her pad to write Leah's info down for Band Boy. Dix, or so the caller ID window said. She flipped it open and listened, absently scribbling the address and handing it to Brandon with a last admonition to get his ass out to find Leah.

'Hang on, I'm getting in a cab,' she said as she loaded in and the cabbie put her luggage in the back. 'OK. How's Kendall?'

'She's OK. Grouchy because they woke her up all night long.' He sounded exhausted and Kate heard feminine voices in the background and wondered.

'You sound tired.' Which was so obvious she knew she sounded ridiculous. But what else was there to say?

'It's been a long day. Everything finish up all right?'

God, small talk? Their easy rapport had wasted into this? Would he ask about the weather next?

'Yes, fine. I'm on my way to the train station now.'

'I have a pen here and some paper. You'll give me your number in Philly and your address?'