Sondra Fawkes. Summer’s mother had been a mistress, and that was one path Summer knew better than to follow down. So she took a step back, trying to breathe. “Not like that.” Yet.
A spark of humor lit his eyes. “Like what, princess?”
“I could see where your mind went.” Her mind had gone right along.
He nodded. “Maybe I should get us some champagne then, to cool down.”
“Yes, please.”
She watched him walk away, resisting the urge to take out her mobile and text her sisters that she’d gotten him. She waited on the sidelines, impatient, wanting another kiss more than bubbles. Turning around, she blinked as a couple caught her attention. There was Ryan, his mask in his hand, holding Sondra Fawkes’s hand.
Turning, she looked in the other direction. How had he come back without her noticing? Had he snuck around?
Her heart sank. She hated that he’d gone directly to his girlfriend. She tried to convince herself that he had to—Sondra Fawkes was probably waiting for him. And he’d only just met Summer, so he had no attachment to her.
Except those kisses .
She watched them holding hands, feeling as green as her dress. She wished he’d leave Sondra and come claim her now.
It was better this way, she told herself. She didn’t want a man who’d insensitively abandon his girlfriend at a party.
Her heart was still sad though. Disappointed, she turned and pushed her way through the crowd to Bea’s waiting limo.
Chapter Eight
There was a wrapped package on his desk. With a floppy pink bow.
Jon studied it from all angles. Leaning down, he listened to it. No ticking. Using a pen, he moved it and then stepped back.
No detonation.
He went to the doorway of his office and poked his head into the reception. Trudy was standing on a ladder, installing shelves, a determined smile on her face.
That smile terrified him in a way that not even a guerilla chasing him with a machine gun could.
“What are you doing?” he asked, not certain she was talking to him yet.
She looked over her shoulder. “Putting up shelves.”
“Yes, but why?”
“Because we need them and they look nice,” she said as though she were explaining it to a child.
“We’re closing the office in a month,” he pointed out. “We have no need for new shelves.”
She shook her head, her smile sharpening. “You’re going to change your mind.”
He frowned. “I’m not, Trudy.”
“Did you get my present?”
He glanced back at the gift on his desk. “Should I be worried about it exploding and nailing me with shrapnel?”
“You’re so suspicious.”
His frown deepened. Now he was really concerned. “What is it?”
“A gift. From me to you, to show you how much I appreciate you as a boss and that the next year is going to be great.” She arched her brow, as though daring him to contradict her with talk of retirement. “Aren’t you going to open it?”
“I don’t know.”
She rolled her eyes. “What happened last night? The masquerade wasn’t all you wanted it to be? You weren’t the belle of the ball?”
Glaring at her, he went back into his office and slammed the door shut. He strode to his desk, sat down, and fixed his glare on the package. The pink bow mocked him.
Belle of the ball, indeed. He grunted. He still couldn’t figure out what had happened last night. He went to get champagne, and when he came back Summer wasn’t there any longer.
Ryan Huber was though, and he was holding hands with a different woman.
Jon suspected that Summer had seen Ryan, become upset with the man, and had gone off to lick her wounds. He’d decided to go up to Huber and face the man, to see what his story would be. Jon couldn’t have been more surprised to find out that the cow-faced woman on Huber’s arm was his girlfriend.
Evidently Summer wasn’t his fiancée.
Then who was she? And why had she claimed she was going to marry Huber?
Pondering the questions, Jon picked up the package and shook it. It rattled, a
A spark of humor lit his eyes. “Like what, princess?”
“I could see where your mind went.” Her mind had gone right along.
He nodded. “Maybe I should get us some champagne then, to cool down.”
“Yes, please.”
She watched him walk away, resisting the urge to take out her mobile and text her sisters that she’d gotten him. She waited on the sidelines, impatient, wanting another kiss more than bubbles. Turning around, she blinked as a couple caught her attention. There was Ryan, his mask in his hand, holding Sondra Fawkes’s hand.
Turning, she looked in the other direction. How had he come back without her noticing? Had he snuck around?
Her heart sank. She hated that he’d gone directly to his girlfriend. She tried to convince herself that he had to—Sondra Fawkes was probably waiting for him. And he’d only just met Summer, so he had no attachment to her.
Except those kisses .
She watched them holding hands, feeling as green as her dress. She wished he’d leave Sondra and come claim her now.
It was better this way, she told herself. She didn’t want a man who’d insensitively abandon his girlfriend at a party.
Her heart was still sad though. Disappointed, she turned and pushed her way through the crowd to Bea’s waiting limo.
Chapter Eight
There was a wrapped package on his desk. With a floppy pink bow.
Jon studied it from all angles. Leaning down, he listened to it. No ticking. Using a pen, he moved it and then stepped back.
No detonation.
He went to the doorway of his office and poked his head into the reception. Trudy was standing on a ladder, installing shelves, a determined smile on her face.
That smile terrified him in a way that not even a guerilla chasing him with a machine gun could.
“What are you doing?” he asked, not certain she was talking to him yet.
She looked over her shoulder. “Putting up shelves.”
“Yes, but why?”
“Because we need them and they look nice,” she said as though she were explaining it to a child.
“We’re closing the office in a month,” he pointed out. “We have no need for new shelves.”
She shook her head, her smile sharpening. “You’re going to change your mind.”
He frowned. “I’m not, Trudy.”
“Did you get my present?”
He glanced back at the gift on his desk. “Should I be worried about it exploding and nailing me with shrapnel?”
“You’re so suspicious.”
His frown deepened. Now he was really concerned. “What is it?”
“A gift. From me to you, to show you how much I appreciate you as a boss and that the next year is going to be great.” She arched her brow, as though daring him to contradict her with talk of retirement. “Aren’t you going to open it?”
“I don’t know.”
She rolled her eyes. “What happened last night? The masquerade wasn’t all you wanted it to be? You weren’t the belle of the ball?”
Glaring at her, he went back into his office and slammed the door shut. He strode to his desk, sat down, and fixed his glare on the package. The pink bow mocked him.
Belle of the ball, indeed. He grunted. He still couldn’t figure out what had happened last night. He went to get champagne, and when he came back Summer wasn’t there any longer.
Ryan Huber was though, and he was holding hands with a different woman.
Jon suspected that Summer had seen Ryan, become upset with the man, and had gone off to lick her wounds. He’d decided to go up to Huber and face the man, to see what his story would be. Jon couldn’t have been more surprised to find out that the cow-faced woman on Huber’s arm was his girlfriend.
Evidently Summer wasn’t his fiancée.
Then who was she? And why had she claimed she was going to marry Huber?
Pondering the questions, Jon picked up the package and shook it. It rattled, a
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