Can you deny that?”
She squirmed. There was a seed of truth in his words, but all twisted around. Like a warped mirror, distorting who she was. Was that really how he saw her? “What’s wrong with being driven? You make it sound like a curse word, but it’s what gets things done. I’m good at my job, and I’m proud of that. Besides, you’re one to talk. You stole from the company.”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“That account was dry after you left.”
He shrugged. “I had my reasons.”
“So you don’t deny it?”
He stood up, sliding his papers back into a big portfolio. “Is that what you came in to talk about? It’s ancient history. I left the company. You didn’t. End of story. Leave the condo, and we’ll be even.”
Ugh. It was like talking to a stone-cold statue, immoveable and unyielding. Fine. She’d take a different approach. “If we’ll be living togeth— I mean, coexisting, we need some ground rules. For example, what happened earlier? When I was in that conference? Never again. Knock on the door. Wait until I say okay to enter. Never talk to me while I’m on a business call. I’ll abide by the same rules. If you need privacy, put a sign up on the door, and I’ll respect it. Furthermore—”
He smiled, but it was all teeth and no humor. “You want rules? Here are some rules. Clean up your messes, leave your shoes by the door, and don’t try to lock me out if I want to sit on the patio or even go down to the water.”
“I— That last one—”
He looked at her.
She had to bend somewhere, right? “All right, fine. Agreed.”
Chapter Six
Will thought of himself as a patient man. He had to be in his line of work. Permits meant red tape and bureaucracy, vendors were often back-ordered, clients changed their minds on an almost hourly basis. He could wait out one Darcy Jennings, no matter how infuriating—
Scratch that, he wasn’t infuriated. Will didn’t get infuriated, or if he did, he quickly got it under control.
No, he was merely concerned. After all, no matter how much she invaded his home, his life, even his brain, he could wait her out. She’d get bored eventually.
Will was a nonviolent man. He made a point of remaining calm, unstressed. No point in yelling, no point in stomping around like a bear. He and his sister had been forced to grow up fast. There was no point in being angry about it; it was just life. To survive, you had to keep a level head. Be in peak condition. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. You had to let events spin themselves out, watch for opportunity, be flexible. You had to let go of emotion; it only led you astray.
Will wasn’t very good at letting go, so he usually didn’t grab on too hard in the first place. He dropped clients if they were too needy. Every time a woman wanted more from him—more intimacy, more passion—he gently disengaged. And until now, he’d never owned his own place. He’d preferred to pick up and move on if things didn’t work out, not have his heart broken and stomped all over because he was the fool who stayed.
No, he wasn’t much on attachment, and that was the smart way to be.
This too would pass. Darcy would leave.
He picked up his dinner dishes from the dining table and headed to the kitchen. Darcy was still sitting on the patio, arms around her knees, her mystery meat a cold lump on her plate. The sliding glass door was closed. She looked in at him for a moment. A strand of hair fell forward onto her cheek. He turned his back and started scrubbing the skillet.
No emotion. No reaction. No response. Not anger, not lust. Nothing. That was his way. That was what worked.
~*~
Will hadn’t said a single word to Darcy after their talk in the bedroom. They’d eaten their separate meals—she had to admit, his salmon and braised greens looked far more appetizing than her warmed-up hamburger on a soggy bun—and then he worked on his computer at the glass dining table until he
She squirmed. There was a seed of truth in his words, but all twisted around. Like a warped mirror, distorting who she was. Was that really how he saw her? “What’s wrong with being driven? You make it sound like a curse word, but it’s what gets things done. I’m good at my job, and I’m proud of that. Besides, you’re one to talk. You stole from the company.”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“That account was dry after you left.”
He shrugged. “I had my reasons.”
“So you don’t deny it?”
He stood up, sliding his papers back into a big portfolio. “Is that what you came in to talk about? It’s ancient history. I left the company. You didn’t. End of story. Leave the condo, and we’ll be even.”
Ugh. It was like talking to a stone-cold statue, immoveable and unyielding. Fine. She’d take a different approach. “If we’ll be living togeth— I mean, coexisting, we need some ground rules. For example, what happened earlier? When I was in that conference? Never again. Knock on the door. Wait until I say okay to enter. Never talk to me while I’m on a business call. I’ll abide by the same rules. If you need privacy, put a sign up on the door, and I’ll respect it. Furthermore—”
He smiled, but it was all teeth and no humor. “You want rules? Here are some rules. Clean up your messes, leave your shoes by the door, and don’t try to lock me out if I want to sit on the patio or even go down to the water.”
“I— That last one—”
He looked at her.
She had to bend somewhere, right? “All right, fine. Agreed.”
Chapter Six
Will thought of himself as a patient man. He had to be in his line of work. Permits meant red tape and bureaucracy, vendors were often back-ordered, clients changed their minds on an almost hourly basis. He could wait out one Darcy Jennings, no matter how infuriating—
Scratch that, he wasn’t infuriated. Will didn’t get infuriated, or if he did, he quickly got it under control.
No, he was merely concerned. After all, no matter how much she invaded his home, his life, even his brain, he could wait her out. She’d get bored eventually.
Will was a nonviolent man. He made a point of remaining calm, unstressed. No point in yelling, no point in stomping around like a bear. He and his sister had been forced to grow up fast. There was no point in being angry about it; it was just life. To survive, you had to keep a level head. Be in peak condition. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. You had to let events spin themselves out, watch for opportunity, be flexible. You had to let go of emotion; it only led you astray.
Will wasn’t very good at letting go, so he usually didn’t grab on too hard in the first place. He dropped clients if they were too needy. Every time a woman wanted more from him—more intimacy, more passion—he gently disengaged. And until now, he’d never owned his own place. He’d preferred to pick up and move on if things didn’t work out, not have his heart broken and stomped all over because he was the fool who stayed.
No, he wasn’t much on attachment, and that was the smart way to be.
This too would pass. Darcy would leave.
He picked up his dinner dishes from the dining table and headed to the kitchen. Darcy was still sitting on the patio, arms around her knees, her mystery meat a cold lump on her plate. The sliding glass door was closed. She looked in at him for a moment. A strand of hair fell forward onto her cheek. He turned his back and started scrubbing the skillet.
No emotion. No reaction. No response. Not anger, not lust. Nothing. That was his way. That was what worked.
~*~
Will hadn’t said a single word to Darcy after their talk in the bedroom. They’d eaten their separate meals—she had to admit, his salmon and braised greens looked far more appetizing than her warmed-up hamburger on a soggy bun—and then he worked on his computer at the glass dining table until he
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