down. Derek swiped the back of his hand under his eyes, blotting tears. “Oh, man! That’s the funniest thing I’ve seen all year.”
Alex flipped open a file on his desk and rattled papers, pretending he had something urgent to do. “If you’ve had enough fun for now, you can get out and go work on some new material. That’s about played out, don’t you think?”
“Not quite yet,” Derek said, still chuckling.
“What about a drink after work?” Mitch asked Alex.
Alex kept his head bent low. “Sorry. Can’t.”
“Come on, man, don’t be a poor sport. You didn’t go last week, either. What’s wrong with you?”
I’ve got a jones for a woman who barely knows I’m alive. “Nothing.”
A long silence followed, during which Alex felt them staring daggers at the top of his head. Finally they gave up. Grumbling, they got to their feet and shuffled to the door.
Derek looked back over his shoulder at Alex. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you lately, man,” he said, “but you need to get it worked out.”
Alex shot him a quick glance and a brittle smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
A flutter of activity in the hallway caught their attention and they turned. “Hey, guys!” Laurel, smiling and wearing some blue flowered muumuu today, appeared. “I’ve been wondering what’s wrong with Alex myself.”
Alex groaned aloud but no one seemed to notice. Could this day get any worse? Now Laurel would subject him to the third degree, vetting him as if he’d been tapped for the Supreme Court. At this rate he should brace himself for an IRS audit.
“Hey, Laurel.” Derek pecked her on the cheek. “Talk to him.”
Mitch kissed and hugged her. “Yeah. We’re about ready to kick his butt outta here.”
They sauntered off down the hall, leaving Alex to face his sharp-eyed sister alone. Alex tossed his pen on the desk and scowled. “Don’t start, okay?”
Laurel ignored him. She shut the door, took the chair Mitch had just vacated and flattened him with a look. Alex always said as little as possible when she got like this.
“Turns out I’ve got a fairy godmother,” she said through pursed lips. “Paid my rent for the next three months.”
“Congratulations.” Knowing it was best never to look a snarling dog in the eye, Alex swiveled his chair to face the computer screen and clicked his e-mail icon.
As it turned out, this was a bad strategy. Laurel jumped to her feet and slammed her palms on the desk with a loud smack. “What on God’s green earth are you trying to do here, Alex? I told you I don’t need your help! I can manage on my own!”
Man, she pissed him off—almost as much as Simone did. He’d never understand anyone with two X chromosomes, so he should just do himself a favor and stop trying.
“Heaven save me from independent women today,” he muttered.
Arrested mid-rant, Laurel scooted to the edge of her seat and raised her brows. “Who are you talking about?”
“No one,” he said, already regretting his foolish words.
“Simone?”
“No.”
Jittery now, Alex jumped up and stood in front of the windows. Simone. Punk that he was, the mere mention of her name kicked his pulse rate up an extra twenty beats per minute.
It was time to face facts: he burned for that woman, and it wasn’t a little flickering candle flame, either. Uh-uh. Seeing her for the first time had lit an inferno inside him, and it burned brighter every time he saw her. He couldn’t control the fire, and didn’t particularly want to. Getting incinerated seemed like a perfectly reasonable price to pay for the pleasure of being with her.
Every second he’d spent with Simone today played in an endless loop in his mind: her fury when he’d wondered why she didn’t let Romero take care of her, the unexpected softness on her face when he’d told her how beautiful her eyes were, and again when she’d said she wouldn’t have dinner with him.
Simone was a puzzle. As with all puzzles he came
Alex flipped open a file on his desk and rattled papers, pretending he had something urgent to do. “If you’ve had enough fun for now, you can get out and go work on some new material. That’s about played out, don’t you think?”
“Not quite yet,” Derek said, still chuckling.
“What about a drink after work?” Mitch asked Alex.
Alex kept his head bent low. “Sorry. Can’t.”
“Come on, man, don’t be a poor sport. You didn’t go last week, either. What’s wrong with you?”
I’ve got a jones for a woman who barely knows I’m alive. “Nothing.”
A long silence followed, during which Alex felt them staring daggers at the top of his head. Finally they gave up. Grumbling, they got to their feet and shuffled to the door.
Derek looked back over his shoulder at Alex. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you lately, man,” he said, “but you need to get it worked out.”
Alex shot him a quick glance and a brittle smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
A flutter of activity in the hallway caught their attention and they turned. “Hey, guys!” Laurel, smiling and wearing some blue flowered muumuu today, appeared. “I’ve been wondering what’s wrong with Alex myself.”
Alex groaned aloud but no one seemed to notice. Could this day get any worse? Now Laurel would subject him to the third degree, vetting him as if he’d been tapped for the Supreme Court. At this rate he should brace himself for an IRS audit.
“Hey, Laurel.” Derek pecked her on the cheek. “Talk to him.”
Mitch kissed and hugged her. “Yeah. We’re about ready to kick his butt outta here.”
They sauntered off down the hall, leaving Alex to face his sharp-eyed sister alone. Alex tossed his pen on the desk and scowled. “Don’t start, okay?”
Laurel ignored him. She shut the door, took the chair Mitch had just vacated and flattened him with a look. Alex always said as little as possible when she got like this.
“Turns out I’ve got a fairy godmother,” she said through pursed lips. “Paid my rent for the next three months.”
“Congratulations.” Knowing it was best never to look a snarling dog in the eye, Alex swiveled his chair to face the computer screen and clicked his e-mail icon.
As it turned out, this was a bad strategy. Laurel jumped to her feet and slammed her palms on the desk with a loud smack. “What on God’s green earth are you trying to do here, Alex? I told you I don’t need your help! I can manage on my own!”
Man, she pissed him off—almost as much as Simone did. He’d never understand anyone with two X chromosomes, so he should just do himself a favor and stop trying.
“Heaven save me from independent women today,” he muttered.
Arrested mid-rant, Laurel scooted to the edge of her seat and raised her brows. “Who are you talking about?”
“No one,” he said, already regretting his foolish words.
“Simone?”
“No.”
Jittery now, Alex jumped up and stood in front of the windows. Simone. Punk that he was, the mere mention of her name kicked his pulse rate up an extra twenty beats per minute.
It was time to face facts: he burned for that woman, and it wasn’t a little flickering candle flame, either. Uh-uh. Seeing her for the first time had lit an inferno inside him, and it burned brighter every time he saw her. He couldn’t control the fire, and didn’t particularly want to. Getting incinerated seemed like a perfectly reasonable price to pay for the pleasure of being with her.
Every second he’d spent with Simone today played in an endless loop in his mind: her fury when he’d wondered why she didn’t let Romero take care of her, the unexpected softness on her face when he’d told her how beautiful her eyes were, and again when she’d said she wouldn’t have dinner with him.
Simone was a puzzle. As with all puzzles he came
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