One Week (HaleStorm) by Elisabeth Staab Page B

underhanded motives?
    Either way, guilt gnawed at Elise’s brain, biting a trail down into her churning stomach. Without question, Michael’s problems with his marriage would exist whether or not Elise had let him into her bed the night before. He’d been clear that they were separated, that divorce proceedings were already well under way, or she never would have. Never .
    Still, the encounter in the bathroom left doubt, and questions she didn’t know how to answer.

Chapter 11
    F inally finished making calls, Michael found Elise manning her usual place in the small conference room on the developers’ level. An edge of nerves had crept into her work: her short fingernails clicked on the table and her other hand bounced a pencil eraser on top of a stack of papers. Under her chair, one pointy-heeled shoe slipped on and off her foot.
    On and off. Over and over.
    Both Michael and his breath stopped to admire the arch of that bare foot. It was for the best if they kept things professional. 
    Was she ignoring him or had she simply not noticed him yet? Their looming deadline butted heads with a niggling concern that perhaps he should give her some space.
    Dammit, they had a scant few business days to save a six-figure project. Not to mention, seeing her now made his blood run faster and hotter. Fuck space. “Everything okay?”
    She nodded. “Sure.” She shifted in her chair, finally pushing her shoe all the way onto her foot. She pointed to her laptop screen. “Do you have time to answer some policy questions?”
    He went to read over her shoulder, and then frowned. “I thought we had manuals for that stuff.”
    “Out of date. That’s why I’m here, remember?”
    “Shit.” He straightened. “How did my father keep this place in business?”
    She looked up at him, appearing sympathetic. “If you aren’t careful, your clients are going to start asking the same thing.”
    “They already have. That’s my problem.”
    Her eyes widened. “What?”
    He checked the time on his phone and then pointed to the work in front of her. “As of a short while ago this isn’t our only fire. I’m sorry, I’m afraid I actually have to go.” Three-thirty. If he hurried, he could beat the worst parts of rush hour. “I can help as soon as I get back from this meeting.”
    Elise reached up to put her hand on his, and his gut tightened. He wanted her to touch him more. How could he promise to stay professional when he knew what those smooth hands felt like on his skin? “Is Tom available?” She frowned at him like she knew his thoughts and wanted to punish him for them.
    He could only hope.
    “He’s handling a contract thing for me.” Michael headed for the door. He shook off the sudden urge turn around, grab Elise, and bend her backwards while he kissed the shit out of her. Beg her to stay and talk things out with him once this project ended. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
    “Right.” She nodded slowly, then smiled and snapped her fingers. “Okay. I will institute Plan C. No worries, I have it covered. God luck with... whatever.”
    He nodded and left, a vague sense of discomfort poking around his insides at Elise’s mention of “Plan C.” God only knew what she meant, and he didn’t have time to ask. He’d cross his fingers and find out when he returned.
    He hoped.
    He’d learned enough thus far to know that Elise was not, in fact, the green college intern he’d known all those years ago. She’d grown and changed. These past few days and nights of working together Elise had shown that she could hold her own in every way that mattered. Goddamn, could she ever.
    Why did it seem so unbelievable that she’d turned into someone he could lean on? Because maybe if you acknowledged it, then you’d allow yourself to be happy.
    A taller, paler version of himself waited by the ornamental bushes as he exited the building.
    “What are you doing here? I thought we said everything we needed to say to each other after