“It’s not my fault. The towels are skimpy.”
He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. So sweet. So very sweet. “I bribed the front desk to make sure they stocked the tiny ones in this room.”
“You keep talking like that and I’ll think you arranged to have me kicked out of the suite, just so we could end up here.”
“I can’t take credit.” One more little taste of her mouth. Just one. “But it turned out to be a most excellent place to spend the night.”
“Uh-huh.” She nibbled on his lower lip.
“I have to go.” That sounded very unconvincing.
“I know.” She kissed his chin. “Mmm. My razor did a pretty decent job.”
He forced himself to think about the conversation with Ed, the one that could mean all the difference to her. A night of wild sex was all well and good, but an intro to the right people in the publishing business was what she really needed.
“I really am leaving.” He cupped her face in both hands. “But before I go, I want you to know…last night was…” He couldn’t find the words.
“For me, too.” She reached up and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. “Maybe we can do it again sometime.” She grinned. “Like tonight.”
“That would be great.” He wasn’t about to tell her how different his life could be by tonight.
She frowned. “You look uneasy, Zach. Don’t worry. I’m not trying to tie you down. I don’t picture us on the dash of Mario’s cab, or anything like that.”
And he did, he realized with a jolt. It wasn’t fair to her, considering that she’d only just arrived, and he might not be a good candidate. But the idea of being added to Mario’s rogue’s gallery had become very appealing in the past twelve hours.
He couldn’t say that. “I know you don’t. I was thinking about the time. It’s late, and I really have to leave.” He kissed her hard and backed away.
Her towel fell, and she made no move to retrieve it. “See you in a couple of hours.”
“Right.” Swallowing, he managed to get out the door, but the image of her standing there, her face filled with something that looked suspiciously like love, was etched forever in his mind.
An hour later, after he’d changed into clean clothes at his apartment and downed another cup of coffee to compensate for his lack of sleep, he was still thinking about all that he’d shared with Hannah. But he had to put a lock on those thoughts. He didn’t want to act like some lovesick fool when he went to Ed with his request. This needed to be a friendly and straightforward matter.
During the bus ride to the office, he rehearsed what he wanted to say. Talking to Ed had never been difficult, but that was before Zach had taken over Ed’s corner office. He’d avoided Ed yesterday, and so he had no idea whether they were still on friendly terms or not. God, he hoped so.
When he walked through the door, Ed, coffee mug in hand, was over by the receptionist’s desk kidding with her. He was a burly guy with a round, friendly face, the kind of guy you’d expect to find tending the barbecue grill in the backyard on a Saturday afternoon.
Ed and Shirley, the blond receptionist, were both laughing about something. Trust Ed to keep his sense of humor after being relegated to a little cubby in the outer office.
Ed turned when Zach appeared. “Hey, Zach.” His tone was casual, but he wasn’t smiling.
Zach didn’t blame him. In Ed’s place, he wouldn’t smile at the guy who’d replaced him. “Could I talk to you for a minute?” he asked.
“Sure.” Ed gestured toward the cubby with his coffee mug. “Step into my office.”
“Thanks.” Zach felt Shirley’s gaze on him. Shirley had always liked Ed, which might mean that she wasn’t too fond of Zach right now.
Ed’s partitioned area was claustrophobic, barely enough room for the desk, Ed’s chair and a chair in front of the desk for a visitor. Zach would be embarrassed to ask clients to meet him at a place like this. He noticed that Ed had mounted his framed industry awards on the temporary partitions, as though he was prepared to settle in.
They were impressive, although the most recent was ten years old. Other stuff was on the wall, too, including pictures of Ed with several Little League teams. One had been taken last year, with the team posed in front of a championship banner.
“We damned near went to nationals last year.” Ed gazed at the picture. “Some of those kids are back again, and I think we might do ’er this time.”
“That’s quite a feat.” Zach remembered his own Little League days in Illinois. One coach in particular had been his hero. Ed was probably a hero to these young boys, too.
“Yeah, well, it’s what I love. Have a seat. I was wondering if you’d stopped talking to me for some reason.”
“Sorry about that. I felt awkward yesterday.” Zach sat down in the chair, which wasn’t all that comfortable. “Look, I’m not happy with Medford’s office switch.”
Ed waved a beefy hand. “Forget about it. Medford has his game plan, and I’m just glad to have this. I know I’m not blazing any trails right now. I only need a couple more years, and I’ll be able to retire. I can live with the situation.”
Zach recognized a guy who understood his priorities. As someone who was still discovering his, Zach appreciated how difficult it could be to stick to those priorities when the pressure was on.
Ed set down his mug, which had COACH lettered on it in red. The entire surface of the mug was covered with childish signatures. “What can I do for you?”
“I need a favor. I can understand if you don’t want to help me under the circumstances, but I-”
“Hey, of course I’ll help you. It’s not your fault I’m out here.”
“I could have refused to take the corner office.”
“And risk pissing off a guy like Medford? You could lose your job. That would be crazy.”
Zach didn’t think so. As he gazed at those signatures on Ed’s mug, he knew that confronting Medford would be one of the sanest things he’d done in a while. Between that and making love to Hannah last night, he felt as if he was finally getting his priorities in order.
CHAPTER NINE
HANNAH COULDN’T BELIEVE IT. The vice president of one of the biggest publishers in New York had just offered her a job. And she’d accepted, controlling her glee as best she could while she was still in his office. But once she was standing on the sidewalk in front of the building, the building where she would be working starting tomorrow, she gave in to the urge to punch her fist in the air and do a victory dance. So what if people stared?
They didn’t, though. They were used to street performers in this town, and they might figure she was another one. As a piece of performance art, she’d label this one Jubilation. She had a job! She could hardly wait to tell Zach and thank him for the contact. He’d come through for her, big-time.
She could call him on her cell, but they’d agreed that the news was too important to be delivered by phone. She was supposed to meet him at Iris’s coffee stand when her interview was over. Hannah felt as if she could fly there, but because it was at least four miles away, she decided to splurge on a cab.
Mario wouldn’t be on duty, and she didn’t have a number to call him, anyway. But she could try out her whistle. She put her fingers in the corner of her mouth the way Zach had shown her, stuck her tongue behind her front teeth, and blew.
The little tweet that came out was beyond pathetic. She worked at it for another five minutes before finally giving it up as a bad job. Zach had said she’d need a lot of practice, and he was right. She resorted to standing in the street and waving her arms frantically until a cab finally swerved over and picked her up.
Neither the taxi nor the driver had Mario’s charm, but they transported her to Iris’s coffee stand in good order. Once there, she gave the driver a sizable tip, because she was feeling incredibly generous. Then she leaped out and ran over to the coffee stand. Zach wasn’t there yet, so Iris would be the first to hear her big news.