Adam's narrowed gaze seemed to cut right through her, and Jilly experienced the uncomfortable sensation that he could divine her thoughts. "Something happen last weekend I should know about, Jilly?"
"No. I just believe in assigning the best person to the job for the good of the company. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I think I'm the right person. In this particular case, however, I think Matt is."
"Well, I'll certainly take that under advisement." Adam stood, indicating their meeting was over. Jilly rose, shook his hand, then exited the office. She walked quickly to her cubicle where she gathered her overcoat, laptop and briefcase, then headed toward the bank of elevators. She had a meeting with a client in thirty minutes, but her thoughts were far away from the new ad campaign she was about to present. No, all she could think about was Matt, and what a great job he would do for Millenium Airways.
By the time Jilly left her client, it was nearly six o'clock. Since she was only three blocks from Penn station, she decided not to return to Maxximum's offices, but go directly home. She'd already called Kate and canceled their club hop. She was tired and her feet hurt. All she wanted to do was strip off her suit, throw on her rattiest sweats, and dig into the double chocolate brownie fudge ice cream beckoning her.
During both the short walk to Penn, then her thirty-minute Long Island Railroad train ride, she thought about Matt. Good grief, there could be no doubt that she loved the guy. If she didn't, she never would have done such an unprecedented thing as decline Adam's offer to head up the Millenium Airways account and suggest Matt for the position. But Matt deserved it. And he really was the best man for the job.
He's also the best man for you, her inner voice stated emphatically during the short drive home from the train station to her modest, Cape Cod house. Jilly heaved out a long sigh. Yes, he was. And over the course of this weekend, she planned to apply herself to formulating a plan of action for convincing Matt to resume their affair. Surely it shouldn't prove too difficult. He'd seemed open to the idea at the beginning of the week. Yes, being with him, and having to endure the eventual end of their affair would be painful, but, damn it, not being with him was already painful-so why not suffer with him instead of alone? One thing was for sure-it was time to cash in her chips and claim her prize. And as ill-advised as it might be, she wanted Matt for her prize.
She turned onto her quiet, tree-lined street. Holiday lights twinkled in windows, forcibly reminding her that tomorrow was Christmas Eve. The remnants of last weekend's snowfall coated the lawns with a blanket of white, bringing to mind a vivid, aching image of her snowball fight with Matt.
She slowed as she drew closer to her house, peering through the darkness at the black car-a very familiar black car-parked in her driveway. Her heart skipped a beat, then thumped hard.
With her insides quivering, she pulled in behind the Lexus. Almost immediately, the driver's door opened, and Matt climbed out. Her headlights played over him, dressed in a dark wool overcoat, a Burberry plaid scarf tucked around his neck, one hand jammed into his coat pocket while the other clutched a plain, brown shopping bag. He looked tall and beautiful and serious and good enough to eat. And here.
But why was he here? Well, she certainly wouldn't find out sitting in the car, and she definitely wanted to know. Drawing a bracing breath meant to calm her jangling nerves-and which utterly failed-she turned off her ignition. Be calm, be cool. Great advice. Only problem was she felt extremely uncalm and uncool.
Grabbing her purse and other belongings, she slid from the car, then bumped the door closed with her hip. Forcing a display of nonchalance that deserved not only an Oscar but an Emmy and a Golden Globe as well, she said, "Well, this is a surprise."
"Not an unpleasant one, I hope."
Jilly cocked a brow. "Depends on why you're here."
"I'd be happy to tell you-" his gaze drifted toward the house "-if you'd like to invite me in." When she hesitated he added, "It's kinda cold out here, and I forgot my gloves."
Another image of their snowball fight flashed through her mind. He'd forgotten his gloves then, too. The image was followed immediately by a mental picture of them kissing in the snow.
"How did you know where I live?"
"Well, I'd love to dazzle you with my brilliance and say it was very complicated and required a great deal of detective work, but actually I just looked you up in the Nassau county phone book."
"Ah. Mystery solved. How long have you been waiting?"
"About an hour."
"And how did you know I'd even come home tonight?"
Something flashed in his eyes. "I didn't," he said softly. "But I hoped you would."
Surely he had to hear her heart beating. She could hear the thump, thump, thump in her own ears. And the rapid puffs of cold vapor emanating from between her lips were surefire giveaways of her uncalm, uncool state.
Commanding her legs to move and her eyeballs to quit gawking at him, she nodded toward the cement path leading to her front door. "Well, I don't want to be responsible for you freezing to death out here, so c'mon in."
A quick grin flashed across his handsome features and he fell into step beside her. "Thanks."
Half a minute later, they stepped into the small, ceramic-tiled foyer. Jilly flicked on a pair of switches that illuminated the front picture window with tiny, blinking holiday lights, and lit up the small Christmas tree set in the corner.
Matt yanked his gaze away from Jilly before he gave into the overwhelming urge to mess up her perfect chignon, and instead focused his attention on the simple, yet tasteful den furnishings. Pale walls, cushy sectional sofa, glass-topped coffee table adorned with a pile of magazines, television and stereo set into an attractive oak entertainment center. Framed photos were scattered on end tables, and several 8x10s hung on the wall, all depicting Jilly with an attractive woman who was clearly her mother, and a smiling man-based on the resemblance, obviously her father.
The room reflected so many of the things he loved about her-it was neat, comfortable, warm and inviting. Beyond the den he saw the unlit eat-in kitchen.
"Nice place," he said with a smile that he hoped didn't announce his nervousness.
"Thank you. It's a great neighborhood, and I was lucky enough to buy the house just before the Long Island housing prices increased from 'insane' to 'completely insane.'" She accepted his coat and hung it in a small closet near the door. "I rent out the upstairs, which helps considerably with the mortgage. My tenant, Mrs. Peterson, is a gem. She's a widow, and I inherited her when I bought the house."
"Did I take her parking spot?"
"No. She's in Florida for the holidays, visiting her son. I really miss her. Having her here makes living alone not so… alone."
"Yeah," he said softly, his gaze roaming over her face, then resting on her beautiful lips. "Alone stinks."
He heard her swallow. Then she closed the closet and nodded at the shopping bag he still gripped. "What's in there?"
"I'll show you in a minute."
"Okay." Her hand swept toward the sofa. "Make yourself at home. Can I get you something?"
His gaze flitted over her no-nonsese black suit, and a dozen things she could get him instantly streaked through his mind. He forced himself to shake his head. "No, thanks."
She moved to the sofa and sat, then indicated he should do the same. He settled himself, leaving several feet between them on the overstuffed cushion, and placed his shopping bag near his feet. Her gaze darted to her watch, and his stomach clenched. "Am I keeping you from something?" he asked. Or someone?