Artfully Yours (13 page)

“For God’s sake.” She clicked her fingers, redirecting him to her now seriously pissed-off face. “It’s like you’re
asking
me to sue.”

He turned a dull red. “Sorry.”

“Pervert.” Sadie slammed out.

Elle stared at the guy, who shrugged back at her. “Thirty-six double Ds,” he said. “Can you blame me?”

Yes, I can.

His gaze skipped to Elle’s chest. She rebuttoned her suit jacket and narrowed her eyes at him.

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Cassidy says you’re here for the job?”

“Are there any other clinics around here within, say, a forty-minute drive?”

“Nope.”

“Then I’m here for the job.”

“Why don’t you take a seat, Ms Finley?” He drummed his fingers on the desktop, scanning the folder with her résumé. “Elizabeth Finley.
Elle
Finley?”

“Yes.”

He sat back and smiled at her, face open and boyish. “It’s Ted!”

Elle sucked in a breath. “Nooo—” she started.

He laughed. “Yes! Ted! T.J. Coleman!”

Noooo.

“I was a couple of years ahead of you, but you’ll remember me. Emerson High. Hah. You, of all people, must remember.”

Oh. She remembered.

“What are the odds? This is crazy. I haven’t seen you in, what, years? And now here you are.” He flipped the folder closed, leaning toward her. “Couple of months ago, who else do you think came in?”

By the sparkle in his dark blue eyes, she could guess.

“He came in with a burn. And I’m not talking like a small one from an iron or a grill or anything. This was a serious nasty damn burn. Looked like someone took a blowtorch to his arm. Want to guess who it was?”

“Nope. Can we stick to—”

“Fat Casanova! Remember that guy? Yeah, you remember him. Kid who dry-humped you up against the lockers in front of the whole school. Hard to forget something like that, right?”

Hard to forget, yes.
When everyone keeps reminding me about it.

“Nobody could get him off you. We all thought you guys were just going to go ahead and do the nasty right in the hall. Lucky I was there, huh? Or it could have gotten embarrassing. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Elle’s hands clenched into fists on her thighs.
Think about the job. The house. Jenny. Katie.

“Can you imagine how much better it would have been if we had YouTube back then?” T.J. shook his head. “How many hits do you think that would have gotten? Ten, twenty thousand?”

The rest of the interview passed with T.J. enthusiastically reminiscing, oblivious to Elle’s tight-lipped and reluctant participation. Twenty minutes later, she came out of T.J.’s office and stomped to the staffroom. Cassidy and Sadie were at the table, drinking coffee.

“Uh-oh,” Cassidy said. “You didn’t get the job. I should have told you to stuff your bra.”

Sadie shot her a dirty look. “That man is obsessed with breasts. He’s a goddamn doctor. A thirty-five-year-old doctor. You think he’d be over boobs by now and could stop behaving like a high school jerk.”

“No guy gets over boobs,” Cassidy said.

“You know how many times he’s looked me in the eye? Three times. The rest of the time—” she sat back and gestured to her chest, “—my boobs.”

“I got the job,” Elle said.

Sadie punched the air. “Yes.”

“Then why the face?” Cassidy asked. “What did he do?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t turn your back on him,” said Sadie. “He will.”

“Nothing
recently
. Turns out, I know Ted. T.J. We have a history.”

Cassidy sighed. “That poor boy. He’s going to have a hell of a shock if he ever loses his surfer-dude good looks. Women are blinded by it and think he’s being ironic when he says the sort of shit he usually says. And then they realize he is in fact that much of a jackass. He’s sweet, but he’s a jackass.”

“Sweet, hah.” Sadie curled her lip.

Cassidy pointed at her. “He’s a sweetheart. Not a cruel bone in his body. Just a whole lot of stupid.”

Elle shuddered. “Not that kind of history. We went to high school together. And he’s responsible for the most embarrassing moment of my life thus far.”

Responsible might be pushing it, but he was at least complicit. If it wasn’t for T.J., probably Alex would have stopped before things had gone too far, and their kiss would have been nothing more than another hot and heavy make-out session, forgotten by next period.

Probably
he would have stopped.

Cassidy and Sadie stopped glaring at each other and turned to her. “Tell us,” Cassidy said.

She told them.

“And you’re still taking the job?” Sadie said in disbelief. “Even though you’ll have to work with him every single day?”

Elle shrugged. “I need the money.” She glanced at Cassidy, who was staring at her. “I
really
need the money. I’m still waiting to hear the plumber’s diagnosis, but it’s entirely possible my toilet might be a portal to Hell.”

Cassidy sat back in her chair. “That explains it. I thought maybe it was some dumb jock frat boy thing. Four months ago, this guy came in. He. Was. Fine. Beyond belief
fine
. He seemed irritated enough to be here in the first place, and let me tell you, he was working that whole brooding angle, with the scowl and the dark eyes. Gave me a hot flash. Anyway, he was here for a wound check and an antibiotic shot, you know the drill, and then Ted came into the waiting room. This guy took one look at him and—”

Sadie and Elle leaned forward.

“He stood up, grabbed the fire extinguisher, and hosed Ted down with it. Head to toe. The full canister.”

Sadie’s grin was enormous. “What happened then?”

“Ted laughed, went to change into clean scrubs. The guy sat back down, picked up his magazine and carried on reading. Weird thing? It was
Vogue
. Ted came out, called him in, and that was it. I’m telling you, I had 911 all queued up on the phone and ready to go, but I guess Ted just gave him his shot, did the dressing, and that was it.”

“Huh.” They all contemplated their coffee cups.

“Told you he was a sweetheart,” Cassidy said.

Using the word sweetheart to describe the guy who’d blasted her and Alex with not one but two fire extinguishers to break them apart, whooping with glee as he did it, was a bit of a reach. At least it seemed T.J. had a sense of humor that remained intact when he was the butt of it. That was good in a boss, right?

Sadie was disappointed Elle couldn’t start that day, but as she promised to start the next day, Cassidy managed to convince Sadie not to succumb to the convenient migraine threatening to descend upon her out of nowhere now there was another nurse on the premises, and work out her hours.

Even if she didn’t have important things to do, like pick up Katie from preschool, Elle thought as she turned into the parking lot outside the strip mall, she wouldn’t have started today. She needed at least twenty-four hours to process the fact her new boss was Ted “T.J.” Coleman. More importantly, she needed ice cream.

To celebrate the new job.

To celebrate a functioning toilet (oh, please).

And to soothe her rattled nerves.

Leaving the suit jacket in the car, she fluffed out her hair and headed into the market. This particular ice cream hunt was a celebration rather than a peace-keeping mission, so she decided to level up. Along with the ice cream, the hard-shell chocolate syrup, the pack of brownies, the squirty cream, and the fudge sauce for her latest concoction, she threw in a tube of face mask, bright red nail polish, and bubble bath. The Finley girls were going to have a pamper night.

She was hovering in the hair products aisle, basket at her feet as she compared bottles of conditioner—extra shine or extra bounce?—when she registered someone coming to a stop beside her. She looked up into Derek Tate’s cheerful face.

“Hey, Derek.”

“Elle.”

“How’s collections and intimidations going? Repossessed anyone’s television today?”

Derek laughed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Pretty sure the only person I intimidate is your sister, which I find intriguing since not a damn thing else intimidates Jenny. And the collections thing?” His eyes gleamed with amusement as he ducked down to stage-whisper, “I’m not a collection agent. I’m a mechanic. Got my own garage and everything.”

“So you
were
robbing Jenny? I was kind of joking when I said that. I’m telling your mother.”

“Nope. I was helping out a buddy. He’s a client of mine, brought his Chevy in for some work and mentioned he was going to collect from the Hansen place, asked was the ex-wife likely to give him trouble.”

“Ah,” Elle said, putting the conditioner back on the shelf.

“Yeah. For the record, I never told Jenny at any point I was in collections. She just assumed it because, well, she likes to assume the worst about me.”

“Why did you do it, Derek?”

“I think you already know this, but I’m in love with her.” His smile softened. “Have been for, oh, years now. Best day of my life when I heard she was getting divorced.”

“Really?”

He sketched an arc in the air between them. “Rainbows. Birds singing. Sparkles.”

“You do realize when Jenny finds out, she’s going to lose it?”

“When she finds out I went along to keep her angry instead of letting her freak out? Or when she finds out I’m in love with her?”

“Either. Both. She’ll explode.”

Derek’s eyes turned dreamy. “Counting on it,” he said, and absently swung his basket. “Can’t wait.”

Elle’s attention was drawn down by the movement. She blinked. Unlike her basket, which was stuffed to the brim, there was a single item in Derek’s basket. A giant box of condoms.

Don’t blush. You’re a nurse, damn it.
She glanced back up to find him watching her.

Derek winked. “Oh, these? They’re for me and Jenny. I’ve been a gentleman and waited long enough, given her that space she keeps talking about. Decided it’s time. I’m going to go for it. Going to go for it hard.”

“Eww, Derek. Don’t say things like that to me. I don’t want those thoughts in my head.”

He grinned, wide. “Elle Finley. You’re imagining me naked, aren’t you?”

Elle opened and shut her mouth a few times. She
hadn’t
been.
Now
she was.

“Want me to tell you about the piercing?” Derek asked, enjoying her flustered response. “Make sure you’re getting the visual right?”

“No!”

His amusement drained away as she felt heat approach her back like a rising flame, and someone came to a stop behind her. Right behind her.

Derek straightened, guarded. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

Elle turned. Alex stood so close that she brushed up against him, then jerked back in surprise. Derek put a hand on her shoulder to steady her at the same time as Alex placed a hand on her hip, fingers flexing to draw her closer. His dark eyes flickered from Elle to Derek and back. From Elle’s red cheeks to Derek’s basket and back.

Derek cocked his head. “Did he growl at me?” he asked Elle. He moved closer, voice sharpening. “Elle, you know this guy?”

“She knows me,” Alex said. “Who are you?”

“Okay.” Elle twisted to place one hand on Derek’s chest, one on Alex’s, and pushed. Derek yielded to her direction. Alex didn’t shift an inch. She lifted her brows at him. His angry expression didn’t change. And he still didn’t move. “Derek, this is Alex. He’s my…uh…he’s my neighbor.” The last word came out more of a wheeze when Alex pressed the back of his hand to her bright red cheek. It was a fleeting, fascinated touch she could tell was involuntary, but he may as well have thrown her down and leaped on top, the way the sensation of his skin against hers streaked through her. She stared up at him for a moment, shook her head, and said, “Derek is my sister’s…uh…”

“Boyfriend,” Derek supplied. “Well, good as.”

Alex’s large body eased. “All right. Hi.”

“Good to meet you,” the ever-cheerful Derek said. Then his grin widened. “Neighbor?” he said to Elle.

“Yes. He lives at the Adams place.” She squinted at the dancing humor on Derek’s face, then followed his pointed gaze downward.

Alex had a basket clenched in his large hand.

In the basket was one item.

A giant box of condoms.

Elle’s head shot up and her eyes collided with Alex’s smoldering gaze.

“Hah,” she said.
The weird noises? Again?
She snagged her basket from the floor, lifted it up high, holding it between them. “Nice to see you both. Got to go. My ice cream’s melting. Derek.” She nodded. “Alex.” She bolted.

Mature, Finley. Real mature.

CHAPTER ELEVEN