Blushing Pink (8 page)

Reese rolled her eyes as she wiped some scattered flour from the countertop. Classic Joanna Brock power play: Lull Reese into a false sense of security with small talk, then unleash the propaganda.

"No, I haven't."

"Well, why
not?"
Joanna nearly wailed. She abruptly cleared her throat and tried to sound casual. "Uh, I mean, when do you plan to see him?"

"Look, I'll see him at the wedding, but I really don't know about anything else."

"But, Reese—"

"I'm sorry if that disappoints you, but I don't know what else to say. He just... look, I just don't think he does it for me anymore." She opened the oven to check on the cinnamon rolls. They looked okay, so she elbowed the door shut, wiped her hand on her apron, and poised her thumb on "phone off." She truly loved her mother to pieces, but this conversation was running out of steam. And fast.

"Okay, Mom, I gotta go."

"Wait, what do you mean 'doesn't do it' for you? I thought Kenneth was pretty darn good-looking! And I'm not just saying that. I mean it, sweetheart—mmm-mmm, what a catch!" She was audibly rabid at this point. Yes, it was definitely time for a more drastic approach.

"Good-looking?" Reese echoed. "Are you
kidding,
Mom? I don't think he's good-looking at all!" Not exactly the truth, but Reese was a desperate woman.

If she didn't dispel some of her mother's infatuation with Kenneth, she was going to be nagging her about him the entire time Reese was home.

"What? Well, you used to like him. You can't tell me you didn't."

"Yeah, maybe I liked him for, like, a minute, but that was back when I was trying to look at the
inner
man," Reese said. Actually, in the beginning, she had found Kenneth appealing, and not just his intellect, but also his unassuming, albeit nerdy handsomeness. But honesty was always secondary in conversations with her mother. Survival was what counted.

"But the outer man?" Reese continued. She made a sound like
blech!
and finished, "Let's just say it leaves
a lot
to be desired."

"Oh, sweetheart, you're exaggerating," Joanna said, sounding more confused by the second. "I met Kenneth."

"But you've never gotten a real look at him, Mom."

"Oh... well... I thought I did. I remember he has dark hair—"

"Yeah, he has dark
greasy
hair," Reese said. "That is, if you can even call it hair."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a piece."

"Wha—wait a minute." Joanna sounded scandalized. "He
told
you that?"

Reese scoffed. "Don't you think I can tell a rug when I see it?" She almost laughed; her mother was just too easy. "Anyway, he's missing teeth," Reese added, still improvising. "And he has chronic halitosis."

Joanna blew out a heavy sigh. "Oh, my goodness, I had no idea."

"I tried to tell you, Mom. We're talking big-time uggo here," Reese added. "And that's who you want to get me together with? Thanks a lot."

"No, honey, I just didn't realize!"

"Yeah, that's great. You obviously think I can't get anyone better. You're ready to throw me at any deformed misfit who comes down the pike. Boy, my self-esteem's doing great."

"Honey, no!" she yelped. "I was just... Oh, I should really stop interfering in your love life."
You think?
"I know I only met him the one time, but I thought you two were so cute together." Reese heaved an impatient sigh. "Okay, okay, you're right. I should butt out."

"Okay," Reese said, "well, I've got to get back to work now."

"Wait! You're not angry with me, right?"

"I don't know...." Reese grinned to herself. "I need to cool down and think it over."

"Okay, but just remember that I love you!"

"Uh-huh," Reese said, feeling pretty victorious.

"You know you're my precious angel," Joanna added supersweetly.

"All right, Mommy, I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, have a great day at work. And remember, if any nice men come into the store, don't act all sullen and unapproachable. Bye, honey, I love you!"

Then she hung up before Reese could respond.

Sighing, she snapped her phone shut. Here she'd been feeling triumphant, and her mother had managed to one-up her with the most infuriating last word possible. Reese would love to try that herself sometime, but knew she couldn't, due to a double standard that had revealed itself roughly at birth.

Oh, well,
she thought, just as she heard a deep male voice behind her. "Well, I have to tell you, that's the first I've heard about my teeth."

* * *

Reese whipped her head around and found herself face-to-face with Brian Doren. Her breath caught.
Oh, wow.
It was like every time he was the same, only much more vivid. The handsome face, strong jaw, clenched cheek—wait, the clenched cheek was new. And it seemed to come from... anger?

"You'd better look away," he said flatly. "I wouldn't want you to turn to stone."

What? What on earth...? Oh, no.
Had Brian somehow overheard her conversation and thought she'd been talking about
him
instead of Kenneth?

It seemed impossible, but when she mentally replayed the one-sided conversation he'd been privy to, she realized how it could have happened.

Brian turned and walked off, shaking his head, but Reese found herself momentarily paralyzed. She supposed she was still too shocked to see him. She'd been working at Roland & Fisk for six months and had never once seen Brian Doren there—she definitely would have remembered. In a distant part of her mind, she knew it should be easy to clear this up. To catch up before he left and simply explain. But her heart was racing, her palms were sweating; and her feet were inexorably frozen.

Brian had made it to the steps of the cafe by the time Reese managed to spring into action. "Brian?" she called out, feeling guilty as hell, even though she technically hadn't done anything. He kept walking. "Wait!" she cried, and hurried after him.

She could hear the desperation in her heels as they clicked furiously across the shiny wood floor, and down the steps, onto the soft carpet of the store. "Brian,
wait!"

Finally he stopped, visibly let out a sigh, then turned around. He made just turning around itself seem a laborious effort.
Oh, he's really annoyed. What a mess!

"What?" he asked, his dark brown eyes suddenly falling hard on her.

"Let me explain," Reese said quickly, brushing a careless wave of hair out of her eyes. "What you heard right now was all made up. I mean... I had no idea you were standing there."

"Well, that was obvious."

"No, really..." Her voice trailed off momentarily, as she struggled to compose an explanation that wouldn't make her look like a complete
desperado.
But it seemed futile. "What I mean to say is, um, I was talking to my mother and"—
she's of the opinion that I'm turning into a real spinster
—"she was..."
blathering on in her usual relentless style.
"We weren't even talking about y—"

"Brock!"

Reese jumped at Darcy's voice, and watched with doom as her boss stormed toward her, her charm necklace clanging and her finger pointing accusingly. "Is
this
your post?"

Instinctively, Reese's face reddened. "No, Darcy, but—"

"What is your post?"

"I—"

"I can't
heeeaar
you." Then she brought her hands up to cup her ears dramatically.

"Excuse me," Brian said to Darcy, an edge in his voice, "I was asking this woman for help. Is there a problem?"

For a shocking twist, Darcy fell silent. So did Reese, but then, what could
she
say? Anyway, there'd been something in Brian's tone that sounded reasonable but firm, and calm but
very
intimidating.

"Oh, sir, of course." Darcy began groveling, and fiddling with her hair. Then she seemed to really notice Brian for the first time, and switched to an almost flirtatious tone. "I didn't mean to... I just figured that
she
was bothering
you."

Reese shot an insolent look that Darcy didn't catch. But then she was pretty busy—kissing up to Brian the customer, and batting her eyelashes at Brian the
man.
Reese could not believe what she was witnessing! Darcy was licking her lips and contorting her head into unnaturally coy poses, while Reese was standing there trying not to slap her.

She didn't even spare Reese a glance when she said, "Brock, when you're done with this customer, go back to the cafe." Then she giggled out of context, and trotted off.

Reese resisted an urge to stick her tongue out behind the bitch's back, and turned to face Brian again. She could feel the flaming heat on her cheeks, and wished more than anything that she could take back the last five minutes.

No, ten. She never should've answered her cell.

She twisted her hands as she met his eyes. "Brian, you've got this all wrong...."

He scoffed, like he couldn't care less anymore. "Forget it," he said, and walked away.

This time she didn't follow him.

She just stood frozen, shell-shocked and tongue-tied, watching him go. He moved briskly through the store to the front entrance, and then he was gone. Disappearing into the rain, into the masses of people clogging Fifty-fourth Street, and out of her life once again.

Chapter 6

By the time Brian got back to his office, he was royally pissed. There went his one hour of relaxing—or trying to—at Roland & Fisk. After four meetings that morning alone, all he'd wanted was his soup and his double espresso and to read the paper in peace. The last thing he'd expected was to be slammed by the help.

He also hadn't expected the help to be the sister of his friend's fiancé, or the girl who'd sat beside him at the Applegate Diner just the night before—or the girl he'd devoured like a starving man at a party two years ago. Speaking of that, what the hell was that halitosis crack? He'd never heard complaints about his breath before, and he wasn't missing
teeth,
for chrissake!

Damn it all.
He was trying to forget what'd happened, but in truth, he was still rattled. It shouldn't bother him so much, but he was going to see her again at Ben and Ally's wedding in a few weeks, and if that was how she remembered him... He shook his head at the thought. Fucking embarrassing.

Just then the phone on his desk rang. "Brian Doren. Oh, right, I'll bring the paperwork. No problem, I'll be there in five minutes."
Great.
He'd forgotten about the status meeting at two o'clock. He released a deep sigh and gathered up some folders he'd need.

He made a mental note to call Danny afterward and make sure she was taking it easy. He'd sent her enough money to cover her expenses for the next few weeks, and he wanted to make sure she didn't need more. He also had to call his mom to make sure his dad wasn't driving, and to double-check that she had gotten her new eyeglass prescription.

Oh, yeah, and he had to call Veronica back. She'd left him two messages that morning.

As he made his way down the hall, he straightened his tie and ignored the clawing in his gut that must have been leftover Reese Brock-related tension. The whole incident at the bookstore had really thrown him. When he'd gotten to the cafe, he'd noticed that the girl working behind the counter was on the phone, and he'd assumed she'd be with him soon. What he hadn't assumed was that she'd begin talking about
him—insulting
him.
Him!

He hadn't counted on realizing in a matter of moments that that cute round ass belonged to Reese Brock, and he hadn't counted on Reese Brock regarding him as Quasimodo. Balding, Altoid-needing Quasimodo.
Jesus.

And had he officially gone crazy or did her memory of him seem completely divorced from the reality of that night they'd spent? They had talked for most of the New Year's party, and ended up in the hallway, kissing and pawing at each other, right there with fifty other people around the corner. Sure, he hadn't gotten the vibe from her that she was interested in anything more, but he hadn't picked up on her being
nauseated,
either.

And why was she talking about him like he was dying to get together with her? Had he ever
said
that? But he supposed he knew the answer to that—obviously his attraction to her had been more obvious than he thought. She must've picked up on it at the diner.

Well, so what? He was a male; she was a female... since when did that make him a charity case?
To hell with it,
he thought irritably. She was clearly unstable. And he was just in a rotten mood because he hadn't gotten his double espresso, and now had to face a long afternoon of meetings ahead of him.

The pounding in his head started again. It turned into a relentless beating against his temple the moment he entered the conference room.

* * *

It was normal to be exhausted after working a shift at Roland & Fisk, but this was the first time Reese also felt like she'd ingested her body weight in guilt. The incident with Brian Doren at the cafe had happened four hours ago, but it kept echoing through her brain.