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“I see him.” Amy’s sunny disposition had disappeared, and she continued to stand in the doorway. “Hello, Mark.”
“Hi, Amy,” Mark replied.
Clara frowned at her. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Well, sit down and have dessert with us.”
“I’m full,” Amy said. “Jane, would you mind if we left? I have a headache.”
She gave Jane an almost desperate look, and Jane shook her head. “No, of course not. Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Dawson, it was delicious.”
“You’re welcome, dear. Amy, are you sure you can’t stay?” Clara asked.
“Positive,” Amy said. She crossed the kitchen and hugged her mother before pecking her father on the cheek. “Good night. Thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome, honey.”
* * *
“Amy? Do you want to talk about it?” Jane asked.
They had just arrived home. Amy was sullen and quiet the entire way home, and Jane wasn’t sure what to say or do.
“Talk about what?”
“Why you’re angry with Mark,” Jane said.
“I’m not,” Amy said with a scowl.
“You seem angry with him.”
“Well, I’m not,” Amy repeated. “I’m tired and think I’ll have a hot bath and go to bed. Good night, Jane.”
“Night, Amy. Thank you for today. I had a lot of fun.”
Amy’s face softened, and she smiled at Jane. “Me too. Thanks for coming with me.”
CHAPTER 9
“Are you kidding me?” Jane sighed with exasperation. She added another pile of paper to Luke’s desk, and her elbow bumped one of the others. The papers dropped and floated to the floor under his desk as she sighed again.
It was her own fault. She was a bundle of nerves this morning and almost jittery with excitement. Luke was back in the office this morning after being gone for two weeks. She pushed Luke’s chair back, dropped to her knees and crawled under the massive desk. As she gathered the papers, she tried to tell herself she wasn’t excited about seeing Luke again.
Neither her head nor body believed her, and another slight vibration of excitement went down her spine. She had spoken to Luke by email almost every day the first week but hadn’t heard from him at all the second week. Not surprising, considering he was on holiday, but a small part of her had hoped he would email her. The second week was very quiet, and what little work stuff had come up, Mark could answer all of her questions. She couldn’t even use work as an excuse to email Luke.
She picked up the last of the papers and clutched them to her chest. She shrieked and reared up when something brushed her foot. The back of her head hit the top of Luke’s desk with a meaty thud, and she groaned as she was pulled out from under the desk. Her head rang, and little dots of light flashed in her vision as she squinted at Luke. He was sitting in his chair, his face a mask of surprise and confusion, and he hauled her to her knees before touching her head.
“What are you doing under my desk?”
“I dropped some papers.” She touched the back of her head and winced as Luke muttered a curse.
“Are you okay?’ he asked.
“I hit my head a little,” she mumbled.
“Let me see.”
