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“What?”
I stepped back in front of the screen. “Work. What are you going to do about getting a job?”
She paused her show again. “I’m just waiting for you to talk to the replacement fuckhead and get me back into the company.”
“It’s not that simple. You’ve been accused of stealing from us.”
“But I didn’t do it.” She pulled her legs up to her chest. “Don’t you get that?”
“You’re the one who doesn’t get it.” I turned around and hit the power button on the TV, hard, shutting it down.
“Hey, I was watching that.”
“No, you were being disrespectful. Josh is a nice guy, and you will not refer to him as a fuckhead.”
Her head tilted, and her eyes narrowed. “Okay, already. What changed since last night?”
Her question jarred me more than it should have. A lot had changed since last night in the Josh Benson department.
“I spent time with him today, and he’s not a bad guy.” Heat rose in my cheeks as I remembered how close we’d been when he’d backed me against the car. We were a team, he’d said. That had changed everything.
She squinted at me. “You’re sweet on the F-H. That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Get real. Do I appreciate the fact that he flew me back here Sunday night when he didn’t have to so I could bail your ass out of jail first thing Monday morning? Yes. Do I appreciate that he wrote a personal check today to keep the company afloat? Yes. Do either of those things make him a nice guy? Yes. Now get a clue, Lara. You can’t just sit on your ass all day and blame everybody else for your problems.”
I marched to the kitchen, not wanting to continue an argument that wouldn’t do either of us any good. Surveying the fridge, I chose orange juice and poured myself a glass.
Lara had resumed her show, but at least she’d turned down the volume. When was she going to get serious about her life?
The sale papers for Tuscan Foods were still on the table from last night. I shoved them back into the FedEx envelope so I didn’t have to see them and be reminded of how drastically things had changed in the last few days. Sipping my juice, I thought back to that moment before lunch when I was pinned against the car, with a bare inch separating Josh from me.
I’d chosen to trust him, and what I’d explained to Lara about why had been the logic of it, but there was more. In his eyes, I saw something that drew me in. Maybe it was honesty, maybe it was determination. Maybe it was something more.
After finishing my juice, I stood wearily and opened the refrigerator again to pick out something for dinner.
When the doorbell rang, I closed the fridge and this time walked behind the couch.
Lara hadn’t budged.
I opened the door to find Josh standing on my porch.
He checked his watch. “We said seven, right?”
I backed clear of the door. “Yes, come in. I, uhh…” I caught myself before he corrected me for using a filler word. “I didn’t think we were still on, after everything.”
I’d separated my Josh encounter into pre-takeover and post-takeover, and I’d written off his pre-takeover texts inviting me to dinner, given how I’d acted since then, and not to mention our new working relationship.
He stepped inside. “You have a fine old house here.”
I closed the door behind him. “Thank you,” I replied, suddenly embarrassed by the condition of Casa di Rossi.
Not expecting guests, I hadn’t cleaned. The dust bunnies of dog hair along the floorboards and the mess on the hall table I hadn’t noticed until now were suddenly all too obvious.
Josh’s eyes narrowed on me, mercifully avoiding the mess around us. “I said I would take you to dinner, and I was brought up to follow through on my commitments.”
The sound of Lara’s TV show in the other room went quiet.
This whole situation had caught me off-guard. “I…”
