Page 41 of Turn

CHAPTER TWELVE

The first person I saw after I sat down at my desk on Monday morning was Curtis Mulligan. He said nothing to me and gave no hint that he wanted me to acknowledge him in any way. He stalked through the lobby with his head down and headed down the hall toward the break room.

I sighed audibly. I wasn’t sure why things felt so weird between Curtis and me. Maybe it was all in my head and he hadn’t given me a second thought lately. Something told me that wasn’t the case and with this instinct I followed him, figuring I had another few minutes before everyone else would start filtering in.

Curtis was standing in the break room, staring at the empty coffee machine.

“Good morning,” I said, with more attitude than I’d intended.

He looked up, his bloodshot eyes evidently surprised to discover that I existed.

“No coffee today?” he asked.

“Coffee and filters are in the cabinet above the sink,” I said. “You’re free to make some.”

He was silent.

“Unless you’re implying that I should do it,” I said.

He gave me a puzzled look. “Did I piss you off or something?”

“When?”

“I don’t know.”

I took the glass carafe from the coffee machine and started to fill it with water since Curtis was obviously not going to take that step.

“You know, it’s not a crime to say good morning when you walk through the front door,” I said, watching the water rise to the line.

Curtis surprised me by apologizing. “I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

I looked him over. His hair was still wet from the shower and he had on a clean set of clothes yet he was visibly fatigued and his jaw looked even scruffier than usual. If I were placing bets I would guess he hadn’t slept well in days. And somehow none of that stopped him from being so absurdly sexy I was having trouble keeping my mind on track.

“Are you sick or something?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Hung over?”

A flash of annoyance crossed his face. “Cassie, why the hell do you keep assuming I just walked out of a party ten minutes ago?”

“What do you mean?”

“Last week you told me I looked, what was it…disheveled. Then you asked if I had a wild night.”

I was startled, then felt a little guilty as I realized he was right. I was being sarcastic, implying that he was out partying irresponsibly. I had no right to do that. “You’re right,” I said. “And I apologize. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Great.”

“You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“I’m so relieved.”

I set the carafe on the counter and turned to him with my hands on my hips. “Damn it, Curtis. You don’t make anything easy, do you?”

He yawned. “Nothing is easy. At least not for some of us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

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