Page 26 of Romance and Peppermint Lattes
Nolan paused in front of her door and waited while she scrabbled through her bag, searching for the key. “I hear you typing at night,” she said. “Are you working on anything special?”
“No.”
She eyed him curiously. “How fast do you type? Eighty words a minute? A hundred? And for heaven’s sake, why don’t you use a computer like everyone else?”
“Sixty words a minute on a good day. And for your information, I happen to like my electric. It may be old, but it does the job.”
She finally retrieved her key, conscious of his gaze on her hands.
Suddenly he grasped her fingers. “All right,” he demanded. “What happened to you?”
ChapterFive
“Nothing’s happened to me,” Maryanne insisted hotly, pulling her hand free of Nolan’s.
“Look at your nails,” he said. “There isn’t one that’s not broken.”
“You make it sound like I should be dragged before a firing squad at dawn. So I chipped a few nails this week. I’ll survive.” Although she was making light of it, each broken fingernail was like a small loss. She took pride in her perfect nails, or at least she once had.
His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“I didn’t realize you’d appointed yourself my father confessor.”
Anger flashed in his dark eyes as he took the key from her unresisting fingers. He opened the door and, with one hand at her shoulder, urged her inside. “We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.” Maryanne marched into the apartment, plunked her bag of groceries on the kitchen counter and spun around to confront her neighbor. “Listen here, buster, you’ve made it perfectly clear that you don’t want anything to do withme. That’s your choice, and I’m certainly not going to bore you with the sorry details of my life.”
He ignored her words and started pacing the small living area, pausing in front of the window. His presence filled the apartment, making it seem smaller than usual. He pivoted sharply, pointing an accusatory finger in her direction. “These broken nails came from swinging a dust mop around, didn’t they? What the hell are you doing?”
Maryanne didn’t answer him right away. She was angry, and his sudden concern for her welfare made her even angrier. “I told you before, I don’t need a guardian.”
“Against my advice, you took that stupid job. Anyone with half a brain would know it wasn’t going to—”
“Will you stop acting like you’re responsible for me?” Maryanne snapped.
“I can’t help it. Iamresponsible for you. You wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t written that damn column. I don’t want to intrude on your life any more than you want me to, but let’s face it, there’s no one else to look out for you. Sooner or later someone’s going to take advantage of you.”
That did it. Maryanne stalked over to him and jabbed her index finger into his chest with enough force to bend what remained of her nail. “In case you need reminding, I’m my own woman. I make my own decisions. I’ll work any place I damn well please. Furthermore, I can take care of myself.” She whirled around and opened her front door. “Now kindly leave!”
“No.”
“No?” she repeated.
“No,” he said again, returning to the window. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed impatiently. “You haven’t eaten, have you? I can tell, because you get testy when you’re hungry.”
“If you’d leave my apartment the way I asked, that wouldn’t be a problem.”
“How about having dinner with me?”
The invitation took Maryanne by surprise. Her first impulse was to throw it back in his face. After an entire week of pretending she didn’t exist, he had a lot of nerve even asking.
“Well?” he prompted.
“Where?” As if that made a difference. Maryanne was famished, and the thought of sharing her meal with Nolan was more tempting than she wanted to admit, even to herself.
“The diner.”
“Are you going to order chili?”
