Page 22 of Bad Love

"You have other clients?" I ask, mockinglyshocked.

Kendall blinks. "You think I was just sitting at my desk waiting for you to walk in the otherday?"

I cock my head. "Kinda."

"I have lots of clients. I'm oversubscribed at the moment. Which is a good problem to have," she rushes, as if realizing she shouldn't be tellingme.

I shove my hands in my pockets, studying her. “So, why’re you helpingme?”

“Daisy made it worth mywhile.”

“Dammit. I thought it was my charm and good looks.” She rolls her eyes, and it’s as unexpected as it is cute. I run a rough hand through my damp hair. “So, what’s your event tonight? Sex therapist convention? DominatrixesAnonymous?”

This time I get a full smile, and I feel as though I should document it. She looks even younger and fresher, and I might have to spend more time provoking her because the curve of her lips is really fuckingpretty.

"It’s a counseling client. But we had a bunch of last-minute signups and I'm not sure how we're going to make itwork."

I walk Kendall to the elevator and watch her chew on her lip. "You shouldn't carry that yourself." I wedge a finger between the strap and her shoulder before she can protest. "It'sheavy."

"I'mstrong."

"I wasn't questioning your strength. It's basic comparative economics." She raises a brow. "I'm stronger. It makes more sense for me to carryit."

"Comparative economics," Kendall prompts, ignoring my offer to take thebag.

“That’s all I learned in four years of economics classes. Oneconcept.”

“You’re marketing director at Hunter’s Cross, one of the premier family-owned breweries in the country. I suspect you know alot."

"You've been looking me up?" I murmur,pleased.

There's an express elevator, but I hit the button on the slower publicbank.

Her chin lifts. "I need to know where my clients are coming from, and you're not the mostforthcoming."

I spread my hands. "I'm an openbook."

"All it takes is a drink?" Kendall's gaze flicks pointedly toward thebar.

The elevator opens, and I’m surprised to find myself following her ontoit.

“If you need more space for your event," I say before she can protest me going with her, "you can use the ballroom. It’s paid until five. We were shooting a commercial and finishedearly."

"Seriously?" Her eyes widen in surprise and something I haven’t seen from her yet. Hope.Eagerness.

I like that she wants something from me other than the sales numbers on Nellie’s dumb-ass Rocket II. "It'syours."

Two men come on after us. I hit the button for the floor in question and stand next toher.

From the intent way she’s studying the ornate panel of buttons, there’s something on her mind. "If you finished three hours early,” she says at last, “it seems you're comparatively good at a fewthings."

I lean in to keep our voices low. “Careful, your other clients might getjealous.”

The elevator stops for more people. I step back to let them on, and my hip brusheshers.

“What, no comeback?” I teaselightly.

She sucks in a breath but doesn’t move. “No. It sounds like the marketing director of Hunter’s Cross saved my ass today. So, thankyou.”

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