A Hope Undaunted (14 page)

His phone rang again, and he turned to answer it. She closed the door and pressed the files to her chest, her heart pounding faster than Bobbie Sue’s fingers on her Remington keyboard. Neither woman looked up from their tasks, and Katie had never been happier to be ignored. She was sure her face was on fire and her pride all in flames. And the last thing she needed from either of them was any more heat.

She laid the letter on Betty’s desk and hurried back to her own, relieved to have something to occupy her thoughts – to focus on anything other than the roiling confusion in her mind. What in the world just happened? Her stomach was quivering and her pulse was racing, and all because of a compliment from Cluny McGee? Never in all of her life had she believed she’d miss the annoying little beggar – so arrogant, so irritating, and so easy to hate. Sweet saints, where was he now when her knees were knocking and her mind turned to mush? She picked up a file with quivering hands and slammed it back down, palm pressed tight to obliterate the shaking.
No! This can’t be happening – I am not attracted to that,
that . . . puny little pest!

The “pest” suddenly strode from his office like a man on a mission, lips clamped tight in a face of chiseled granite. Katie’s heart stopped, only to reengage after he barreled into Parker’s office and slammed the door. She swallowed hard at the sight of his daunting six-foot-three frame that clearly defied any credence to the term “puny.”

Katie blinked and put a hand to her queasy stomach, feeling the need to powder her nose. She yanked her purse from her drawer and told Betty she’d be right back, then bolted from the room. Running down the hall, she knocked on the ladies’ restroom and entered, careful to lock the door behind. She sagged against the sink with labored breathing, then finally allowed herself to face the woman in the mirror – the one who had just experienced her worst nightmare.

God, help me . . . I’m attracted to Cluny McGee!

A faint, pitiful groan issued forth as she wavered, still reeling from the shock of the encounter. Dear Lord, how could this have happened? When had prickles of annoyance turned to prickles of heat? Katie put a hand to her stomach and sucked in a deep breath, painfully aware that no man had ever made her feel this way. She thought of Jack with his easy manner and hungry kisses, and knew they’d never made her feel like she did right now. Her knees all but buckled at the thought.

No!
Jack was everything she wanted – the culmination of a perfectly planned list and the husband of her dreams – smart, handsome, rich, and politically connected. Together they could climb to social strata she’d only dreamed about, allowing unprecedented advantage in her quest for women’s rights. Her resolve tightened, along with her stomach. And no penniless, streetwise lawyer was going to get in her way.

Her lips leveled in defiance. She bent over the sink to wash her hands and scrubbed hard, hoping to sanitize her mind from further thoughts of Luke McGee. It would be easy, she vowed, avoiding him as much as he seemed to avoid her. She could do this – less than two months remained.

She reached for the towel and dried her hands, grateful her pulse was returning to normal once again. The thought suddenly occurred that she hadn’t seen Jack in over a month, and a surge of relief washed over her. Of course – that was it! She missed Jack, that’s all. Missed his humor, his kisses, his affectionate doting. Her mouth trembled into a shaky smile as she tossed the towel back on the rack. Maybe a midnight rendezvous was in order after all, despite her brother’s warning. Her heart began to race. Yes, Jack’s heated kisses were just what she needed to clear the fog from her mind. She jerked the door open, quite certain she had a workable plan –

To get back in the arms of the man of her dreams . . . and out of the arms of danger.

Head throbbing, Luke closed his director’s door and flopped into a chair.

Parker looked up from his work and glanced at his watch. “Ready?”

“Nope.” Luke massaged his temples with the span of his hand. “Sorry, Parker, gotta ditch the meeting. Gabe’s on the lam.”

Parker sagged back into his chair, disbelief dropping his jaw. “Again? Dear Lord, how can one little girl get in so much trouble?”

Thoughts of Katie O’Connor as a pigtailed brat came to Luke’s mind, and he attempted a smile that hurt. “A lot, apparently. Only this time it involves stolen money.”

“What?” Parker tossed his pen on the desk in frustration.

“Yep. Mrs. Merkle complained to Harris Stowe who complained to Carmichael, who complained to me, not ten minutes ago. Claims Gabe stole money from Mrs. Merkle’s cookie jar and took a hike. They’ve been looking for her all day with no luck. Carmichael wants me to go smooth things over with Mrs. Merkle and then hunt down the little thief.”

Parker pinched the bridge of his nose, looking as if he had suddenly developed a headache of his own. “What are we going to do with her, Luke? The kid’s a full-time job.” He glanced up, peering between his fingers. “Was Carmichael mad?”

Luke’s smile was more of a scowl. “Uh, slightly. Says the next time she pulls a stunt like this, she’s on the next train to Podunk.” His lips pulled into a dry smile. “Along with me.” He sighed and rose to his feet. “Blast it, Parker, why can’t families be happily ever after?”

Parker stood, slipped his coat off his chair, and put it on. “I don’t know, Luke, but if they were, we’d be out of a job. Which, come to think of it, would be a pretty good thing. I’d probably be a priest in some cushy confessional, and you’d be only who knows what.”

Luke exhaled. “Yeah. You got any aspirin? I feel a killer headache coming on.”

Parker bent and pulled a bottle from his drawer. He handed it to Luke, then glanced at his watch. “Gotta go. Carmichael’s expecting me at four-thirty. I hate these late meetings – I think he does it just to get on our nerves. I guess he knows you’re not coming?”

“Yeah, he knows.” Luke emptied two pills in his hand and shot them to the back of his throat. He swallowed like it was candy. “I have a couple of headaches I gotta deal with. First the one in my skull, then the one on the streets.”

Parker grimaced. “How do you do that without water, anyway?”

Luke tossed the bottle on the desk and headed for the door. “Practice, Parker,” he said with a pained smile over his shoulder. “Compliments of a little girl who thinks she’s tougher than me.” He opened the door and strode into the main office area with Parker close behind. Betty jumped up to follow, notebook in hand.

Luke stopped dead in his tracks, peering at Betty. “Where are you going?”

She blinked. “To the board meeting upstairs. Carmichael wants me to take notes.”

“But I need her here, Parker, in case Gabe shows up. It’s just a preliminary meeting, right, so we don’t embarrass him in the real thing next week? Why does he need Betty?”

Parker moved on past, beating Luke to the door. “Because he likes to look at her legs, McGee, and we both know it.” He looked over his shoulder, hand on the knob and brow cocked high. “You gonna be the one to tell the senior partner and supervisor no?”

Luke mumbled under his breath and glanced at Bobbie Sue with hope in his eyes.

“Oh-oh, Boss, don’t look at me.” She reached for her purse in the lowest drawer and then lumbered to her feet, slamming it closed again with the toe of her shoe. “I’m already late, and there’s no tellin’ what shape that poor ol’ house of mine’ll be in.” She tucked her purse under her arm and sidled past Luke with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, but my darlin’s are bakin’ me a cake tonight, and I sure ain’t lookin’ to have my kitchen burn down. See y’all Monday, ya hear?”

“Make ’em do the dishes,” Parker called, watching Bobbie Sue hurry down the hall.

With a faint smile on her lips, Betty gracefully scooted around Luke, allowing a sympathetic pat on his shoulder as she passed. “Don’t worry, Luke. Katie will be here till five, and then I’ll be back as soon as the meeting ends, okay?”

“I can stay till Betty returns,” Katie offered from the back of the office.

Relief eased the stress in Luke’s face. He turned to give Katie a near-painless grin. “Bless you, Katie, you’re an angel. You sure you don’t mind?”

Katie’s mouth quirked into a smile. “Goodness, that may well be the first time I’ve ever been called that, but yes, I can stay as late as you like. Due to my father’s warped sense of discipline, I have no other plans this weekend, if you recall.”

He smiled. “Thanks. If these two are still in the meeting, then I should be back no later than six. And if a bossy, obnoxious runaway shows up and tries to push you around, hogtie her in a chair and gag her if you have to, but don’t let her go, okay?” Katie slanted a sheet of paper into her typewriter and gave the platen a spin. “You bet. Thanks to you, I have a wealth of experience in dealing with both bossy and obnoxious, not to mention enough adoption forms to keep me busy until the middle of next week . . .
sir
.”

A second grin surfaced on Luke’s lips in spite of the nagging headache. “Glad I could be of service, Miss O’Connor. Her name is Gabriella Dawn Smith, but she goes by Gabe – don’t let her buffalo you.” He turned and pinched Betty on the cheek with a wink, then followed them both out the door. He gave Betty a hard stare. “And you – don’t sit on Carmichael’s side of the table, you hear?”

Katie smiled and released a pent-up breath as soon as she heard the door click. She spun her chair around to peek out the window, scooting back a smidge when Luke appeared on the street below. The heat of the day obviously was taking its toll despite his best intentions, because she saw him shed the jacket and sling it over his shoulder before rolling up his sleeves. He rounded the corner, and Katie slouched back in her chair with a frown. He really was a decent sort, she supposed, but it galled her all the same. It just wasn’t fair that such a little weasel had become such an annoyingly handsome man.

With an abrupt shove against the windowsill, she spun around and adjusted the form in her typewriter before opening the first file at her side. She squinted to make out the scrawl of Luke’s notes, then poised her fingers over the keys, suddenly seeing his face in her mind’s eye. She took a deep breath. She could handle this. It was just a bothersome complication and nothing more. One that required a little more finesse on her part, to be sure, but not impossible. She would simply keep her distance and rein in these irksome feelings at the same time. She sharpened her focus and began to type, forcing her mind to dwell only on the facts she needed to record.

An hour later, she was halfway through the stack and totally absorbed when she heard a quiet squeak at the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a blur of navy blue shoot into Luke’s office. Katie caught her breath and slowly rose to make her way to his door, careful to close it again after she stepped inside. She scanned the crowded office, past the antiquated file cabinets hugging the wall and over to the other side of the room where a coat rack loomed, bedecked by some battered-looking boxing gloves. Next to it stood a table stacked high with boxes above and below, some filled with files, others bulging with footballs, basketballs, baseballs, gloves, and bats. Her gaze returned to the large oak desk in front of the windows, its heavy wooden base the perfect place for an orphan to hide. Katie strolled over to Luke’s chair and settled in, crossing her legs and folding her arms. She fought a smile and peered under the desk, suddenly eye-to-eye with a grimy ragamuffin all balled up in a frown.

Katie arched a brow. “Excuse me, but do you have an appointment?”

The frown deepened into a scowl. “Ain’t you got nothin’ better to do than spy?”

Katie pursed her lips and narrowed her gaze. “Nope, it’s what I get paid to do.” Her mouth crooked up. “That is, if I get paid.”

“I ain’t comin’ out,” the ragamuffin threatened, eyes squinted even harder than Katie’s.

“Suit yourself,” Katie said with nonchalance. She rose and strode out the door, returning a few moments later with a half-eaten platter of Bobbie Sue’s birthday cookies and two coffee cups. She set everything on the desk and selected a nice, fat cookie. With a contented sigh, she leaned back and took a bite, closing her eyes while emitting a soft moan. “Sweet saints in heaven . . . if I say so myself, these are some of the best I’ve ever made. Just the right touch of vanilla, you know? And chocolate-fudge icing that literally melts on your tongue.” She popped the rest of the cookie in her mouth and sucked the chocolate off her finger.

“You tryin’ to bribe me, lady?” The tone was hard and brittle, unlike Katie’s cookies, which were soft and moist.

With a satisfying swipe of her tongue, Katie licked a touch of frosting from her lips. “Nope, I can see you’re quite comfortable under that desk, knees bunched to your chin.”

Dark, almond-shaped eyes glared back, half lidded and glinting with ire.

Katie casually reached into the bottom drawer of Luke’s desk and pulled out one of the Nehis he kept in his stash, along with a bottle opener. She popped the lid off, took a long swig, and then wiped her mouth with the side of her hand. “Ah . . . now that hits the spot on a hot day.”