The Bargain (8 page)

She would
make
an opportunity instead of waiting around for one, Shannon thought.

So without allowing herself time to potentially back out, she got up from her desk and knocked on Drew’s door.

“Come in,” he called out.

“Hi,” she said as she opened the door, trying very hard to make her voice sound breezy and casual. Her mind latched onto the first thing that popped into it. “Just wanted to remind you about that benefit tomorrow night. See if you’re all set, or if you have any questions about your part in it. You know, schedule-wise or anything.”

“No, no,” he answered, glancing up from some paperwork on his desk and looking a little surprised. “I’m ready to go. Thank you.”

“Okay, just checking.” She stood in the open doorway, wrestling with opening lines.

“Was there something else?”

“I was … I was just wondering about something.”

“Yes?”

“It’s about the youth center. Last week, you seemed … well, I thought maybe you seemed a little concerned about it.”

“Ah. That.” He dropped the paper he was holding onto the desk and leaned back in his chair. “It was on my mind, yes.”

“Are you having second thoughts?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it has been in your family for a long time, hasn’t it? Anyone could understand why it might be hard to give it up.”

For a moment, he didn’t answer her, and she wondered if she had inadvertently offended him somehow. But then he shook his head and smiled a half-hearted smile. “The past is in the past. I prefer to focus on the future.”

“Sure, but — ” Shannon took two steps forward into the room and caught the toe of her shoe on a snag in the rug. She gasped and fell forward, catching herself on the edge of Drew’s desk just as he started to rise to help her. “Sorry,” she mumbled, wishing the floor would open up beneath her and swallow her whole. “New shoes.”

“Of course,” he said politely, offering her a hand as she pulled herself upright.

So much for cool and confident. The phone on her desk rang, and she was grateful for the chance to escape. “I’d better, you know … ” She gestured toward the ringing phone.

“Absolutely. Just — take it slowly.” He flashed her a quick smile and bent over his papers again.

Shannon stepped carefully out of the room, covering her face with one hand as soon as the door was shut. Smooth as silk, Shannon, she thought sarcastically. Kicking the offending shoes off and under her desk, she answered the phone.

There was no more talk about the youth center that day. Drew had a late lunch with business colleagues, the phone kept ringing, and Shannon found making eye contact with Drew difficult anyway after the fall in his office. At least she could honestly say to Michael that she had introduced the topic.

“Have fun on your date tonight,” Clarissa told her with a friendly wave as Shannon left at the end of the day.

And speaking of honesty …

Technically, she had said only that she was meeting someone, right? So as long as she actually met with somebody, it wasn’t a total lie. And since she promised Michael she would keep him informed, dropping by his motel long enough to let him know the ball was rolling — albeit slowly — would fit the bill just fine. She searched her memory and came up with the name of his motel. The Piedmont Place. She would swing by on her way home.

• • •

A knock on his door startled Michael out of his thoughts, which was just as well. They weren’t very happy thoughts. He put the picture of his parents he had been looking at in the drawer of the nightstand and went to answer the knock.

“Shannon,” he greeted her with surprise, and he let his gaze travel up the full length of her. A tight skirt and body-skimming shirt confirmed what he had suspected the other day: Nice legs, nice hips — nice everything, really. His eyes finally met hers. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi,” she said, sounding somewhat wilted. “I should have called first. Sorry.”

“No, it’s not a problem. I’m just surprised.” He opened the door wider and stepped back to let her enter. “Come on in.”

“Boy, you weren’t kidding about this place being a dive, were you?” she commented as she stepped inside the room with a wary look around. Faded wallpaper was beginning to peel in places, and there was precious little furniture in the room. What little there was didn’t match.

“Yeah, it’s old. But it’s clean, if you’re wondering about whether or not to sit down.” He waved an inviting hand at the lone chair in the room, a vinyl-covered lump with stuffing poking free in places, and she sat down in it. “Been shopping, have you?”

She slipped off her shoes, wincing as she did so. “A little, yes.”

“Looks good on you.”

“Too bad it doesn’t feel better. I’ll take jeans over this kind of stuff any day, and my feet are killing me.”

Michael sat down on the edge of the bed nearest to her. “Rough day at the office, dear?”

She rubbed one stocking-clad foot with the other. “You could say that.”

He caught himself staring at her legs and quickly looked back up again before she could notice. “I could rub your feet for you.”

Most women he offered foot rubs to seemed pleased. Shannon only looked alarmed, and maybe a little suspicious. “No, thank you. You don’t have to brownnose, you know. I’ve already agreed to help you.”

“I like to hedge my bets, but suit yourself. I’d offer you a stiff drink, but everything around here comes out of a vending machine.” He started to rise from the bed. “But if you want a soda — ”

“No, that’s okay. I didn’t drop by for a drink. I’m basically here so you can make an honest woman out of me.”

“Are you proposing? I think you’re supposed to be on one knee.”

“Ha, ha. I panicked at work and blurted out something about meeting someone after hours. Now that I’m here, it’s not technically a lie, see?”

“I feel so used.”

“But I also came by to tell you I did bring up the youth center with Drew. It’s not much yet, but it’s a start.”

She had his full attention. “And?”

“And … that’s pretty much it. He doesn’t seem completely thrilled with giving up the family home, but he insists he’s fine with it.”

“You’re not giving up already, are you?” Michael asked quickly. “I mean — ”

“No, no,” she assured him. “I just didn’t get to talk to him much today.” Her cheeks blossomed faintly.

Shannon Mahoney would make a lousy poker player, he thought to himself at the telltale color in her face. “Uh, oh. Something happened, didn’t it?”

Sighing, she played with the hem of her skirt and shrugged.

“What? He didn’t like your shiny new clothes? Come on, tell me.”

“I tripped and fell on his desk,” she admitted finally.

He tried not to smile, but it was a struggle. She looked so glum right now, he didn’t think she’d appreciate being told that there was something kind of appealing about her awkwardness. “I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think.”

“I
fell
on his
desk
.”

“Could have been worse. You could have tripped and fallen in his lap.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Actually, that might have been better.”

She gave him a dark look. “This isn’t funny.”

He put on his most somber and sympathetic expression. “Sorry.”

“Liar.” Shannon slumped further back into the sorry excuse for a chair. “I just get so nervous around him that I have trouble stringing more than three words together, and I do stupid things.”

“You don’t seem to have that trouble with me,” Michael pointed out.

“That’s because I don’t like you,” she replied absently.

“Gee, thanks.”

She looked startled. “No — I mean I’m not trying to impress you. Oh, you know what I mean.”

“So does that kind of thing happen a lot with you?”

“What kind of thing?”

“Getting nervous around men.”

“Oh. Maybe.” She averted her eyes, appearing suddenly interested in the view outside his window. Since that view consisted primarily of a row of trashcans and graffiti, he wasn’t fooled.

He eyed her speculatively. “Look, if I say something, do you promise not to hurt me?”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she turned back to him. “No.”

“Then I’ll have to chance it. You strike me as a woman who hasn’t had a whole lot of experience with men. Am I right?”

Her mouth dropped open. “I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t mean it as any kind of insult. You’re a good-looking woman, and you could certainly have an active dating life if you wanted, but I’m guessing your nerves have gotten in the way of that. If I’m wrong, say so.”

The fact that she didn’t correct him, combined with the fact she didn’t try to throw anything at him made him think he had hit it on the nose. But she did look a little embarrassed, and possibly even hurt, and he immediately felt like the world’s biggest jerk.

He hastened to fix things. “Hey, I’m serious. There’s nothing wrong with you at all except for maybe a little social anxiety. Hell, I’ve been checking out your legs ever since you got here, and I would be happy to ogle you further if that’s what it takes to convince you.”

“That’s so thoughtful of you.” But a flicker of dry humor had replaced the mortified look in her eyes.

“The point I was trying to make was that if you had a little more experience with men, you probably wouldn’t be so nervous around them. Take me, for example. I’ve had plenty of experience with women by now, and I don’t even remember the last time I was nervous around one.”

“Is this supposed to help me somehow, or did you just want to take a minute to boast about what a stud you are?”

“Some other day maybe. I really don’t think we’d have the time it would take right now.” He grinned as she rolled her eyes. Yes, she was feeling better. “Listen, I have an idea.”

“Why am I suddenly nervous?”

“Hey, nobody said learning how to interact with the opposite sex would be easy. So you don’t have much experience with men. You need to start racking some up now, the sooner the better.”

Her eyes widened. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

“I’m not suggesting you start bed-hopping, so you can relax your grip on that chair before you snap its arms off. Just go up and talk to some guy on the street. Strike up a conversation at the bus stop. Don’t shrink away next time a man stands close to you or brushes your hand accidentally in the elevator.”

“I don’t shrink!”

“Really?” He held his hand out. “Here. Give me your foot.”

She drew back. “What? Why?”

“See? Shrinking.”

“I wasn’t — ” Shannon paused. “Okay, so maybe I was. Why do you want my foot?”

“We’re going to do a little social experiment.”

“With my foot?” she asked, incredulous.

“I’m renewing my offer of a free foot massage. Nothing better than free.”

The blush was back. “I don’t think so.”

Michael raised his eyebrows. “Because it involves physical contact? It’s just a foot massage. Your feet, my hands. That’s all.”

Despite his assurances, she looked doubtful. Either she was even more inexperienced with men than he originally imagined, or else she was picking up on some kind of big bad wolf vibe he didn’t realize he’d been sending out. He softened his voice just in case it was the latter.

“Sweetheart, if you get nervous with me, a man — and I quote — you don’t even like, how do you expect to get near a man you
do
like without turning into a quivering mass of jelly? I’m trying to help you here. Just consider this practice.”

After a long hesitation, Shannon finally, daintily, edged one foot toward him.

He waited patiently for her to place her foot in his hand instead of taking it himself, suspecting it might only make her more skittish. It was a bit like coaxing a wild animal to come to him, and any sudden movements could scare her away. When she tentatively gave her foot to him, he began to knead its arch very lightly with his fingers.

Her entire leg was rigid with tension.

“Relax. I promise I won’t bite,” he assured her. “Unless, of course, you’re into that sort of thing.”

She threw him a look.

He gave her a slow spreading smile, and he thought just maybe she almost let herself return it. “Scout’s honor, I will be a perfect gentleman. I’m just trying to make a point.”

“Which is?” she asked, warily watching his hands move over her foot.

“That there are plenty of ways to enjoy being around a man without feeling like you’re obligated somehow to fall into bed with him. So you can let yourself have a little fun now and then without having to cross any lines you don’t want to cross. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Shannon nodded but kept her gaze on his hands instead of looking directly at him, and her shyness made Michael feel a surge of … what exactly? Protectiveness? He gave her foot a reassuring sort of squeeze and pressed his fingers deeper into the underside of her sole.

It was hardly one of the most intimate things he had ever done with a woman, but somehow the fact he knew this was no small thing for her made it more of a big deal for him, too. He was careful not to let his hands drift any higher than her ankle even though the lines of her calf were sleek and inviting. It was, in fact, the most platonic foot rub he had ever given a woman, and yet his gut seemed to be tightening on him unexpectedly. Maybe he
was
turning into the big bad wolf. “See? Not so bad, is it?” he asked with forced casualness.

She made a sound that was part pleasure and part surprise as he applied deeper pressure, and his gut tightened further. “That actually feels really good,” she admitted. “I think you’ve done this before.”

“A few times.” He felt the tension in her muscles gradually relax beneath his fingers, and he felt absurdly pleased with himself.

Leaning back in the chair, she placed her other foot on his jean-clad thigh.

Michael started to grin, and he switched feet. “Very subtle.”

“I learned it from my dog. Hey, you said we should practice, and I’m trying to be cooperative.” She closed her eyes and sighed as his fingers found a small knot of tension. “Yeah, this is … ooo … really not so bad. Can we practice this every day?”