“There’s chicken marsala keeping warm in there,” Grandmillie said, waving her cane at the oven. “I ordered in from Vinny’s for dinner.”
“Bless you,” Chloe said, dropping her purse and jacket on the coffee table and leaning down to kiss her grandmother. “I’m sorry I haven’t been home much this week.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. You were needed at work.”
Grandmillie’s choice of words evoked her last exchange with Nathan, and Chloe felt a flush of desire and guilt. “Shall I open the Chianti?” The wine would help calm her whirring mind.
“TGIF!” Grandmillie said with a nod.
Chloe took her grandmother’s arm to help her up out of her recliner and thought how fragile the bones felt. Such a contrast to Nathan’s powerful forearm. She shoved that thought away.
As soon as she was on her feet, Grandmillie gently tugged her arm free of Chloe’s grip. “Got to keep my balance muscles strong,” she said, starting toward the dining table.
Chloe carried food and wine from the kitchen and attacked the delicious chicken with gusto. She had good reason to be ravenous.
Grandmillie let her take the edge off her hunger before asking, “Where did you work today?”
Chloe choked on the wine she’d just sipped. “Swallowed wrong,” she croaked before taking a gulp of water. “In Mr. Trainor’s home office. Turns out his penthouse has three floors, not two. You get to the office in a private elevator.”
“So that’s why you came home in the fancy car. I saw it out the window.”
Chloe had a hot flash at the memory of Nathan wanting to join her behind the privacy screen. All the way home she’d been picturing what they might do on the deep leather seat.
“How was Mr. Trainor feeling today?”
Thank goodness she hadn’t taken another drink of wine. “Much better. He wanted to go to Trainor Electronics, but his doctor threatened to quit if he did.” How different would her day have been if Cavill had given the okay for Nathan to return to work? Would the heat between them have flared up even there, or would it have remained at a simmer because they were in a real office? She had an erotic vision of Nathan making love to her on the conference table.
“But he got up and worked anyway.” Grandmillie snorted. “Typical man. More muscle than sense.”
“Exactly.” Chloe swallowed the last of her wine in a gulp and refilled her glass. “Shall we celebrate our windfall with a shopping trip to the mall tomorrow? I need a couple of nicer blouses if I’m going to keep working in the executive suite, and you’re due for a pretty new top too.”
“I’m not done with Mr. Trainor yet,” Grandmillie said. “So he wants you back on Monday.”
Needed her back on Monday, according to him.
“I knew if you got your foot in the door, they’d figure out how smart you are. Here’s to a permanent job offer.” Grandmillie lifted her wineglass.
Chloe clinked hers against it and drank without tasting the wine. She’d completely screwed up any prospect of staying at Trainor Electronics. Even if they offered her a position, how could she accept it now that she’d slept with the CEO?
“He has an excellent executive assistant. As soon as she recovers, I’ll be back on the reception desk.” Unless the receptionist had already recovered, in which case, Chloe would be at another company altogether. The thought dropped her into a trough of depression.
Until she remembered the wedding. Her spirits soared again. If nothing else, she’d have one more day with Nathan, even if they couldn’t do more than hold hands. Just feeling his long fingers wrapped around hers would be delicious. And she could brush her shoulder against his, and maybe their thighs would touch in the church pew. If the wedding was in a church. She frowned as she realized she knew very little about the upcoming event.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Grandmillie said. “I can see the gears turning behind those brown eyes of yours.”
Chloe tried to disarm her with a wry smile and a partial revelation. “It’s kind of weird, but Mr. Trainor hired me to go to a wedding with him next Saturday. It’s a family wedding, and he didn’t want to take a real date because tensions are running high.”
Grandmillie’s gaze felt like a laser on Chloe’s face. “A very sensible arrangement,” her grandmother finally said. “More people should do that.”
Chloe couldn’t believe she’d gotten off that easily. She let out her breath and stood up to clear the dishes. “You’re the best, Grandmillie.”
“Oh, I know that’s not the whole story, but you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
Chloe fled to the kitchen.
Two hours later she was pulling her cotton nightgown over her head when the cell phone buzzed on her bedside table. The screen said “Private Caller” and she almost swiped it into the dismiss side when a hopeful little voice in the back of her mind said, Telemarketers don’t call late Friday night. Answer it.
“Chloe, it’s Nathan. I wanted to wish you sweet dreams.”