blasted makeup won't last through the night and into another day.
Maybe she should treat this like any other incident in her life and take the bull by the horns. Call Austin and see if he wanted to…what? After last night, even asking him to go for a run might sound suggestive. A noon date, with its connotations, was clearly out of the question.
She marched back into her office, slumped in her chair, and ground her teeth. Okay, so she couldn't count on Gordon to help. How else could she arrange for an accidental meeting? Maybe she could kind of wander through the area restaurants at lunch, and if she saw him eating, he might ask her to join him. If he didn't—and he might not after the rude way she'd acted the night before—well, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it. No point inventing problems before they arose.
*~*~*
Half an hour later Bailey stood in front of the counter at a deli down the street from her office, ready to give up her quest. She looked from the prepared sandwiches, squashed in their cellophane wrappers, to her reflection in the mirror behind the counter. The sandwiches pretty much reflected the way she looked and felt, except they were cool in their refrigerated case and she couldn't recall ever having been hotter.
She'd never before realized there were so many places to eat within walking distance of the office, and not a sign of Austin in any of them. Just as well, she thought, staring back at the creature in the mirror, the one with a shiny, flushed face, flattened hair, and raccoon eyes.
"Chicken salad sandwich," she told the clerk as he approached her. Accepting the shapeless lump, she gave the man a ten-dollar bill.
"Well, hello."
Bailey jumped at the sound of the voice behind her and whirled to see Austin. He looked cool and crisp in his white, short sleeved shirt, tie loose at his throat, jacket draped over his shoulder. She felt frumpy and disheveled.
"Hi, yourself. Out for a little lunch?" Great conversation, stupid, she berated herself. What else would he be doing in a deli at this time of day?
"Yes," he answered politely. "Care to join me?" They both looked down at the sandwich she was clutching so hard her fingers were making indentations.
"Your change, ma'am," the man behind the counter announced, extending a pudgy hand beside her face.
"Oh!" Distractedly she folded the dollar bills and the sandwich and dropped everything into her shoulder bag. Only when she saw the puzzled look on Austin's face as his gaze followed her actions did she realize what she'd done.
This wasn't going at all well. She had to get out of there. "Well, got to run," she stammered. "Nice to see you again."
Proud of herself for at least remembering her manners, she stretched her dry lips into a smile. In an attempt to maintain some semblance of poise, she wheeled away from him in a ballerina-type twirl, but somehow both feet ended up in the same spot. She staggered forward, caught her balance on a table, and race-walked toward the door, afraid to look back.
"Bailey!"
Austin's voice was the last thing she heard as she plunged out the door. The steamy heat slapped her in the face about the same time she realized her polite gesture was meaningless since she hadn't even replied to Austin's invitation. In addition to being a total klutz, she'd been unconscionably rude—again. She definitely had no business trying to play this boy-girl game. She'd best get on with the things she knew how to do or, at least, was capable of learning.
But even as she beat a retreat to the sanctuary of her office, an irritating thought niggled at her, a thought that she wasn't going to give up. Whether running, swimming, or making love, the way Austin set all her senses spinning, made her feel she'd just conquered Mount Everest, was enough to keep her trying to win at this game she knew nothing about.
*~*~*
The incessant ringing of the telephone finally broke into Bailey's concentration, and she realized it was the night number. She switched the "ring" selector on her phone to "off." She had better things to do than play receptionist.
"Why doesn't somebody answer the damn phone?"
Bailey started at the unexpected voice.
Gordon drooped in her doorway.
"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Did you fall asleep in the library?"
"I've been working. Are you aware that the phone has been ringing forever?" He leaned against the doorframe,