“Not this one.”
Liza kissed him. Long and slow and deep. Their tongues tangled and his arms tightened around her.
“Good Lord,” she murmured when they eventually came up for air.
“You said it, darlin’.”
She plowed her fingers through his hair, loving the silky feeling of the strands again
st her skin. “So what’d you mean about me getting more than I bargained for?”
He shook his head. The hard set of his jaw told her he wasn’t sure what more he wanted to say on the subject, but he started out with, “Just that people in this town talk. And they just might—”
The ringing of her cell phone cut him off. Liza intended to ignore it, thinking it was likely her mother calling again. She hadn’t believed Liza when she’d said she was leaving town. No doubt she was calling now to have Liza pick up something from the dry cleaners on her way over for Saturday afternoon skinny lattes and biscotti. Not a tradition Liza relished, but it made up for her regular skipping of other social engagements at her mother’s during the week.
Climbing off Jack’s lap, she checked the caller ID to confirm her suspicion. She was wrong. The number told her it was someone calling from a McClellan-Piper extension. Her former employer contacting her on a Saturday. Liza wasn’t the least bit surprised.
“I need to take this,” she told Jack. “Sorry.”
She flipped the phone open and said, “This is Eliz—” She caught herself. Amending her greeting because she was determined to leave her previous self in New York where her Royal Stuffiness belonged, she simply said, “Hello?”
“Elizabeth, this is Judith Manning calling from Accounting.”
“Oh hi,” she said, picturing the statuesque brunette in her head.
Jack left the bed and she heard his bare feet on the hardwood floor as he padded into the bathroom, presumably giving her some privacy, because he had no idea who was on the other end of the line. But she didn’t have time to dwell on how her vagueness might be perceived by him.
“Working the weekend?” she asked Judith.
“Of course. Trying to get caught up on the past week before the next one begins.”
Liza knew the feeling. She had lived the same life as Judith for the past eight years.
“We’re all very disappointed to lose you,” her former colleague said in her thick New York accent.
“Thanks, Judith.” Oddly, Liza’s throat seized up so that she could say no more. Reality hit her hard. She was no longer director of Public Relations for the country’s largest industrial risk insurer.
Panic skittered through her at the thought of being unemployed. And, in the grand scheme of things, sans identity.
“I’ve just processed your last check,” Judith said. “I need to know where to send it.”
“Oh of course,” she mumbled.
Had she really just quit her job? Chucked it all and driven halfway across the country? Settled into a small lakeside cottage with no prospect of employment? No family? No friends?
Anxiety welled within her. Sure, she’d just had mind-blowing orgasms delivered by her idea of the Sexiest Man Alive, but still.
She was unemployed.
I have no job!
That had never been the case for Responsible, Dependable Elizabeth Brooks. Not since she was sixteen years old—an adult in her mother’s eyes. And saddled with all the responsibilities that went with the role. Even at that age.
Oh. My. God.
What had she been thinking when she’d resigned from McClellan-Piper?
“Elizabeth?” Judith prompted.