Now it was his turn to run his fingers through his mop. She was right; it was a little long. “Sure, that would be great. Thanks.”
He turned to go, but Felicity said, “Oh, hey, listen. I need to leave at five o’clock again.”
She had every right to leave at five. But when he worked late, it was always nice to know she was there, too. Often, it would just be the two of them in the office until late and she’d buzz him and say, “Austin, go home. The work will be here tomorrow.”
It’s not that he needed her to remind him—well, maybe he did. He liked the office better than home. What was he going to do if she left?
“Do you have something with school going on?” he asked, and added before she could answer, “Be sure to let me know the date of your graduation so I get it on my calendar.”
“I’ve already put it on your calendar. And no, tonight is not about school. I have a date.”
A date? Felicity dates?
That was another one of those obtuse questions that would send her into smart-aleck mode. Why wouldn’t Felicity date? She was beautiful and smart and she had a smokin’ hot bod, curves in all the right places. Okay, that was definitely the kind of comment that would send her down the hall to HR faster than he could tell her he hadn’t meant anything offensive by it. It was just a fact—like the honey-gold highlights in her hair and the pink stain on her bee-stung lips.
Why was he thinking about this now? And when did Felicity have time to date when she was always working late with him?
“Who’s the lucky guy?” he asked, trying not to look at her lips.
“It’s a guy named Kevin Clooney. My friend Maia introduced us. We hung out on Saturday.”
“Kevin Clooney?” he asked. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
“You’re probably thinking George Clooney, the actor. No relation.”
No. That wasn’t what he was thinking, but—
“You’ll get to meet him because he’s picking me up at the office.”
“Don’t you think you should meet him out the first few dates? You don’t know this guy. He could be some kind of sociopath.”
She squinted at him. “Austin, I thought him picking me up from work was gentlemanly. He’s not a sociopath. He’s been a client of my neighbor Maia’s for years.”
“Yeah, but you never know. You can’t be too careful these days.”
He should’ve been more careful when his ex-wife Kelly swooped into his life. He’d been duped. Such an easy mark. He didn’t want Felicity to rush into anything and find herself in a bad situation.
She was smiling at him now. “Thank you for caring.”
He grunted. “Of course.”
I care about you. I’ll rip the SOB’s head off if he doesn’t treat you right.
Felicity bit her bottom lip, which made him look at her mouth again. Thank God she was studying her computer screen, so she didn’t see him looking.
Kevin Clooney.
What a dumb name.
So that’s why she was all dressed up and wearing that pink lip stuff today.
“Hey, listen. Can you stay late tomorrow night and maybe Wednesday, too? We need to talk about the charity ball.”
“Sure. That’s not a problem.”
“Good. Thanks.”
Maybe they’d need to work through the weekend, too.
He turned away on a jerky motion that made his coffee slosh and splash onto his crisp white button-down.
He growled and muttered a string of expletives under his breath.
“I heard that, potty mouth,” Felicity said. “What did you do?”
“I spilled my damn coffee down the front of my shirt and I don’t have a spare in my office. I used the last one Thursday before the McCutcheon meeting.”
Cursing again, he frowned down at the stain. He should’ve put his suit coat on when he got out of his car.
What a great way to start the day.
“Now, I have to have to go home and change. I have a meeting at nine and I look like a freaking bum.”
“No, you don’t,” Felicity said. “I’ll go pick up your dry cleaning when they open at eight. You have some white shirts in that order.”
“I do?” he said, the edges of his bad mood lifting. “Thanks. So, uh—you’re not going to let this guy take you home, are you?”