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  “What an asshole,” she muttered.

  “I’ll second that,” said a voice to her right, and she spun around with a shriek.

  Nate grinned. “Hi.”

  Lily closed her eyes briefly as the breath rushed out of her lungs then opened them to glare at him. “Don’t sneak up on me like that! You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  His eyebrow quirked at that, and he eyed the hand she had pressed to her breast. “You look like you’re in pretty good shape to me. I doubt a little startle’s going to do you any harm.”

  “It might,” she muttered, and frowned at him. He looked way too good in faded jeans and an old Harvard T-shirt. Too good for her peace of mind. He’d shaved too, and her fingertips itched to stroke over the smooth plane of his jaw.

  That surprisingly strong urge snapped her back into focus. She straightened and pulled her professionalism around her like a cloak of armor. “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. MacIntyre?”

  He grinned, a flash of teeth and dimples that might’ve made a lesser woman’s knees go weak. She locked hers just in case.

  “That’s a loaded question if I’ve ever heard one, Ms. Michaels.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope. “But as it happens, I’m just dropping this off.”

  She automatically held out a hand, noting it hadn’t been sealed. “What is it?”

  “The lease.”

  “The lease.” She blinked at him. “I thought you were going to email it to me.”

  He shrugged. “This was easy enough. And now you won’t have to send it back to me.”

  “What, you think I’m just going to sign it right now and hand it back?” She choked back the bark of laughter. “I need time to read it, go over the details.”

  “Any reason you can’t do that right now?”

  “I’m at work.”

  He looked around at the deserted lobby. “And you’re so busy.”

  She huffed out a breath and pulled the papers out of the envelope. “I hope you don’t think I’m going to rush through this just because you’re waiting.”

  “I don’t.”

  “I’m going to read every word,” she warned.

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he assured her, and leaned against the counter as if he had all the time in the world.

  Lily tamped down the spurt of annoyance and turned her attention to the lease.

  Reading every word took less than two minutes. “This is it?” she asked, looking up.

  “Should there be more?” he asked. “It’s got amount of rent and security deposit, length of lease. What else do we need?”

  “A lot,” she retorted. “What about a termination clause?”

  He looked thoughtful. “If you need to get out of the lease early, just give me thirty days’ notice.”

  She picked up a pen and made a notation in the blank bottom half of page two. “What if you want to terminate the lease early?”

  He shook his head and looked absurdly confident. “I won’t.”

  “Okay,” she muttered, and made another note. “Utilities.”

  “All paid. What?” he asked when her head snapped up.

  “All paid?”

  He shrugged. “Everything’s tied into the workspace on the first floor, and I didn’t feel like putting in another meter and hassling with the city over it. I did put in a phone line, so if you need a land line you can get that hooked up.”

  “I usually just use my cell phone, but I’ll need a land line for internet access,” she began then stopped when he shook his head. “I won’t need a land line for internet access?”

  He shrugged again. “Not unless you need a proprietary line or something. I’ve got a secure wireless connection set up, you’re welcome to tap into that.”

  “Cable TV?”

  “Satellite,” he said. “I’ve already got an extra receiver.”

  She put down her pen. “So let me get this straight. You’re including water, electric, internet access and satellite television in the six-hundred-dollar-a-month rent.”

  “And gas.”

  “Gas.”

  He nodded. “The stove is gas, so is the heat, it’s more efficient. And trash removal.”

  “Okay, I just have to ask. Are you on some kind of medication?”

  “No.”

  “Have you recently undergone a frontal lobotomy or are suffering from some incurable disease that robs you of logical thought?”

  He chuckled. “No.”

  She threw up her hands. “Then what’s the deal? You could get three times that in rent for the apartment, and you know it. Now you’re including utilities? Something’s wrong with the place. It’s haunted, right?”

  “Not that I know of. Are you always this suspicious?” he asked curiously.

  “It’s been my experience that when something looks too good to be true, it usually is.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough. But in this case, it doesn’t apply.”

  She picked up the pen again, running it through her fingers as she considered him. “Tell me why.”

  He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I built the apartment on a dare.”

  “You built it?” she asked. He nodded, and she looked at him with amazement. That gorgeous place, he’d built it himself. Then the second part of his statement hit her.

  “What do you mean, on a dare?”

  Nate shifted his weight, leaning his elbows on the reception desk as he faced her fully. “Last year I had about a six-month spell where I didn’t have any projects pending, and I was going stir crazy. One of my friends knew I’d always planned to do something with the top half of the carriage house, turn it into an apartment, and in a desperate attempt to get me to stop calling him to do something at midnight, bet me I couldn’t do all the work myself.”

  “So technically, you built it on a bet,” she said, and he grinned.

  “Yeah. Anyway, somewhere in the middle of it I realized I had no need for the apartment. The studio I get plenty of use out of, but…I could use it as a guest house, but my family all lives in town, and when my agent comes to visit, he actually stays at this hotel. So I don’t have a need for a guest house either.” He shrugged, a move she was coming to think of as his signature gesture. “And since I don’t need the rental income, I figured it would just add resale value to the property and sit empty.”

  “But you decided to rent it out for pennies instead?”

  He laughed, a low, rough sound that forced her to lock her knees again. “My agent threw such a fit when he found out what I was doing. He was terrified I’d hurt my hands, and in turn, his twenty percent.”

  “Sounds charming,” she said dryly.

  “Frank’s okay,” he said. “He’s just very focused on business. Anyway, he insisted since I’d jeopardized my livelihood for the sake of a bet, I get something out of it. So I promised him I’d rent it out.”

  “For pennies,” she repeated, and shook her head. “Fine by me.” She scribbled on the bottom of the lease for a few moments, the only sound in the hushed lobby the scratch of her pen over the paper. She shoved the pages at him, along with the pen. “Initial each of those,” she said, pointing to the notes she’d made at the bottom, outlining the new provisions. She watched as he added his initials next to hers, took the pages back and added her signature to them.

  “Your turn,” she said, and passed them back again. As soon as he’d finished signing, she gathered them up again. “Be right back,” she promised, and turned back into the office.

  She picked up the phone, punching in Charles’ number as she fed the pages through the copy machine. “Charles, it’s Lil.”

  “What’s up, doll?”

  “I’m signing the lease on the apartment on Ivy, but listen to this.” She quickly outlined the provisions they’d just agreed on. “Do you think that’s crazy?”

  “Hell yes it’s crazy. And you’re crazy if you don’t jump all over it with both feet!”

  “I j
ust don’t want to wind up screwed on this deal.”

  “There’s a double entendre just begging to be played on there, but I’m going to leave it alone,” Charles said. “Look, you’ve got a lease, you’re the one with the out clause, and you won’t find a better deal unless you can time travel back to the seventies. If you don’t take it, I will.”

  “I’m taking it,” she assured him. “And you’re helping me move on Wednesday.”

  “The price of friendship,” he said easily. “Maybe Tall, Dark and Sexy will be working in the yard without a shirt and it’ll all be worth it.”

  “Hope springs,” she said dryly, as though the thought didn’t tingle her toes one bit, and hung up.

  When she stepped back out into the desk area, he was lounging against the desk much as she’d left him, his body angled to the side so he could see into the tea room to the left of the lobby. His mouth was quirked in obvious amusement, and curious to see what he found so entertaining, she craned her head to look.

  “Ah. I see the debs have returned from their spa day.”

  He flicked a glance at her. “Debs?”

  “Debutantes,” she elaborated, “from Savannah, Georgia. It’s their fifteen-year reunion.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  She shook her head and grinned as a round of giggles broke out in the tea room. “Nope. They’ve been here since Wednesday afternoon, flirting with the waiters and driving housekeeping insane.”

  He looked a little shell-shocked at the thought. “What are a bunch of Southern-belle debutantes doing at a hotel in the foothills of the Rockies?”

  “They said they wanted to be able to cut loose away from their mamas and their husbands.” Lily winced as one particularly enthusiastic redhead took a handful of a waiter’s tush. She looked over at Nate’s chuckle. “Thankfully,” she said dryly, “they’re excellent tippers.”

  He turned, still chuckling. He nodded at the papers in her hands. “Are we all set?”

  “Yeah, we’re all set.” She handed the papers over, watching him fold them casually and tuck them back into his hip pocket. She resisted the urge to pull them back out and straighten the creases.

  He dug into his front pocket and pulled out a key ring. “Keys,” he told her. “The outside door and your front door are keyed differently, but this is a master that will get you into both. Also, there’s a storage area you can use if you need to, the smaller key fits the padlock on that.”

  She blinked at the keys in her hand. “This is a Hooters keychain.”

  “Yeah. The locksmith gave it to me for free.”

  “You’re giving me my keys on a Hooters keychain.”

  His mouth began to curve into a grin. “I’ve got a Betty Paige one, if you’d prefer.”

  “I would, as a matter of fact,” she muttered. “But I’ll just put them on my plain old silver key chain.”

  The grin got bigger. “Whatever works, honey.” He watched her slide the keys off the loop, accepting the offending keychain when she held it out.

  “So.” She cleared her throat, suddenly at a loss for conversation. “Moving in Wednesday is okay?”

  Nate gave the keychain a little toss. “Wednesday’s fine. Are you moving yourself?”

  “Hmm? Oh. No,” she said. “My friend’s going to help me. Charles. You met him the other day.”

  “Right, I remember. What kind of car do you drive?”

  Lily blinked. “Huh?”

  “Charles has the VW Bug, right? He’s the one who drove when you came by to see the apartment, so I just assumed.”

  “Yeah, the Bug is his,” she said, confused.

  “So what kind of a car do you drive?”

  “Why?” she asked, still confused.

  She couldn’t say why, but she got the impression he wanted to roll his eyes.

  “You’re not going to get a lot of furniture in the Bug, so I just wondered if you drove a truck or something. For moving your furniture.”

  “Ohhhh.” She gritted her teeth, feeling inane. “I drive a Civic, actually. Not much more room than the Bug. We’re going to rent a truck.”

  “Oh. That’s good.” He jingled the change in his pocket and suddenly looked as uncomfortable as she felt. “Well, I guess I’ll see you Wednesday then.”

  “You’ll be there?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  “I live there,” he reminded her, and she gritted her teeth again.

  “I meant to ask if you’d be there during the day. I assumed you’d have to work or something.”

  “I pretty much make my own hours,” he told her. “I’ll be around all day.”

  “Oh. Okay then, I guess I’ll see you Wednesday.”

  “Wednesday,” he repeated, and with a wink turned to the door.

  She held on to her stiff smile until he’d walked out the door. As soon as he was out of sight, her knees went limp as noodles and she let herself drop to a crouch behind the reception desk, covering her face with her hands.

  “Oh my God,” she muttered. “I am such a dork.”

  “Ms. Michaels?”

  She looked up to find Jason hovering over her, looking poised to call for an ambulance. “Hi, Jason.”

  “You all right, Ms. Michaels?”

  “I’m fine, Jason.” She gave him a sickly smile. “I’m just contemplating my life.”

  “Oh.” Jason looked as though he didn’t quite know what to do with that information and shifted uncomfortably. “Is there anything I can do?”

  She sighed and pushed herself to her feet. “No, but thanks. I’m going to work in the office for a while. Call me if you need help with the debs.”

  “Okay,” he said, looking uncertain, and she escaped into the office before he could ask any more questions.

  Lily sat down at the desk with the serious intention of finishing the schedule. But the lines kept blurring, and when she realized she’d scheduled the housekeeping supervisor for a shift in the kitchen, she gave up and simply laid her head on the desk.

  When the phone rang, she dragged the receiver over. “Pavillion Hotel, Lily speaking.”

  “Lil, hi!” Bridget’s voice rang out, bright and cheerful.

  Lily sighed with relief—a distraction! “Hi, honey, how’s Hawaii?”

  “Oh God, Lil, it’s just amazing. The weather is gorgeous, the beaches are gorgeous, the men are gorgeous, the hotel is—”

  “Gorgeous,” Lily finished dryly, and despite her own irritation found herself smiling at the enthusiasm in her friend’s voice.

  “So gorgeous,” Bridget gushed. “I’m calling you from my balcony, which has a Jacuzzi, by the way. And the spa here! I think the Pavillion’s is actually better, but this one gets extra points because it’s in Hawaii.”

  “Can’t beat that,” Lily agreed. She sat up and leaned back in the chair. “So what’s up?”

  “Nothing, really. I just wanted to say hi, find out how the apartment hunting is going. Charles said that place in the flier was pretty cool?”

  “Yeah, it’s great,” Lily told her. “Beautiful, lots of light, great location.”

  “That’s great! Did you sign a lease?”

  “Uh, yeah. Today, actually.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Okay, big fat liar voice.”

  Lily blinked. “Huh?”

  “Your voice is doing that thing, that thing you do when you lie.”

  That was the trouble with best friends, they could always see right through the bullshit. Lily kicked the desk. “Is not,” she muttered.

  “Oh, it so is,” Bridget said. “What’s wrong with the apartment?”

  Lily sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with the apartment.”

  “Lily Ann…” Bridget began, and Lily had to laugh at the use of her middle name.

  “No really, the apartment’s perfect. Hardwood floors, built-in bookshelves, a garden tub.”

  “Sounds like a dream,” Bridget agreed. “Okay,
so if it isn’t the apartment, what is it?”

  “Nothing,” Lily insisted then blinked when her friend made a buzzing noise in her ear.

  “So sorry, Big Fat Liar, that was the wrong answer. Try again!”

  “Agh! I hate when you do the game-show-buzzer noise!”

  “That’s because you have no appreciation for the subtle genius that is the game show. Quit lying and tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Jeez.” She gave the desk another kick then frowned at the new scuff on her shoe. “Dammit.”

  “Lily, you better tell me what’s going on or I’m calling Charles to come over there—”

  “Oh Christ, fine,” Lily hissed, and rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “It’s the landlord.”

  “The landlord?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about the landlord?” Bridget’s voice had gone from threatening to confused. “What, did he make a pass or something?”

  “No,” Lily said. Then mumbled, “I wish.”

  She should’ve known better.

  “What did you say?”

  She tried to brazen it out. “Nothing.”

  “Big Fat—”

  “Liar, I know.” Lily sighed. “I said no, he didn’t make a pass. I wish.”

  “Ooh, you like this guy. Is he cute?”

  Even though she knew the shrug couldn’t be seen over the phone, she did it anyway. It made her feel convincingly nonchalant. “He’s all right, I guess.”

  “Big Fat—”

  “Jesus, all right! He’s gorgeous and sexy, and I want to trip him and beat him to the ground and just bite him. All over. Satisfied?”

  Bridget’s giggle came over the line loud and clear. “Not as much as you’re going to be, apparently. Is he into you?”

  “I have no idea. You know how bad I am at judging that kind of thing.”

  “Yeah, you suck at that.”

  “Thank you, oh supportive best friend.”

  Bridget ignored the sarcasm. “What do you know about him?”

  “I know he’s some kind of a musician, and he’s rude and scruffy and unorganized.”

  Used to Lily’s somewhat exacting standards when it came to manners and organization, Bridget skipped over the assessment of Nate’s personality. “What kind of a musician, like a rock star?”