Page 32 of Whispers and Wildfire
“I agree she’s smart, but I take issue with sweet.”
“She is. She’s nice.”
I raised my eyebrows in disbelief.
“Fine, she’s… spicy nice.”
I tried to hold back a chuckle. Spicy nice. That was Melanie. “She’s probably personable around anyone else, but around me, she’s nothing but a spitfire.”
“And I’m sure you don’t do a thing to antagonize her.”
“She antagonizesme!” I placed a hand on my chest. “Why do you assume it’s my fault?”
“I’d bet money on it being mutual.”
I scowled. “Whatever. I’m not—”
The door opened, and I forgot what I was about to say. Melanie swept in, dressed in a dark gray suit jacket and skirt with bright red heels. Her hair was up in some kind of twist, and her lipstick matched her shoes.
I gaped at her. What was she doing there? And why was she dressed like that?
“Well, isn’t that perfect timing,” Annika said cheerfully.
“Did you know she was coming?” I asked.
“No.” Annika smiled and shouldered her purse. “But it looks like my work here is done.”
She hugged Melanie on her way out. Fantastic, my sister and my ex-girlfriend were friends again. As if that hadn’t been frustrating enough back in high school.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as the door shut behind Annika.
“Ooh, déjà vu. Is there a glitch in the matrix?”
“What?”
“You asked me that question in the bar the other night. Anyway, I’m here for my interview.”
My eyes swept up and down, taking her in, and a pulse of arousal burst through me. I didn’t want to notice the curve of her hips or the way her hairstyle showed the soft skin of her neck. I didn’t want to, but I did.
“Since when do you have an interview? I don’t remember calling you and asking you to come in.”
“You didn’t, but I figured I should be proactive in case you decided to be stubborn and refuse to call me.”
“I was going to refuse to call you.”
“Exactly,” she said with a smile. “Should we do it here, or do you have an office?”
Heat swept through my veins, and a shot of adrenaline made my whole body buzz. I could do a lot of things to Melanie in my office.
No, no, I couldn’t.
I slid my tongue along my teeth, feeling like I teetered on the edge of a knife. I could tell her to leave—burn that bridge all the way down to ash. We had to live in the same town, but that didn’t mean we had to get along. There was no good reason for me to extend an olive branch.
Except the tiny glimmer of hope in her eyes tugged at something in my chest. I didn’t want to acknowledge that I could have feelings for Melanie—other than antipathy—but for a moment, there was something else there. Something I’d tried to bury a long time ago.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
I led her through the garage to my office. There was a leather couch that I rarely used, a large desk, and the walls were covered in pictures of restorations I’d done. I sat at my desk and gestured for her to sit in one of the extra chairs. She sat, crossing her legs at the ankle and folding her hands in her lap.
