Page 82 of So Much More
When we reach my Porsche 944, Wendy maneuvers her tiny self into the minuscule backseat, giving Leslie shotgun, since she’s at least six inches taller. Before I pull out of the parking spot, I angle the rearview mirror so I can see Wendy while still having a view out the back window.
As soon as we’re out on the street, Leslie says, “Now that I have both of you trapped, I expect one of you to tell me why you,” she twists around and points to Wendy, “can’t stop smiling, and you,” she trains her finger on me, “have barely said a word since I found you looking all dreamy eyed in your office.”
“I didn’t look dreamy eyed!” I protest.
“You looked like one of those cartoon characters with hearts floating around their head.” She flutters her fingers around her face for emphasis.
Wendy giggles, and Leslie turns on her again and says, “You know you’re going to tell me as soon as we’re alone, so why not tell me now?”
Wendy and I lock eyes in the mirror, I give her a tiny nod, and she says, “We kissed.”
Leslie is silent, and when I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, her mouth is wide open.
“It’s true,” I say. “We made out in my office like a couple of hormonal teenagers. Your little friend back there knocked my socks off.” I figure if we’re going to talk about it, I might as well go for broke.
“You didnotmake out in your office.”
I give a fake gasp. “I don’t think you have any room to talk about kissing someone at work, Ms. Beckett.”
Her cheeks turn pink. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t care where you kiss each other. I’m surprised, is all.”
I shrug. “Well, to be clear on the location, it was in the vicinity of our mouths. And I was surprised, too. This one,” I point my thumb behind us at Wendy, “waltzed into my office wearing that delicious little skirt, locked the door, climbed on top of me, and demanded I kiss her. Who was I to say no?”
“Randall!” Wendy glowers at me in the mirror.
“You were going to tell her the whole story anyway, and you know it.”
“Maybe so, but you don’t have to make it sound so tawdry.”
“Tawdry? It wasn’t tawdry. It was sexy, you coming in and asking me to kiss you, knowing we could get caught but not caring, you little exhibitionist.”
“Ah, see?” Wendy says. “You’re changing your story. First you said I demanded, then you said I asked. Which is what happened, for the record.”
“You know I love it when you get feisty.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “Makes me want to kiss you again, and we’d have an audience this time, which I’ve discovered gets you revved up.”
“I’m going to ignore that ridiculous statement. Plus, it would be kind of hard for you to kiss me when I’m trapped back here in this shoebox of a backseat,” she retorts.
“Are you complaining about my car?”
“Yes. It might be pretty, but it’s not very practical.”
“My car is notpretty.It’s cool.”
“It’s dumb.”
Leslie has been silent during this whole exchange, her focus ping-ponging between us, but now she says, “I find it quite entertaining that you two can go from kissing to snapping at each other in such a short amount of time.”
“Wendy loves it that way,” I state. “She enjoys the variety.”
“Oh, I do?” she retorts. “Says who?”
“Me.” I raise an eyebrow at her in the mirror. “Am I wrong?”
“No.” She pouts, which is so adorable I almost crash into the car stopped at the light ahead of me because I’m gazing at her.
“Eyes on the road, not on the redhead, Hamilton,” Leslie says.
She adjusts the mirror so I can’t see Wendy, but I shift it right back to where it was.
