Just as she picked up one of the triangle shapes of goodness, she heard the door shut behind her. Turning her head, she expected to see the hospital administrator Mr. Fields. She almost spit out the bite of bread and lunchmeat when, instead of a short, portly, balding fifty-something man standing in front of her, there was a tall, sexy twenty-seven-year-old rock star.
“Hi,” he said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for him to be standing in a staff only conference room.
Chewing quickly, she swallowed the bite she’d just taken (which was a difficult task, considering the fact that Krista’s mouth had gone dry at the sight of the sexy stubble that ran along Chase’s jawline). “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she barked at him. “You can’t be in here. I have a meeting.”
Sure, maybe she was being a little harsh. But did she care? No. Krista had worked hard to establish a good reputation for herself and she needed to maintain her professionalism. If Chase was here when Mr. Fields arrived, it wouldn’t look good. This was her job, and it was going to be long after Chase blew out of town again. If she sounded like a mama bear protecting her cubs, then so be it. He was a big boy. He could handle it.
He stared at her, his only reaction a slight raise of his left brow. Even that small gesture made her insides go to mush and had her fighting a massive swoon attack that was threatening to take place.
Chase stood in front of her wearing jeans, a green vintage t-shirt, and a baseball cap. On any other guy, it would look at the very best casual, at the worst sloppy. On Chase, it looked mouth-wateringly delicious.
One could use the argument that anyone could look good when you had more money than God. But in this case, she knew for a fact that Chase Malone always looked good in anything he wore. His wide shoulders and lean, muscular chest created the perfect frame for anything from t-shirts and sweatshirts to tuxes. All of which she’d seen him in.
He looks even better out of them, that irritatingly nosy voice in her head piped up. She pushed it out of her mind and ignored it…mostly.
Krista knew that he was waiting for an apology for biting his head off. His sexy ass could wait all day. One was not going to be forthcoming. “I’m serious. You need to go. I have a meeting.”
“I know,” he said smugly, as if that explained everything.
Now he was really starting to make her mad. Not just because he was sexier than he had any right to be while sharing her air space. Nope, her panties were in a bunch because of his entitled attitude. Maybe he’d just been a ‘rock star’ so long that he’d forgotten what it was like to work a real job, with a real boss, and real consequences if you were unprofessional.
And why wouldn’t he have forgotten? What would even qualify as unprofessional behavior for a rock star? Not trashing hotel rooms and actually showering? She thought snarkily.
Just as Krista was about to give him a piece of her mind, he said, “Your meeting is with me.”
“What?”
“I called this meeting,” he explained as he stepped up beside her to the table and began filling a small plate of finger food.
“Are you serious?” Krista said, feeling her jaw lock with tension.
“Yep,” he said as he popped a green grape in his mouth, looking really proud of himself for orchestrating all of this.
“You did this?” she asked again as she waved her hand towards the table filled with food. She knew she was repeating herself, but she was still having trouble wrapping her mind around it.
He nodded. “Vickey helped me.”
Of course she did!
“Chase,” she spoke slowly, trying not to overreact. She wasn’t a teenager anymore, even if he made her feel like she was. She was an adult. She just needed to set boundaries. Like an adult. “You can’t come to my job and involve my superiors—”
“I needed to talk to you,” he interrupted.
This was un-freaking-believable. Who did he think he was?
“I can’t believe you. Just because you are…you, you think you can just snap your fingers and I’ll come running? I don’t care if you were named the sexiest man alive three times and you have eight Grammys. This is my job.” Krista’s heart was racing as she turned to leave.
“I need to talk to you.” His deep voice vibrated through her, but she didn’t let the fact that her body was betraying her slow her down. She reached for the door handle and was just about to flip him the bird when he continued. “About my mom.”
Shit.
Abby. If there was one soft spot Krista could not guard herself against, the subject of Chase’s mom was it. Her Achilles’ heel. She felt like Samson getting his hair cut off. All of her fight and strength dissipated like Alka-Seltzer. She could practically hear the plop-plop-fizz-fizz. Except in her case, she felt anything but a relief.