She’d gone online in the middle of the night because she hadn’t been able to sleep. Not because she owed him anything.
He glanced at the paper in her hand but made no attempt to accept it. “Thank you. But I want you.”
They were being so polite to each other, she wanted to scream. Their relationship had always been a playful, passionate one. They didn’t do polite small talk. “Well, that’s not going to happen.” She tucked the paper into the front pocket of his button-down shirt and gave it a pat. “I have to get back to work.” She started to walk away but stopped. “When did you have your knee surgery?”
“Two weeks ago.”
She shook her head and started for the kitchen. “You should be home icing and elevating. Have a nice day.”
Chad was tempted to go after her but flopped down in the chair next to Shelby. “Have a nice day? What the hell was that?”
“A polite F-you?”
He laughed to mask the hurt. “So, what’s my next move?”
Shelby shook her head. “I need to stay out of this, Chad. You’re going to have to do the rest on your own. Jo’s friendship means the world to me. And so does ours, so I’m officially backing out—after I tell you one last thing.” She crooked her finger to draw him closer. “First, I still can’t understand why you’re not playing your ace in the hole, but anyway, she’s going to talk to her dad today about cosigning on a loan. She hates the idea, but it’s her last resort. It might be worth a call to her father. Something like, ‘Hi, I’m in town and could you help me find a PT, Dr. Westin?’ If you get my drift?”
Yeah, he got Shelby’s drift just fine. It’d be a little underhanded to get her father involved, but effective. He didn’t want to show all his cards quite yet.
Even though Chad owned the property next door she needed for her expansion—it was a prime piece of real estate—he didn’t want to have to stoop that low. To force Jo to rehab him if she wanted to expand. “Good idea. But I think I’ll go give Jo one more chance to accept my offer before I make that call.”
“You realize she has knives back there, right?”
“I’ll take my chances. Thanks, Shelby.” He struggled to stand. Being a damn invalid sucked. It took him five times longer to do even the simplest things.
Pushing the swinging door open to the kitchen, he scanned the sea of spotless stainless steel but didn’t see Jo anywhere. One of the line cooks glanced up and smiled. “Hey. You’re Chad Jenks, right? Sorry about your knee, man.”
Chad hobbled over and shook both the wide-eyed cooks’ hands. He always made a point to greet fans. “Thanks. Do you guys know where Jo is?”
They pointed to a door in the rear.
After signing their chef hats, he headed her way. She sat at her desk, her back to him. She’d pinned her long, thick hair up in a sloppy bun with a pencil sticking out of it.
Massaging the back of her neck with one hand, she cradled the phone in the other. Jo always carried all her tension in that long, kissable neck.
When he’d first seen her, wrapping an injured ankle in a locker room in college, he’d been instantly attracted to her. When she’d finished, she’d stood and met his stare head-on. A tall, dark-haired beauty with a challenge in her eyes. How was it possible Jo had gotten even more beautiful?
He needed to stop those thoughts and keep his eye on the prize. Stick to his plan, and if he was lucky and Jo came around and finally forgave him, that’d be better than any signing bonus he’d ever received.
It sounded like she was talking to her father’s receptionist, trying to make an appointment for later that afternoon. He leaned against a file cabinet while she finished up her call. Her appointment was for three o’clock, so he had some time to get to her dad first.
Dr. Westin was a celebrity suck-up who’d take his call but could barely make time for his own kid. His own adopted kid. Jo had never been treated quite as well as her brother, Greg, who was their biological son. He’d followed in the family tradition and become a doctor. Jo’d tried but hated it and became a physical therapist to make her father happy. Nothing made that man happy except for his work.
Her passion obviously lay with her restaurant. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t damned good at the PT job. He needed her to use those skills on him.
Jo hung up and then spun around, her chair letting out a long, loud squawk. “I thought you left.”
“That needs some WD-40. I might have some out in the truck.”
She crossed her arms and sent him a bored stare.
Maybe it’d be better to just hand her the check. He yanked out his wallet.