Something Wild(9)

How the heck had that happened? How could she possibly cherish something  that had taken place with a man she didn't even know? Especially when  it was something that should have her quaking with guilt.

Yet again, she supposed it came back to the fantasy he'd helped her live  out. Which meant it really had nothing to do with him exactly, only her  and her fantasies, right?

Just then, the doorbell chimed. She nearly leapt from the couch as a  familiar tingle ran the length of her body. She was about to see him  again.

Smoothing back a lock of hair and wishing she'd worn something prettier,  she walked to the door and took a deep breath, trying to prepare  herself for the afternoon ahead. Because even if she tried to pretend  otherwise, the truth was, this felt far from finished.

* * *

Ryan stood on the doorstep thinking about what he'd envisioned the other  day upon finding out about this meeting-her  …  on top of him. Ludicrous.  He didn't want that and neither did she. They'd had a bizarre meeting  in a limo, but they were putting it behind them now like the mature  young professionals they both were.

Of course, that didn't mean a little spiral of sensation didn't bite  into him when she answered the door, or that he didn't spend a fleeting  thought on her black bra even when she appeared in shorts and a T-shirt.  But he was a guy; sexual thoughts were supposed to be in his blood. He  decided that made it okay, so long as he knew where his head and heart  lay, which was in being mature and doing this job without any further  intimate complications.

"Hi," he said. He found himself blinking at her uneasily. She wasn't  wearing the baseball cap today and her hair fell over her shoulders in  silky waves. Her dark blue eyes struck him as warm and deceivingly  innocent.

"Hi." She glanced at his face, then her feet, then his face again.

They both seemed nervous already. This wasn't going to work without some radical move on his part.

"Listen," he said, stepping inside, "as I said the other day, I know  this is awkward, but let's not worry about it anymore. How about  this-let's just pretend this is the first time we've ever met." He held  out his hand and put on a professional voice along with a professional  smile. "I'm Ryan Pierce from Schuster Systems, and I'll be designing the  system for your restaurant."

Her sweet smile seemed appreciative. "Penny Halloran, half owner of the Two Sisters Restaurant and Pub."

She took his hand, squeezing it gently in hers, after which they moved  to the living room, to a desk where Penny had pulled up an extra chair  next to her computer. Maybe this would all be okay, Ryan thought.

By the time she'd offered him a drink and returned with two glasses of  iced tea, Ryan had drawn his laptop from its leather case and set it up  beside Penny's monitor. "Let's get started," he suggested.

"I've made a lot of lists and typed up some questions and ideas," Penny  said, sitting down next to him. She motioned to her computer screen.  "Now I just hope they make some sort of sense."

Ryan smiled, but it came more naturally this time. "I'm sure we can make  sense of them together and transform them into a workable system for  you."

To his relief, things soon settled into a nice, easy rhythm, and before  long, he felt so comfortable talking business with her that it almost  shocked him. Maybe he'd not really believed things could go well, but  they were. Penny filled him in on all the things she wanted the system  to handle, from payroll and budget to food and drink orders, and Ryan  couldn't help but be impressed by how well thought out her ideas were.

"This is great," he said. "You've done half my work for me. Now let's  see if we can start putting your ideas together with mine." He turned to  his laptop and pulled up the first of several screens he'd already  started creating from templates at the office.

"Oh, you used our logo!"

"Yeah," Ryan replied, following her eyes to the monitor. He'd thought  the system might feel more as though it belonged to her and her sister  if he headed each screen with a small graphic of the Two Sisters logo.  On the opening screen, the graphic appeared much larger. "I just scanned  it from the card on … " Damn, he hadn't meant to bring that up again.  " … my, uh, sandwich bag the other day."

She tensed at his words, but he could see she was a trouper, trying to  maintain her composure. "That's great. I love it." She even met his gaze  for good measure. Unfortunately, after having reminded them both of  their encounter in the limo, he couldn't help looking into her eyes more  deeply than seemed prudent.                       
       
           



       

She jerked her gaze back to the computer.

Good idea, he thought, doing the same.

"So this is a start-up screen?" she asked.

"Precisely." Back to business. "This is what you'll see each morning  when you turn on the computer. We'll label the boxes under the logo with  the various system components we create and you'll touch them or click  on them with the mouse to go to, say, payroll or menu."

"Okay." She nodded.

"What I suggest we do next is go over each of the areas one by one. I'll  design everything to your specifications, then we'll go into test  phase, looking for things that don't work, or changes you'd like to  make. Sound good?"

"Sounds great."

The serious work began then, and after much intensive talking,  brainstorming and studying screens, Ryan felt he'd gathered enough  information from Penny to lay out preliminary designs for the accounts  payable and accounts receivable sections of the system.

As Penny leaned back in her chair next to him, he glanced toward the  antique-looking clock on her mantel to see that it was already  five-thirty.

"Time to call it a day?" she asked.

"Well," he admitted with a grin, "I haven't exactly been following  normal business hours lately, so if I knock off this early, I'll feel  like I'm really slacking. I'll probably head home and get back to work,  start getting some of this information keyed into the laptop."

Penny gave him a derisive look. "Don't tell me, you're one of those guys  who burns the midnight oil and never takes time to stop and smell the  roses."

He shrugged. "Looks like you're onto me."

"That's bad for your health, you know. And I know your type. I bet my  sandwiches are the healthiest food you've been putting into your body  lately. Am I right?"

"Okay, you caught me again. I've had a standing late-night date with the  girl at the McDonald's drive-through for the past week. But when you're  in a competitive market and you want to get ahead, you've gotta give a  hundred percent."

"Sure, but you don't have a hundred percent to give if you never stop to  refuel." She shifted her gaze toward the kitchen. "Me, I'm gonna heat  up some pot roast. Real food," she added teasingly.

"Wow, pot roast. I haven't had anything that good in ages." He winced  inwardly as soon as he'd spoken, though-he hadn't meant to sound as if  he was hinting for an invitation.

Penny's reply affirmed his fears. "I have plenty. I made dinner for my  parents and sister yesterday, but I'll never be able to eat all the  leftovers myself."

He shook his head. "Thanks, but no. I'm really anxious to get to work on  this. I want to have some fresh screens to show you before we meet  tomorrow afternoon." And I also want to make sure we keep this just  business. The afternoon had gone surprisingly well and Ryan hated to  risk screwing it up now by changing it into something social.

"I really don't mind. I can heat it up in the microwave and bake a  couple of potatoes while I'm at it. It'll take fifteen minutes. And it's  the least I can do, considering all the overtime you're planning to put  in on this job. Unless … " she added, cringing slightly, "you think  eating together would be too … "

"No," he said. "It's not that." Which was a lie, of course. He  definitely thought it would be too awkward-maybe even tempting?-but he  certainly couldn't admit it. Besides, maybe Penny was right; maybe he  needed a little downtime if he was going to keep doing worthwhile work.  He'd kept his professional wits about him all afternoon, so surely he  could handle another hour in her presence. "Okay," he finally conceded,  summoning a smile. "I'd love some real food."

When he offered to help, Penny assigned him the job of setting the small  table in the breakfast nook that jutted off from the old-fashioned  white-on-white kitchen. "Very retro," he said appreciatively of the  white Formica table.

"Very garage sale." She laughed as she dug in the refrigerator, which  also looked as though it had a few miles on it. "I like old things," she  added, turning toward him, a large bowl covered with plastic wrap  cradled in her arms. "I love these old hardwood floors and the old  wooden cabinets. I bought this house with the idea of remodeling it, but  by the time the restaurant was doing well enough that I could afford  it, I'd grown attached to it all, just the way it is."