Damn it.
And of course, he’s got that smile that makes my heart do little flips plastered across his stupid face. He pulls over, sliding up behind my car, and gets out. “Need a ride?”
Yes, so that I’m not late. “I should really wait here for the tow truck.”
He comes over and stands in front of me. “Are you saying that because you actually want to wait, or because you don’t want to get in the car with me?”
There’s nothing but curse words filling my mind as I stare at the dirt. Why does he always seem to know what I’m thinking, and why does he always seem to see me at my worst? Without warning, I start to tear up. Great.
“Hey,” he says, with real concern in his voice. “Naomi, it’s going to be okay.”
“It’s not that,” I say softly. “It’s just…everything. And you always seem to show up when something’s going wrong. At some point I’d like you to see me when I’m not sweaty or failing or covered in ink.”
Andrew puts his hands in his pockets. “First of all, ink is a really good look for you.”
I laugh a little, still not looking up at him.
“Second…do you know what I liked most about the copy room?”
“The fact that I was practically naked from the waist down?”
“No, that was a bonus. I liked the fact that you were fixing the copier at all. I don’t know of any paralegals in that firm that would have gotten down on their knees and wrinkled their clothes to try to solve the problem on their own. Why do that when you can just call maintenance?”
I shrug. “What’s your point?”
“My point,” he says, reaching out and tilting my face up so I can see him, “is that things happen. Life is messy. It’s okay if other people see the things that go wrong sometimes.”
“That’s easy for you to say when you’re always playing the white knight.”
He smiles, not a grin, but a full and beautiful smile. “Everyone needs a knight from time to time, even though I’d hardly cast you as the damsel in distress.”
He leans down to kiss me. It’s sweet and soft and a perfect moment. An entirely different kind of kiss from the passionate hunger we shared before.
“Now, come on. Let me drive you back. We’ll deal with your car later.”
He’s right. I’d rather deal with the car later than face my uncle’s anger. Plus, after a kiss like that, there’s no way I’m not getting in Andrew’s car. I take a couple of minutes to cancel the tow truck and grab my things from my backseat, making sure that my car is locked. Andrew’s car is much nicer than mine, but I still miss my beat up seats and squeaky windows. It’s almost too quiet in here. I like that I can hear the sound of the road in my car.
I try to relax, knowing we’ve got at least an hour drive ahead of us. We’re silent for a while, but it isn’t a bad silence. Just peaceful.
Finally breaking it, Andrew asks, “Why do you work for your uncle?”
I laugh. “Well, the short answer is that I don’t have another choice right now.”
“And the long answer?”
“It’s not that interesting,” I say, trying to deflect him off of the subject.
He’s smirking now. “I just figure that we should start to get to know each other, given what we’ve done so far. Things I don’t plan on stopping, by the way.”
I blush, and turn to look out the passenger window, hoping that gives him the idea that I’m done with this subject. It doesn’t.
“I’ll go first if you want. I grew up in New Hampshire with my mom, Dad left when I was ten. Had a pretty typical school experience, but I thought I wanted to be an architect. I thought they were cool, and the idea of designing something so permanent that could possibly change the face of a city appealed to me. Turns out though, I’m not a great architect, and I like people too much to be cooped up and hunched over a table. So I switched tracks and here I am.”
“That’s not the whole story, though,” I say, watching his face for clues as I call him out. “You’ve risen too quickly at Grayson & Wates for that to be all of it.”
“Richard Wates was the one who hired me as an associate. He liked me, decided to mentor me. I learned a lot from him, and he promoted me when he felt I had learned enough. Making me a senior partner was one of the last things he did before he retired. I’m surprised you know about that, though.”
“My uncle has talked about you.”
“Probably not good things.”
I shake my head. “No. Not good things.”
“All right, your turn.”