Falling For Her Boss (10 page)

"Francie?"

The way he said her name made it sound so feminine, so lovely.  She stopped and met his gaze.

"You're lucky."

She knew what he meant.  She tried not to take her family for granted because she'd missed them so much.  But sometimes she did.  "I am lucky," she agreed and with a last lingering look went to the rink to forget about Noah and do what she was paid to do.

****

The senior citizens took the floor with as much enthusiasm, if not as much speed, as the children.  Noah stood at the ticket window and watched Francie greet many of her customers by name.  One of the women who looked old enough to be Francie's grandmother put her arm around Francie's shoulders and gave her a hug.  When the music started, Francie skated around the rink, smiling and talking with the skaters.

Suddenly Noah needed to be out there with her.  He went to the rental booth and found a pair of skates his size.  He laced up, tucking the ends into the black boots.

Sometimes he skated when he was visiting a rink.  Not often, though.  And never in public.  He usually rolled the laps for exercise when everyone had gone home.  But now he wanted to get out there for the simple pleasure of skating with the crowd.

He rolled onto the floor with the flow of the skaters.  The first time he rolled past Francie, her jaw dropped open in surprise.  The second time, she smiled at him.  That smile of hers lit up his dreams.  The third time around, he came up beside her and said, "Skate with me."

Before she could answer, he took her in a promenade position, both of them facing forward.  They glided without breaking rhythm.  If Francie leaned into him, her head would nestle into his neck.  She would fit perfectly against his body.  He had no doubt about it.

He held her left hand in his right.  Her arm surrounded his waist loosely; he held hers a little tighter.  Feeling her warmth, smelling her scent of roses, seeing her hair sway like a silky curtain across his chest created a swell of excitement within him that could easily turn into powerful arousal.

The motion, the music, the colored lights flickering across the floor swirled pleasure around and through all his senses.  He felt alive in a way he'd never experienced.  Because of Francie.

She was as pretty as a sunny spring day, as independent as a wildflower, as vibrant as a fireworks display.  And he could enjoy her only for the length of the song.  Longer than that and he'd want more.

She tipped up her head.  "You really can skate."

"You had doubts?"

She blushed as the air from their movement ruffled her bangs.

"Underestimating me again?"

"Maybe," she said so softly he could hardly hear her.

Francie's head spun and it had nothing to do with skating around the oval rink.  Noah had taken her by surprise and she'd instinctively taken his hand and wrapped her arm around his waist in a standard position.  Her fingers lay across his belt, the tips feeling the heat of his skin under his oxford shirt.

His chest was hard beside her.  She remembered the tips of her fingers grazing it.  If she could run her hands across it...  No! Enjoy the music, enjoy the motion, pretend Noah is any man.

Oh, sure.

Francie didn't know how long they skated.  One song melted into the next.  Noah's hold became more natural yet more stimulating at the same time.  His long fingers splayed close to her breasts as he shifted his hold.

She caught her breath.  When he bent to her and his voice whispered close to her ear, she lost it again.

"Would you like to take a break?  Veronica's on the floor now, too."

When Francie turned her head, her chin met his.  She felt a slight stubble, could smell his woodsy cologne.  If they hadn't been rolling along, she would have stumbled.  But poise on skates was her specialty.

"I could use a bottle of water."  The breathlessness in her voice surprised even her.

His lips seemed to linger close to her ear and she thought she felt the texture of them, but it happened so quickly she must have been mistaken.

When they rolled toward the reception area, Noah still held her even as the smooth surface of the floor changed to low-piled carpet.  They rolled to a stop, neither of them moving, neither taking the steps to separate.

Francie turned slowly with Noah's arm still surrounding her.  Her gaze met his.  The music stopped.  The lights dimmed.  The temperature went up at least ten degrees.  They were alone and the roll of skates became silent.

She took a breath.

Noah lowered his head.

CHAPTER SIX

Francie closed her eyes.

Nothing happened.  She didn't feel Noah's arms close around her.  She didn't feel the touch of his lips.

But the moment she opened her eyes, she saw his glowing dark and hot.  He brushed his thumb across her cheek.

She felt bemused, lost, disappointed.  She couldn't keep from asking, "Why?"

His thumb rubbed back and forth until she almost purred.  His touch was sensual, caring, gentle.  It almost softened the blow of his words.

"It would be a mistake, Francie.  We both know that."

Her mind knew that but her heart didn't.

Being on roller skates had its advantages.  She'd almost made a fool of herself.  She turned away from him, his touch, and his logic, and took off for the ladies' room.

He called after her, but she pretended not to hear.  She had nothing to say to him; he had nothing to say to her.  A mistake.  The kiss would have been a mistake.  She repeated that to herself as the door closed behind her and she went to the sink to splash cool water on her face.

****

Saturday morning Francie ignored Noah.  He knew he deserved her anger.  But the problem was that she wasn't angry; she was indifferent.  He could handle anger better than indifference.  It wasn't natural for Francie.  She was passionate about everything.

He shifted the paperwork on the desk.  He should have handled the situation differently.  Maybe he should have kissed her.  No.  A kiss with Francie could never be casual.  To pretend otherwise wouldn't be right.  He'd done what he had to do.  As usual.

Francie came into the office, her expression impersonal.  "I'll be in the lobby for a few minutes.  Drew's father is coming in when he picks up Drew."

"Francie, about last night..."

She gave it a dismissive shrug.  "Don't think twice about it, Noah.  I'm not.  Neither of us wants to make a mistake."

She said it with such...neutrality, he couldn't believe she meant it.  Maybe he didn't want to believe she meant it.  Was he having second thoughts about getting involved?

As if it was all part of the same subject, Francie continued, "I'll let you know when I'm back on the floor."

Francie went to the lobby and took a couple of deep breaths.  Dealing with Noah in a businesslike manner should not cause so much turmoil.  He was her boss; she was his employee.  She had to remember that.

Drew and his father stood in the corner of the lobby.  Francie crossed to them with a smile on her face.  Mr. Pierson wasn't smiling.  She extended her hand to the man anyway.

He took hers and shook it briefly.  "Drew said you wanted to talk to me.  I hope he hasn't been misbehaving."

"Oh, no.  Nothing like that," she was quick to reassure him.  "In fact, it was Drew who suggested I speak with you."

The eight-year-old tugged on his dad's sleeve.  "I'm gonna wait outside with Rick.  Okay, Dad?"

Mr. Pierson gave his son an inquiring look.  "All right.  But stay on the sidewalk."

Drew scampered outside.

"Mr. Pierson, Drew would like to skate with the other children his age and he asked me to talk with you about that."

"Drew has been badgering me about it at home."

Francie knew when a child wanted something badly enough, "no" was not the final word.  "Accidents really are rare, Mr. Pierson.  There are usually two skaters rolling around the rink for security reasons, to make sure no one skates too fast or pulls a stunt that could injure someone else.  Of course there are some falls.  But if Drew comes to the lessons Saturday mornings for beginners, he should be able to stay on his feet.  I don't know what else to say to reassure you.  This is your decision, but roller-skating can have many benefits besides Drew having fun.  It's good exercise.  And if Drew can skate with his peers, he'll feel as if he belongs.  Children hate to be singled out.  They don't like to be different from their friends."

Jud Pierson gazed out the window at his son.  "I want to keep him safe."

"I know you do," she said quietly.

"Let me think about it, Ms. Piccard.  I'll talk to my wife.  If I decide to let Drew skate, I'll send a note with him next weekend."

"That's fine.  And if I don't get a note, Drew will stick to just hanging with his friends."

Francie said good-bye to Drew's dad and went back to the office, relieved to see Noah wasn't there.  She'd felt his gaze on her all morning.  She needed a breather.  She needed to think about...

The phone rang and she automatically scooped it up.

"Ms. Piccard, this is Tom Carson with Town Realty.  Mr. Gordon said it would be all right to set up an appointment to show the rink either with you or him."

Her stomach jumped.  "I see."

"I have a client who would like to view the property Wednesday at two.  Will that suit you?"

She mentally ran through her schedule.  "I have a class at that time."

"A class won't interfere with my client's examining the property.  It's not necessary for you or Mr. Gordon to be present."

She felt powerless to prevent the inevitable.  If they didn't come Wednesday, they'd come another time.  "Then I suppose Wednesday is fine.  If Mr. Gordon has a problem with it, he'll call you."

Francie's hand shook as she replaced the receiver on its base.  The sale of the rink could soon be a reality.  Noah had said it might take months.  But depending on who wanted to buy it and their financial status, it could be a matter of weeks.  She had the sensation of being on a merry-go-round that was spinning faster and faster.  Somehow she had to stop it.  Somehow she had to get control of everything happening around her.

There was one way to get some perspective.  It was time to stop dilly-dallying and take action.  She spoke to Veronica, then went to find Noah.  He stood at the counter in the pro shop, looking over a list of inventory; Charlie wasn't in sight.  So much the better.

"How'd it go?" Noah asked as she approached him.

"He's a reasonable man.  He's going to think about it."

When she simply stood there, not saying more, Noah asked, "Is there something else?"

She kept her voice even, despite the turmoil inside her.  "Yes, your real estate agent thinks he has a prospective buyer.  He's bringing him through on Wednesday around two."

"It shouldn't interfere with your class."

"I'm going to cancel some of my classes this week.  Veronica can take the others."

Noah came out from behind the counter.  "Why?"

She clasped her hands and stood her ground.  "You're moving ahead with your options, I have to move ahead with mine.  I'm going to New York for a few days to watch Brent train."

Noah's eyes bored into her, his voice deepened.  "When are you leaving?"

"I've already talked to Veronica and I'm going to call Brent.  If it's all right with him, I'll drive up tomorrow."

"It's a long drive."

"About five hours."

"When do you think you'll return?"

"I'm not sure."

Noah didn't seem troubled by her news but took it matter-of-factly.  "All right.  I'll need a number in case anything comes up here I need to talk to you about."

"Like selling the rink."

"Possibly."  He said the word simply, smoothly, with no emotion.

 She knew she had to get a grip on her own emotions.  "Nothing you've seen has changed your mind."

"Not enough to warrant keeping it."

She wasn't surprised.  She wished the tension between  her and Noah would go away.  She wished he'd kiss her so she could get it over with and stop thinking about it.  Lord, what was she thinking?  Maybe the tension was good.  It kept them from getting too friendly.

"I have a class now.  After I call Brent, I'll leave the information on the desk."

Noah nodded.  "Fine."

"Fine," she repeated.  But as she left the pro shop, she knew everything wasn't fine and she'd never felt so confused in all of her twenty-five years.

****

Noah stood at his small kitchen window, looking out into the black night.  His body was wired with a tension that not even his vigorous workout had dissipated.  The shower hadn't helped, either.  Simply staring over at the Piccard household wound him up more.  Francie was probably up in her room.  Packing.

She'd left him her cell phone number and the address where she'd be staying.  The address wasn't a hotel.  Would she be staying with McIntosh?  Could the man convince her to be more than his skating partner again?

Noah swore, disgusted with himself.  What Francie did or didn't do was none of his business.  Then why did he feel she'd taken a piece of him and run away with it? 

He closed the blind and grabbed his jacket from the kitchen chair.  Maybe a long walk in the cold night air would help.

Walking up and down tree-lined streets, he paid little attention to the residential area, not caring where one street ended and another began.  But even his brisk stride couldn't calm his body or his mind.  Francie's face as she waited for his kiss was vivid and clear.  The determination in her voice when she'd told him she was going to New York was like a repetitive soundtrack that wouldn't stop playing.  But most of all, the confusion in her eyes because he was playing havoc with her future tore at him.

Returning to the garage apartment, he paused at the foot of the steps, no more tired or relaxed than when he'd started.  The back porch light at the Piccard house shone brightly.  It hadn't been on before he'd taken his walk.  He saw a shadow of movement deeper into the yard and he started toward it, not sure why.  Maybe he was just lonely and wanted someone to talk to so he could get his mind off Francie.