would I take your carpeting?" he asked. His voice held a faint note of amusement.
" Why would Robert take my furniture?" she tossed back at him. "The carpet is all I have left, therefore it's the next to go."
" I don't want your carpeting."
" Good," she said, beginning to soften a bit herself. "Because I'm not in the mood to fight you for it."
" Fighting's good," he said.
" If you win, maybe."
" What does your lawyer say?"
" He says I shouldn't worry."
" He'll do the worrying for you, right?"
Heat rose up her throat and into her cheeks. "Yes," she said. "That's exactly what he said."
" Bastard."
" He's actually a very nice man.''
" Great," he said. "So what's he doing to protect you?"
" He outlined a few things," she said. "Not that it's any of your business."
" You'd better make it your business," he said. "Lawyers are crooks."
" I don't think Spencer's a crook."
" Spencer? You call him by his first name?"
" Why wouldn't I?" She was growing tired of the sparring. "He calls me by my first name."
" Is there something between you two?"
" This is about you," she said, "not me. You have no right to be here. I don't appreciate having a stranger on my property. You should have called."
" I don't have your phone number."
" Try 555-1212. I hear they specialize in phone numbers."
" I did. You're unlisted."
" You're right," she said. "I forgot that."
" I could've written you a letter." An edgy smile lifted the left corner of his mouth.
She refused to acknowledge either the smile or where she 'd imagined that mouth exploring the night before. "You know I can't afford to hire, you," she said.
" You can't afford not to hire me."
" How do you figure that?" She'd seen her bank book. He hadn't. She couldn't afford to hire a mouse.
" You're already out the money. You might as well get something for it."
She looked at him closely. If there was an ulterior moti ve behind his words, he hid it well. "Come in," she said after a moment. "I'll give you some iced tea, and we can talk." She laughed bitterly. "We can't sit but we can talk."
" We can sit," he said.
" On the stairs," she said
" We can do better than that." He motioned for her to follow him back to his truck, where he pulled back the canvas covering. "A few things you might be able to use."
" Chairs!" she exclaimed, astonished.
" And a table, a few lamps. I can get you a sofa by Sunday afternoon."
" I can't believe you did this."
" No big deal," he said, grabbing one of the upholstered chairs and lifting it from the truck.
" It is a big deal," she said. "I don't have the money for this."
" Just say thanks," he said, starting up the path to the front door.
" I can't say thanks because I can't accept this."
" Are we going to waste time on this or can we just cut to the final scene?" He didn't break stride. "I owe you a shitload of money. I don't have it to give back to you. This is one of the ways I can pay down the debt."
" I don't know—"
" You're pregnant," he said. "You're going to get more pregnant. If you can't take this stuff for your own sake, think about the baby. You can call it a loan if it makes you feel better."
His words hit her hard. This stranger cared more than the baby 's father. She found herself softening.
It made perfect sense when she thought about it. He 'd pocketed a fair chunk of change for work he wouldn't be doing, and she could see he was the kind of man who couldn't live easily with that. Still she felt vaguely disappointed and wasn't sure why.
She walked ahead of him and unlocked the front door. "Where do you want it?" he asked as he stepped into the foyer.
" The living room," she said. "Near the window."
" Not bad," he said. "Good thing you have white walls, Everything goes with white."
Almost everything , she thought. The green-and-white plaid club chair might be pushing the envelope, but she didn't say anything. She was grateful to have something other than the floor and the staircase to sit on.
" Go do what
" Why would Robert take my furniture?" she tossed back at him. "The carpet is all I have left, therefore it's the next to go."
" I don't want your carpeting."
" Good," she said, beginning to soften a bit herself. "Because I'm not in the mood to fight you for it."
" Fighting's good," he said.
" If you win, maybe."
" What does your lawyer say?"
" He says I shouldn't worry."
" He'll do the worrying for you, right?"
Heat rose up her throat and into her cheeks. "Yes," she said. "That's exactly what he said."
" Bastard."
" He's actually a very nice man.''
" Great," he said. "So what's he doing to protect you?"
" He outlined a few things," she said. "Not that it's any of your business."
" You'd better make it your business," he said. "Lawyers are crooks."
" I don't think Spencer's a crook."
" Spencer? You call him by his first name?"
" Why wouldn't I?" She was growing tired of the sparring. "He calls me by my first name."
" Is there something between you two?"
" This is about you," she said, "not me. You have no right to be here. I don't appreciate having a stranger on my property. You should have called."
" I don't have your phone number."
" Try 555-1212. I hear they specialize in phone numbers."
" I did. You're unlisted."
" You're right," she said. "I forgot that."
" I could've written you a letter." An edgy smile lifted the left corner of his mouth.
She refused to acknowledge either the smile or where she 'd imagined that mouth exploring the night before. "You know I can't afford to hire, you," she said.
" You can't afford not to hire me."
" How do you figure that?" She'd seen her bank book. He hadn't. She couldn't afford to hire a mouse.
" You're already out the money. You might as well get something for it."
She looked at him closely. If there was an ulterior moti ve behind his words, he hid it well. "Come in," she said after a moment. "I'll give you some iced tea, and we can talk." She laughed bitterly. "We can't sit but we can talk."
" We can sit," he said.
" On the stairs," she said
" We can do better than that." He motioned for her to follow him back to his truck, where he pulled back the canvas covering. "A few things you might be able to use."
" Chairs!" she exclaimed, astonished.
" And a table, a few lamps. I can get you a sofa by Sunday afternoon."
" I can't believe you did this."
" No big deal," he said, grabbing one of the upholstered chairs and lifting it from the truck.
" It is a big deal," she said. "I don't have the money for this."
" Just say thanks," he said, starting up the path to the front door.
" I can't say thanks because I can't accept this."
" Are we going to waste time on this or can we just cut to the final scene?" He didn't break stride. "I owe you a shitload of money. I don't have it to give back to you. This is one of the ways I can pay down the debt."
" I don't know—"
" You're pregnant," he said. "You're going to get more pregnant. If you can't take this stuff for your own sake, think about the baby. You can call it a loan if it makes you feel better."
His words hit her hard. This stranger cared more than the baby 's father. She found herself softening.
It made perfect sense when she thought about it. He 'd pocketed a fair chunk of change for work he wouldn't be doing, and she could see he was the kind of man who couldn't live easily with that. Still she felt vaguely disappointed and wasn't sure why.
She walked ahead of him and unlocked the front door. "Where do you want it?" he asked as he stepped into the foyer.
" The living room," she said. "Near the window."
" Not bad," he said. "Good thing you have white walls, Everything goes with white."
Almost everything , she thought. The green-and-white plaid club chair might be pushing the envelope, but she didn't say anything. She was grateful to have something other than the floor and the staircase to sit on.
" Go do what
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