Trading Christmas - Debbie Macomber [102]
“I’m helping Paul with the hors d’oeuvres,” Lindy explained, “otherwise I’d be happy to stay and chat.”
“See if you can find Joe for me, would you?” She’d do it herself, but her feet were killing her.
“Sure.”
Once Lindy was gone, Cait scanned the crowded living room. Many of the guests were business associates and clients Paul had worked with over the years. Naturally everyone from the office was there, as well.
“You wanted to see me?” Joe asked, reaching her side.
“Thank you very much,” she muttered, doing her best to sound sarcastic and keep a smile on her face at the same time.
“You’re welcome.” He leaned one elbow on the fireplace mantel and grinned at her boyishly. “Might I ask what you’re thanking me for?”
“Don’t play games with me, Joe. Not now, please.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, drawing his attention to her shoes.
“Your feet hurt?” he asked, frowning.
“Walking across hot coals would be less painful than these stupid high heels.”
“Then why did you wear them?”
“Because they go with the dress. Listen, would you mind very much if we got off the subject of my shoes and discussed the matter at hand?”
“Which is?”
Joe was being as obtuse as Lindy had been. She assumed he was doing it deliberately, just to get a rise out of her. Well, it was working.
“Did you see her?” she asked with exaggerated patience.
“Not yet,” he whispered back as though they were exchanging top-secret information. “She doesn’t seem to have arrived.”
“Have you talked to Paul?”
“No. Have you?”
“Not really.” Paul had greeted them at the door, but other than that, Cait hadn’t had a chance to do anything but watch him mingle with his guests. The day at the office hadn’t been any help, either. Paul had breezed in and out without giving Cait more than a friendly wave. Since they hadn’t exchanged a single word, it was impossible for her to determine how his date had gone.
It must have been a busy day for Lindy, as well, because Cait hadn’t had a chance to talk to her, either. They’d met on their way out the door late that afternoon and Lindy had hurried past, saying she’d see Cait at Paul’s party.
“I think I’ll go help Lindy with the hors d’oeuvres,” Cait said now. “Do you want me to get you anything?”
“Nothing, thanks.” He was grinning as he strolled away, leaving Cait to wonder what he found so amusing.
Cait limped into the kitchen, leaving the polished wooden door swinging in her wake. She stopped abruptly when she encountered Paul and Lindy in the middle of a heated discussion.
“Oh, sorry,” Cait apologized automatically.
Paul’s gaze darted to Cait’s. “No problem,” he said quickly. “I was just leaving.” He stalked past her, shoving the door open with the palm of his hand. Once again the door swung back and forth.
“What was that all about?” Cait wanted to know.
Lindy continued transferring the small cheese-dotted crackers from the cookie sheet onto the serving platter. “Nothing.”
“It sounded as if you and Paul were arguing.”
Lindy straightened and bit her lip. She avoided looking at Cait, concentrating on her task as if it was of vital importance to properly arrange the crackers on the plate.
“You were arguing, weren’t you?” Cait pressed.
“Yes.”
As far as she knew, Lindy and Paul had always gotten along. The fact that they were at odds surprised her. “About what?”
“I—I gave Paul my two-week notice this afternoon.”
Cait was so shocked, she pulled out a kitchen chair and sank down on it. “You did what?” Removing her high heels, she massaged her pinched toes.
“You heard me.”
“But why? Good grief, Lindy, you never said a word to anyone. Not even me. The least you could’ve done was talk to me about it first.” No wonder Paul was angry. If Lindy left, it would mean bringing in someone new when the office was already short-staffed. With Cait and a number of other people away for the holidays, the place would be a madhouse.
“Did you receive an offer you couldn’t refuse?” Cait hadn’t had any idea her friend was unhappy at Webster, Rodale and Missen. Still, that