Trading Christmas - Debbie Macomber [67]
“I suppose we could move you….” Paul hesitated.
“Your office seems to be the best choice,” the foreman said.
Cait resisted the urge to hug the man. He was tall, easily six three, and as solid as Mount Rainier, the majestic mountain she could see from her office window. She hadn’t paid much attention to him until this moment and was surprised to note something vaguely familiar about him. She’d assumed he was the foreman, but she wasn’t certain. He seemed to be around the office fairly often, although not on a predictable schedule. Every time he did show up, the level of activity rose dramatically.
“Ah…I suppose Cait could move in with me for the time being,” Paul agreed. In her daydreams, Cait would play back this moment; her version had Paul looking at her with surprise and wonder, his mouth moving toward hers and—
“Miss?”
Cait broke out of her reverie and glanced at the foreman—the man who’d suggested she share Paul’s office. “Yes?”
“Would you show us what you need moved?”
“Of course,” she returned crisply. This romantic heart of hers was always getting her into trouble. She’d look at Paul and her head would start to spin with hopes and fantasies and then she’d be lost….
Cait’s arms were loaded with files as she followed the carpenters, who hauled her desk into a corner of Paul’s much larger office. Her computer and phone came next, and within fifteen minutes she was back in business.
She was on the phone, talking with one of her most important clients, when the same man walked back, unannounced, into the room. At first Caitlin assumed he was looking for Paul, who’d stepped out of the office. The foreman—or what ever he was—hesitated for a few seconds. Then, scooping up her nameplate, he grinned at her as if he found something highly entertaining. Cait did her best to ignore him, flipping needlessly through the pages of the file.
Not taking the hint, he stepped forward and plunked the nameplate on the edge of her desk. As she looked up in annoyance, he boldly winked at her.
Cait was not amused. How dare this…this…redneck flirt with her!
She glared at him, hoping he’d have the good manners and good sense to leave—which, of course, he didn’t. In fact, he seemed downright stubborn about staying and making her as uncomfortable as possible. Her phone conversation ran its natural course and after making several notations, she replaced the receiver.
“You wanted something?” she demanded, her eyes meeting his. Once more she noted his apparent amusement. She didn’t understand it.
“No,” he answered, grinning again. “Sorry to have bothered you.”
For the second time, Cait was struck by a twinge of the familiar. He strolled out of her makeshift office as if he owned the building.
Cait waited a few minutes, then approached Lindy. “Did you happen to catch his name?”
“Whose name?”
“The…man who insisted I vacate my office. I don’t know who he is. I thought he was the foreman, but…” She crossed her arms and furrowed her brow, trying to remember if she’d heard anyone say his name.
“I have no idea.” Lindy pushed back her chair and rolled a pencil between her palms. “He is kinda cute, though, don’t you think?”
A smile softened Cait’s lips. “There’s only one man for me and you know it.”
“Then why are you asking questions about the construction crew?”
“I…don’t know. That guy seems familiar for some reason, and he keeps grinning at me as if he knows something I don’t. I hate it when men do that.”
“Then ask one of the others what his name is. They’ll tell you.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“He might think I’m interested in him.”
“And we both know how impossible that would be,” Lindy said with mild sarcasm.
“Exactly.” Lindy and probably everyone else in the office complex knew how Cait felt about Paul. The district manager himself, however, seemed to be completely oblivious. Other than throwing herself at him, which she’d seriously considered more than once, there was little she could do but be patient.