Trust Me on This - Jennifer Crusie [41]
He grinned into her curls. “I think we both did pretty good.”
“I think we were both phenomenal.” She held him tighter. “Don’t go yet.” She kissed him on the chest, laughing a little when he drew in his breath.
“Stop distracting me,” he said. “You know, we have a decision to make here.”
Victoria sighed, and moved back to her side of the bed. “Is this about Bond again?”
“No.” Harry drew her back. “Pay attention. This is about us.”
Victoria sat up. “Us?”
Harry looked at her with alarm. “Don’t you think there’s an us?”
“Of course I think there’s an us.” Victoria swallowed. “I just didn’t think that you’d think there was an us.”
Harry looked at her in outrage. “What do you think I am, nuts?”
“Yes,” Victoria said, relaxing against his chest again. “But I’m crazy about you anyway.”
Harry sighed, and tried again. “I live in Chicago. You live in Columbus. This is not going to work.”
“We could see each other on weekends,” Victoria offered. “It’s only a forty-five-minute flight.”
Harry scowled at her. “No, we couldn’t. We have maybe twenty years left together. Less if you drive me crazy, and I kill you. We are not going to see each other on weekends.”
“Could you get a transfer?” Victoria asked.
“The fraud department doesn’t do a lot of work in Columbus,” Harry said. “Cows don’t do much investing.”
“What cows?” Victoria asked, and then went on without stopping because she knew what was coming. “You want me to quit, don’t you? You want me to give up my career. You want me to give up forty years of work.”
“Well,” Harry said, drawing away a little. “One of us is going to have to. If not you, me.”
“You’d hate not working,” Victoria said. “Alec says you’ll never retire. I can’t ask you to quit.”
“One of us is going to have to,” Harry said. “Which one?”
“Don’t make me make that decision,” Victoria said, close to tears. “That’s not fair.”
“Okay,” Harry said. “I’ll make it. You quit.”
“Dammit, Harry.” Victoria sat up, and this time Harry did too.
“Like I said, it’s a decision.” He rolled until his feet were on the floor and then he picked up his pants. “And it’s probably one we shouldn’t make naked. We can talk about this later.”
Because you have work to do, Victoria thought. But all she said was, “You’re right. Let me think about this.”
When he was gone, she fell back into the bed and closed her eyes. If she quit her job, would she even know who she was? She’d just met Harry; it would be really stupid to throw away everything on the basis of a one-night stand with a man who had the personality of sandpaper. She thought of Harry, rasping his way through life, and smiled in spite of herself. Harry or her career.
Oh, hell, she thought, and buried her head under her pillow.
At roughly the same time, Sherée woke up and peered half asleep at Bond, who was completely asleep next to her. Thank God he slept like the dead. It was the only way she’d ever kept one step ahead of him. She slid quietly from the bed and picked up his jacket from the chair next to the desk. His appointment book was where it always was—inside front breast pocket—and she flipped through it, scouring the past two days. Appointments with the marks he’d told her about last night, the Compton guy and the Prentice woman. Both of them real old-timers, Brian had said, although he’d said the woman had probably been something once. Now she was half gaga, the perfect mark.
Sherée turned to the page for today, Saturday. Dinner with Compton and Prentice again to celebrate the deal, just as he’d said, but who was “Dennie, one, in bar”? He hadn’t mentioned a Dennie. Sherée’s eyes narrowed. One of Brian’s many problems as a significant other was his interest in all women. If this Dennie was somebody he was chasing …
Brian stirred, and Sherée shoved the book in the jacket pocket and crawled back into bed. “What are you up so early for?” he muttered, trying to focus on her.
“I’m worried,” Sherée said, stalling. “I can’t sleep. What if we get caught?”
“I told you,” he mumbled, rolling away from her, “we can’t get caught. This time we’re legal.” He