Chapter 15

I should just close up my computer and bag it for the rest of the day.

The thought had been running through Liz's mind for the past half hour, especially when she realized she'd had the same page up on her screen all. She figured she'd read the really awful but touching poem at least a hundred times. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. Matt had been a lot of things that she really loved, but a romantic had never been one of them. Yet he'd gone to all this trouble to send her a message.

Could she trust it? Had he really changed or was he just trying to resurrect the past because his future had been torpedoed. Of course he had gotten Chad Hallowell to sign that photo and deliver everything here to her.

God! She was such an idiot. All these years and he could still push all her buttons. She should be strong, hold her ground, tell him it was too late. The damage had already been done. But her treacherous heart was sending her messages that she didn't seem to be able to ignore. Not to mention snippets of her recent erotic dream that kept popping up.

"Are you planning to stare at that all day?" Dana's amused voice cut into her thoughts.

She jerked and knocked the sheet of paper sideways. She bent down to pick it up, taking the time to compose herself. It wouldn't do to let Dara get a look at her face. The woman could read her like a book.

"Uh, sorry." She folded up the poem and stuck it in her desk drawer. "I was just working up an idea for the Coulter party.

"Sure you were." Dara's voice was laced with amusement. "That's why there's nothing on the screen."

"I, um, was thinking. I do my best thinking with a blank screen."

Dara laughed out loud. "Sounds good but I'm not buying."

"No. Really," she insisted.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tell me another tall tale." She swept her arm across the desk, accidentally knocking Liz's coffee over, spilling it on her desk and her lap. "Oh, shit. Damn and shit."

Liz jumped up. "Damn and shit is right. Holy crap, Dara. Now look."

Dara hurried into the back room where she grabbed a handful of paper towels. She used part of them to mop the desk and gave the rest to Liz to blot the moisture on her new dress slacks.

"Crap, crap, crap," Liz muttered again. "Now I'll have to go home and change. If someone comes in I can't let them see me like this."

"Someone like Matt Vorchak?" Dara teased. "Who knows, but he might show up again today."

"With his damn Cup and who knows what else." She wadded the towels, threw them in her wastebasket and looked down at the coffee stains on her clothing. "Hell."

"Okay." Dara threw away the rest of the towels. "That's it. We're done here for the day. Your brain is in outer space anyway."

"Is not," Liz protested. Damn that Matt Vorchak.

"Is, too."

"Are you crazy?" Liz stared at her. "We can't just leave the office in the middle of a work day."

"Why not? We're the bosses. We can do anything we want."

"B-But people might come to see us, and we won't be here. How will that look?"

"For the number of walk-ins we get I'm not worried. Listen. We worked our asses off yesterday and there's nothing on the calendar today except for follow up work. That can wait. So I've got an idea."

"Oh, god." Liz groaned. "What? Your ideas can be kind of crazy."

"But fin," Dara reminded her. "Remember that gift certificate we got to the spa from Shelley Morrison?"

"Sure. Her extra thank you for making her party so special."

"I remind you it's for Queen For a Day, a place we are a good ways from being able to afford ourselves. I'm going to call and see if they can take us. It's the middle of the week so hopefully no problem."

"And what will we do there? I mean besides hair and nails?"

Dara laughed. "Anything we want. Hot stone massages, hand massages, the works. They order in lunch if you want, and - " She grinned at Liz. "They have a little boutique attached to them. We can find you something chic to replace your outfit you drenched with coffee."

"A little boutique where everything probably costs an arm and a leg," Liz grumped.

"Oh, can it, Lizzie. We haven't done anything for ourselves since we opened a year ago. And maybe it will get your mind off Matt Vorchak."

"My mind's not on him," she insisted. Liar. "And don't call me Lizzie." She narrowed her eyes at Dara. "I'm, not sure I trust you. Have you got something up your sleeve?"

Dara laughed and lifted her arms, looking down the length of each one. "Nope. Nothing but some very special treatment for two hardworking career women." She reached around Liz and closed the empty document on her screen. "Come on. We owe it to ourselves. We've had really good luck lately but it left us with no free time. We deserve to play hooky for an afternoon. And spend a few bucks on ourselves."

"But - "

"But nothing." She reached around Liz and shut down her computer. "Come on. I'm going to forward all the calls to my cell. No, not yours," she added, when Liz opened her mouth. "Your mind's not on work today."

Liz listened while her partner called the spa and set up their appointments, then forwarded their office phone to her cell. Before she could find something else to object to, she was hustled out of the office and seated in Dara's sporty little convertible, heading toward Queen for a Day.

Why do I have this feeling someone's pulling my strings? I think my day is exploding beyond my control.

And somehow I'm convinced it's all Matt's fault.