“I’m sorry,” I stammered, “of course that’s not what I—”
“In that case, yes, I think I’d better come along.”
Before I could make heads or tails of what was happening, he slid onto the seat next to me and double tapped the outside of the cab. We eased away into traffic as I leaned forward and whispered my address to the driver. In the midst of a Larchwood, East 60th Street didn’t fill me with as much pride as it normally did.
Ten minutes later, we were pulling up in front of my house. We hadn’t said a single word on the ride. The last embarrassing thing I said was still ringing in the air between us, and while Thomas seemed to find this greatly amusing, I wanted to shrivel up and die.
“This is a nice building,” he said politely as I fumbled with my keys.
I glanced at him sideways. He was probably used to going home with girls who owned the whole thing.
“Yeah, I’ve lived here for a couple of years now. It feels like home.”
“A couple of years?” he asked as we stepped inside and headed down the hall. “I thought you’d just moved here from California.”
My heart froze in my chest, and I mentally pummeled myself for my obvious mistake. Choosing to go the mature route, I pretended not to have heard and smiled politely as I opened the door and gestured him inside.
What followed was a hasty, four-second cleanup effort on my part, as I speed walked in ahead of him and grabbed the empty vodka bottles and candy wrappers off the floor. I dropped the whole lot of them behind the television and turned around with a smile just as he entered.
“Well, this is it,” I gestured around unenthusiastically. I had always liked it, but after seeing Michael’s apartment, I was thoroughly convinced the Starbucks was more comfortable.
Thomas, on the other hand, seemed to like it a lot. He glanced around curiously, eyes soaking in every detail as I hurried to put on more coffee and clear away a space in the kitchen for us to work.
“We can set up in here if you like,” I called, placing the two chairs at opposite ends of the long table. No need to give him the wrong impression after my slip-up earlier.
He stuck his head inside, but after seeing the sterile place I’d prepared, he glanced back out at the big sofa in the living room. “Actually, all we really need is the computer. What would you say to working somewhere a little more comfortable?”
I froze in place, before reminding myself to play it cool. “That would be great.”
I followed him out to the living room, automatically slipping off my uncomfortable shoes and jacket as I settled onto the couch. The lighting was much dimmer in here, just two softly lit lamps that gave everything a rather intimate glow. I nervously tucked my hair behind my ears and pulled the laptop out of my bag, but he took it gently from my hands and set it up himself, opening up the document as he balanced it on his legs.
“So,” he began, as he started typing, “you’ve lived here for a few years...?”
I bit my lip nervously, but his eyes merely twinkled as he finished up a page. “Check the company records,” I said innocently. “I think you’ll find I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
He actually chuckled under his breath. “Well, there’s no doubt about that. This is some first class writing, Miss Harks.”
“Please,” I said, feeling a little embarrassed, “it’s Jenna.”
There was a pause as he stopped typing and looked up at me over the computer. Our eyes met, and for the second time that night, he gave me a genuine smile.
“Jenna.” He held out a hand. “Tom.”
Laughing softly, we shook hands before dropping our eyes quickly back to our work.
Rather, he returned to our work, and I sat idly on the couch, wondering why he’d purposely taken only the laptop and left our papers behind. It didn’t give me any way to help—placing the entire impossible job on his shoulders. I was about to sneak back to the kitchen on a ‘coffee break’ to grab my briefcase when the computer screen caught my attention.
I’m sorry...did I say impossible job?
His hands were flying along at a speed that put both Michael and me to shame, blowing through page after page as he pulled facts and dates from memory, barely even paying attention. My eyes widened in astonishment, and I instantly understood the reason behind all the articles, all the Wall Street gossip that claimed he was a genius.