In a New York Minute(51)

He gave me a skeptical look.

“Seriously,” I insisted. “It’s a habit left over from college. I even have a washer and dryer in my place now, but there’s something about being out in public, watching clothes tumble around. I dunno.” I shrugged. “It helps my brain calm down. Especially if I’m stressed or angry about something.”

“Well, the next time I piss you off, I’ll be sure to leave my dirty clothes with you,” he said as he pushed his sleeves up his forearms.

“I mean, didn’t you kind of do that once already?” I teased.

My eyes caught his as he let out a surprised laugh. I loved that we could go back and forth like this; he could dish it, but he could also take it. And it dawned on me: Talking to Hayes was fun. So fun, in fact, that I’d forgotten why I was there in the first place.

“Well…” I trailed off. “Um…I’m just going to measure your windows so we can finalize the shades so…”

You’re here to work, Franny, I reminded myself. And he’s dating a blond skyscraper of human perfection. You need to let it go.

“Of course. Don’t let me hold you up,” he said with a curt nod. We were back to being cardboard cutouts, two paper dolls dancing around each other. It was probably better this way, I reasoned. This was work, nothing more. But I couldn’t help but hate the quiet left in the wake of our laughter.

I gave him a small wave and walked toward the endless windows beckoning me, ushering in the late-afternoon light. I snuck a look back to see him sitting on the floor of his office, leaning against the wall, legs long and crossed in front of him, laptop on his thighs. His focus was intense, singular, direct, and watching him stare at his computer reminded me how much I liked it when that focus was squarely on me.

I stuck my wireless headphones in and got to work measuring, photographing, and flipping over to my iPad occasionally, referring back to the mood boards I’d made. The light shifted on the wood floors below me, the shadows disappearing as the sun set lower in the sky. I got into a groove, plopping down on the floor to work, so involved in what I was doing that when I felt a hand on my shoulder, I shrieked in shock and yanked an earbud out of my ear, tossing it across the floor.

“Whoa,” was all I heard behind me. I twisted around, and there, overhead, like the sun, was Hayes.

“Sorry, you surprised me.” I shook out my shoulders, that sudden adrenaline rush still coursing through me. “I can kind of get lost in my work.”

“I get it,” he said, and then he laughed. “I thought you were about to kick my ass.”

“Maybe later,” I said, giving him a grin.

“Are you doing anything else with the roof today?” he asked. “I wanted to see if you needed help.”

I had actually planned on coming back in the morning to do more work on the garden area. But the extra hands now wouldn’t hurt, I reasoned. It only made sense. Or maybe the lusty, salivating part of my brain had stepped in and overpowered my frontal lobe. Either way, without hesitating, I said, “You think you can handle another work session with me in charge?”

He gave me a confident look. “I think I can manage one more.”

“Okay, great. I’ll meet you out there in thirty,” I said, that smile still stuck on my face.

He nodded, but before he could reply, his phone rang in his hand. “Excuse me,” he said as he walked toward his office, shutting the door behind him. Through the glass, I watched as he paced and talked, all business. Now that I knew how funny he could be, I liked it when he turned serious, focused, intense.

He looked up and caught me staring, waved a hand hi at me. I gave him a forced smile, waved back. Oh god, was he on to me? Somewhere along the path from meeting on the subway to today, things had become easy between us. He’d been so cool and aloof that day on the train, even more so during our TV interview. He’d quite literally announced that we were not each other’s types. And he’s dating someone, my brain hissed, back to being all logic and facts.

We were two strangers from different corners of the city, who were not meant to meet, much less enjoy each other’s company. But that had all changed, and somehow I’d missed the moment things shifted. And now it was too late: I was stuck liking him, and I couldn’t shake it. As I walked out through the door to the roof deck, I felt a shock of sadness. I felt silly for even feeling it, but I was going to miss seeing him when this was over.

I let out a sigh and shook out my shoulders again, as if that somehow could get rid of these feelings buzzing around inside me. Time to focus on work, Fran. I took another deep breath and got to it.

Jim and I had put planter boxes together two summers ago for his garden, and the muscle memory reignited the second I held the drill in my hand. Instead of letting my mind rehash all the reasons I should not be attracted to Hot Suit, and all the reasons he almost certainly was not into me, I concentrated on putting the small planks of wood together.

Almost exactly thirty minutes later, Hayes appeared. “Hey.” I turned to find him behind me, eyes expectant.

“Hello,” I said as my stomach gave a weird rumble. “Ready to start pouring in the soil?” I gestured over to the corner where two boxes were now fully built. “We just need to line them, and then they’re good to go.”

He nodded. “I was going to get some food delivered. Can I interest you in anything?”