Anything You Can Do(24)
Austin hesitated in his work, searching for sarcasm in Gordon's words. "Seems to me you need all the help you can get," he finally said. "What you're doing is the goofiest thing I've ever heard of. Where do you go from here? You can't leave letters in the park indefinitely." He basted the birds carefully with real butter. This was no time to think of one's arteries.
"I'm glad you asked. I've got a great idea, and since you're so eager to help, I'll include you. I take her to the park to look for her next letter, and I let you know when we're going. Then you be there waiting, and while we go check the tree, you leave flowers in her car."
Austin slid the hens into the oven and groaned. He'd never known his friend to go to so much trouble over a woman—over anything, for that matter. If a project involved effort, Gordon just left it and went on to something easier.
"Has it ever occurred to you that when Paula finds out you're writing these kooky letters, she may just decide you're nuts in addition to being a lawyer? Then she'll for sure never go out with you. Probably never speak to you again."
"I'm just trying to give her a chance to see what kind of guy I am without being blinded by her prejudice against lawyers."
Austin joined his friend on the brown leather sofa. "I'm beginning to think she may be right about attorneys."
"They're still ready to lynch you, huh?"
"They're fighting the changes." Austin noticed a small spot of butter on his crisply creased khaki slacks. He considered going home to change then discarded the idea. If he did that, Gordon might think he was unduly concerned about how he looked tonight, might think he was trying to impress Bailey. He crossed his leg over the spot. "They're stodgy," he finished, coming back to the subject at hand.
"They've done pretty good for a lot of years." Gordon leaned back and swung his legs onto the sturdy coffee table.
"But the world has changed, the practice of law has changed. If we don't change too, we'll be swallowed up by progressive firms that do. We have to streamline our work habits, cut out waste, and, of course, get a good public relations firm."
"Austin, are you sure you were sent over here because you did so well with the St. Louis office or because they wanted to get rid of you?"
"You've been hanging around your friend Bailey too long. Her abrasive personality's rubbing off." He had to do that, had to say Bailey's name aloud, as if he could thus summon her.
Gordon smiled lazily. "Old friend, if your abrasive personality didn't rub off on me over the years, I don't think I'm in any danger from Bailey. You, on the other hand—" Gordon shrugged, drained his beer can, and crushed it.
"Me on the other hand, what?" Austin sat forward, studying his friend's face closely.
"Have met your match, I'd say. I'm going to hit the shower and get all spiffied up." He stood, stretched, and looked back at Austin. "Like you. And if you keep your legs crossed, Bailey will never see that spot of butter." He strolled from the room.
Well, Austin thought, staring after his friend, either the man was awfully perceptive or he had observed the spectacle of the night before. Austin couldn't quite decide if that idea bothered him or not. But then, he couldn't quite decide what to make of the kiss either. One thing he was sure of, though. He had to take exception to Gordon's assertion that he'd met his match. She could certainly put the pressure on him, force him to give his very best, but he'd still be the ultimate winner.
True, she was mentally acute and physically trim, athletic, without an ounce of fat on her slim body. Even her rounded derriere was firm. Though, he recalled with pleasure, her breast had been soft and pliant beneath his hand, only the nipple swelling hard between his fingers.
Damn! How did he get off on that line of thought?
He forced the smile off his face before Gordon came back in and noticed.
He was in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on his Caesar salad when Bailey and Paula arrived.
"That looks wonderful," he heard Gordon enthuse. "Where did you get it? A new bakery?"
"I made it." Bailey's voice rang with indignant defiance.
Gordon laughed, but Paula interrupted. "She did. I watched. It's kind of scary, really."
Gordon had told him she would bring something frozen for dessert, that she never cooked.
He leaned into the living room, eager to see what she'd come up with. Paula, cute and perky in a denim miniskirt, held Samantha in her arms. Gordon looked amused. Bailey, striding regally, carried a cut-glass cake plate holding an incredible culinary creation.