Anything You Can Do(38)

"Chicken salad sandwich," she told the clerk as he approached her. Accepting the shapeless lump, she gave the man a ten-dollar bill.

"Well, hello."

Bailey jumped at the sound of the voice behind her and whirled to see Austin. He looked cool and crisp in his white, short sleeved shirt, tie loose at his throat, jacket draped over his shoulder. She felt frumpy and disheveled.

"Hi, yourself. Out for a little lunch?" Great conversation, stupid, she berated herself. What else would he be doing in a deli at this time of day?

"Yes," he answered politely. "Care to join me?" They both looked down at the sandwich she was clutching so hard her fingers were making indentations.

"Your change, ma'am," the man behind the counter announced, extending a pudgy hand beside her face.

"Oh!" Distractedly she folded the dollar bills and the sandwich and dropped everything into her shoulder bag. Only when she saw the puzzled look on Austin's face as his gaze followed her actions did she realize what she'd done.

This wasn't going at all well. She had to get out of there. "Well, got to run," she stammered. "Nice to see you again."

Proud of herself for at least remembering her manners, she stretched her dry lips into a smile. In an attempt to maintain some semblance of poise, she wheeled away from him in a ballerina-type twirl, but somehow both feet ended up in the same spot. She staggered forward, caught her balance on a table, and race-walked toward the door, afraid to look back.

"Bailey!"

Austin's voice was the last thing she heard as she plunged out the door. The steamy heat slapped her in the face about the same time she realized her polite gesture was meaningless since she hadn't even replied to Austin's invitation. In addition to being a total klutz, she'd been unconscionably rude—again. She definitely had no business trying to play this boy-girl game. She'd best get on with the things she knew how to do or, at least, was capable of learning.

But even as she beat a retreat to the sanctuary of her office, an irritating thought niggled at her, a thought that she wasn't going to give up. Whether running, swimming, or making love, the way Austin set all her senses spinning, made her feel she'd just conquered Mount Everest, was enough to keep her trying to win at this game she knew nothing about.

*~*~*

The incessant ringing of the telephone finally broke into Bailey's concentration, and she realized it was the night number. She switched the "ring" selector on her phone to "off." She had better things to do than play receptionist.

"Why doesn't somebody answer the damn phone?"

Bailey started at the unexpected voice.

Gordon drooped in her doorway.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Did you fall asleep in the library?"

"I've been working. Are you aware that the phone has been ringing forever?" He leaned against the doorframe, a familiar pose, except now he looked exhausted instead of casual.

"The receptionist goes home at six," Bailey informed him. "If the noise bothers you, either turn your phone off or answer the blasted thing. Those are your choices. Hanging around and complaining is not on the list."

"I tried to answer it, but all I got was a dial tone."

"Punch in seven-two. It came out in a memo when we got the new system three years ago. I think it's quit ringing, though, so your question is moot." Bailey closed the file in front of her, and her voice softened. "You look terrible. I don't believe I've ever seen you tired before."

Gordon shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled. "I think I've found out what makes you so grumpy. Work. Come on, I'll walk you to the parking lot. That way, if anyone attacks us, you can save us. I'm too weak. "

Bailey stood and took Gordon's arm. "Let's go, old buddy. I'll keep you safe from the monsters."

As they left the building, it occurred to Bailey that if she and Gordon were there, Paula was home alone. "How about we stop by my place and have a couple? I'm sure Samantha and Paula would love to see you."

Gordon brightened momentarily then shook his head. "I'm dead. All I want to do is make it inside my front door and pass out on the carpet."

Bailey paused beside her car. "What brought all this on, Gordon? Did Stafford come down on you? His ire has never bothered you before."

Gordon shrugged. "It's time I made something of myself."