Hearts Divided (Cedar Cove #5.5)(34)
She gathered up her books and slung her purse over her shoulder, making a mental note to confirm with the student editor about using the Opinions section of the university newspaper. She’d promised her class the winning essay would be published in the column, and the editor had agreed.
The lectern-level exit door stood ajar, letting fresh air and the scent of flowers into the hall. With her arms full, Chloe bumped the door with her shoulder to open it and the heavy metal panel crashed into something solid just outside.
“Hey!”
Chloe peered around the edge of the door. The janitor perched on the ladder grabbed the wall next to the empty light socket above the doorjamb.
“Are you all right, Fred?”
“Yeah.” The dour, midfifties man frowned, his carrot-colored brows pulling down into a V over his beaky nose. “The light bulb isn’t, though.”
Chloe followed his gaze. Pieces of shattered glass lay on the concrete sidewalk. “I didn’t see you there behind the door. I’m so sorry.”
Fred grunted an acknowledgment and descended to the walkway. “I’ll have to go to the maintenance shop and get another bulb. I’m leaving the ladder here.”
He paused, looking at her pointedly, and Chloe waved at the lawn and busy campus beyond. “It’s safe from me. I’m going to my office.”
“Uh-huh.”
He eyed her suspiciously before Chloe walked briskly away. The taciturn man had worked at Liberty Hall, her campus office building, for the past year and he had yet to warm up to any casual conversation beyond “hello.” She glanced over her shoulder. He was moving the ladder, carefully arranging it against the side wall. Then he took a small hand broom and dustpan from his toolbox, knelt down and began to sweep up the broken glass.
He takes his job so personally, she thought. As though the university is his own private place. But then, that’s probably a good trait in a janitor.
Jake Morrissey shaded his eyes with one hand. Despite his sunglasses, the Las Vegas sun was blinding, and he narrowed his eyes against the glare. The searing heat of the desert city was light years away from the cooler Puget Sound region he’d left yesterday.
He’d flown out of SeaTac airport on a red-eye express to Las Vegas barely twelve hours after he’d met Chloe Abbott at the UW Medical Center. There hadn’t been time to talk to her again, although he could’ve called her today, either on his cell or the hotel room phone. But like most of the jobs he took on, imploding the multistory casino-hotel was complicated and required all his attention. He wanted the work completed and out of the way so he could focus on Chloe. He’d grabbed three hours of sleep at the hotel before heading for the job site with his crew, already looking forward to finishing and flying home.
He hadn’t met a woman who intrigued him this much in years. Maybe never. The half hour he’d spent talking with Chloe and her grandmother had only increased his interest.
Chloe Abbott was beautiful, sexy, smart and had a quick, wry sense of humor. He was positive the attraction was mutual, but he was too far away to act on it.
He wanted her within reach when he talked to her, not a thousand miles away. Her grandmother had mentioned that Chloe lived in Queen Anne, a Seattle district only a ten-or fifteen-minute drive from the industrial end of First Avenue where his building was located.
Setting the explosives to implode the old casino would take roughly five more days. He’d be on a flight back to Seattle by the time the dust settled.
Two
“So tell me about the guy in the Tribune photo with you and Gran,” Alexie demanded as she closed the freezer door in Winifred’s kitchen. Ice-cream container in hand, she pulled open a drawer.
Chloe groaned silently. That photo. How on earth had the photographer managed to make it look as if Jake was nibbling her ear? She lifted the cake out of its box. “I’m guessing you’re referring to the photos taken at the medical center?” Her older sister wasn’t likely to be distracted enough to drop the subject of Jake Morrissey, but Chloe tried.
“Drank it in with my morning latte. Nice article, by the way,” Alexie said.
“I think so, too. The reporter did a great job and I loved that she included Gran’s background as a codebreaker during World War II.” Chloe slipped the three-tiered chocolate cake onto a heavy crystal cake stand.
“Yes, nice touch. Are you about ready with that?”
“I just need to put the candles on top.” Chloe quickly poked ten short pink candles into the dark chocolate frosting, eyed the arrangement critically, then nodded with approval.
“Let’s get back to you explaining the hot guy nibbling on your ear.”
“I was hoping you’d forget.”
“No chance. Who is he?”
“Didn’t you read the caption under the picture?”
“Of course—it gave me his name, rank and how long he’s been a civilian. What I want to hear from you is how you feel about him.”
“What do you mean how I feel about him? I just met him! We spent maybe twenty minutes talking, and most of the conversation was about the medical center and Gran. I don’t even know him.” Not that I don’t want to, Chloe thought. She pulled open two drawers before she located a book of matches. She tucked them into the pocket of her retro, swingy pink skirt and picked up the cake plate.
Alexie’s huff of disbelief spoke volumes. “The expression on Jake Morrissey’s face in that photo practically singed the edges of my morning paper and you have nothing to tell me about him? The man was kissing your ear.”