LITMIR.BIZ

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would, except for one thing.” The gleam reappeared in his eye. “I’m the association president.”

      He had to be kidding.

      “The other tenants didn’t want to be bothered with building maintenance issues so they gladly let me handle everything,” he continued. He unfolded his arms, jamming one hand in his back pocket and letting the other rest off the hammer handle. “Come to think of it, that’s probably why they don’t mind the banging.”

      “Unbelievable,” Sophie muttered.

      “Not really. Not when I’m the best person for the job. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some tiles I need to take down.” He reached for the door.

      “Wait!” She shoved her bare foot forward to block the door. Thankfully he noticed. “What about the banging? What am I supposed to do until you’re finished?”

      “The store around the corner sells noise-canceling headphones. If I were you, I’d consider checking them out.”

      Sophie barely had time to slide her foot back before the door slammed in her face.

      Five o’clock came early, and it came even earlier on Monday morning. Earlier still since Sophie had spent until almost 1:00 a.m. making sure the last round of revisions were done and in Breckinridge’s in-box before going to bed. Much as she longed to sleep in and make up for the late hours, she couldn’t. The overseas markets were already entering their volatile hours and she was expected to know what was going on. That is, she expected it of herself. She didn’t want to risk the chance she’d get caught off guard. Being prepared was something she prided herself on, like being efficient and goal-oriented. Although all three would be a lot easier with more than four hours’ sleep.

      Then again, a lack of sleep came with the territory. If you wanted to get ahead, you put in the hours.

      And, she intended to get ahead. So far ahead that eventually Pond Street and all the other ghosts from her past were nothing more than vague, faded images. Then once she’d made it, she’d retire early and sleep in all the mornings she wanted. She was already halfway along her timetable and if the rumors were true and Raymond Twamley was planning to step aside, she could be even closer. A full two years ahead of her schedule.

      Until then, she’d always have coffee. She flipped off the plastic lid to see how much of the lifesaving liquid she had left. A quarter of caramel-colored liquid greeted her. Interesting, she thought. Her neighbor’s eyes had been a similar color, especially when they’d taken on that flirtatious gleam. Not that she cared. The man had shut his door in her face, the hot-looking, rude…

      “Reading tea leaves?”

      She didn’t have to look up to know who was asking. While normally she made a point of maintaining a professional distance from her colleagues, David Harrington was the one exception. A member of the firm’s legal department, he had introduced himself at the company Christmas party a few years earlier, and she’d quickly discovered he made the perfect companion. “More like trying to see if I could absorb the caffeine through my eyeballs,” she muttered.

      A slight frown crossed his rangy features. “That’s obviously not going to happen.”

      No kidding, Sophie almost said aloud, before quickly biting the words back. Normally she found David’s tendency to be painstakingly literal easy to deal with, but lack of sleep had her tired and quick-tempered. It was going to take a lot of caffeine to keep her pleasant and reasonable all day.

      Proving her point to herself, she took a long drink from her cup.

      The silver-haired lawyer settled himself on the edge of the desk. Despite the early hour, he looked perfectly put together in his gray suit and aquamarine tie. But then, he always looked put together. He didn’t have to try to look professional; he simply was.

      “I stopped by to see how you were doing. You sounded pretty stressed when you cancelled our dinner date Saturday,” he explained.

      Sophie felt a little stab of guilt. “I am sorry about that,” she replied. “Allen had the whole office running in circles all weekend. I barely had time to breathe.”

      He waved off her apology. “Forget it. I know all about Allen’s demands. We’ll try that particular restaurant another time.”

      “Thank you for understanding.” One of the things she appreciated about David was that he did understand these things. He was also unflappable, professional and career-focused. Uncomplicated. That was the best word for him. True, he wasn’t the most thrilling man in the world and the physical aspects of their relationship wouldn’t inspire love songs, but he was exactly the kind of man she would choose if and when it came time to think about a long-term relationship.

      “I would have been lousy company even without Allen’s last-minute project,” she told him. “I was having neighbor problems. Remember the banger?” Briefly she filled him in on her encounter with G. Templeton, starting with the banging and ending with their abrupt goodbye. For obvious reasons, she left out the part about his biceps and flirtatious grin.

      As she expected, David was appropriately outraged. “He just shut the door in your face? Without saying goodbye?”

      “Clearly he felt he’d said all there was to say.”

      “More like he wanted to avoid the discussion. I’m guessing you weren’t the first neighbor to complain.”

      “He says I am.”

      “Nonsense. Bet you ten dollars when the tenant association meets, there are lots of complaints.”

      “Doubtful. Turns out he’s the head of the association. The other residents didn’t want the hassle,” she added when David’s eyes widened.

      Picking up her discarded coffee lid, she twirled the plastic circle between her fingers. “Looks like I’m stuck listening to the banging until he finishes his project.”

      “What exactly is he doing anyway?”

      She shrugged. “This week? Gutting his bathroom.” To install a claw-foot tub. She couldn’t get that particular image out of her head any more than she could erase the picture of his biceps flexing as he swung the sledgehammer.

      Quickly she slapped the lid on her cup. “Whatever he was doing, the noise kept up the rest of the afternoon,” she told David. “Then on Sunday, he spent the day hauling away the debris—” which sounded suspiciously like bags of cement blocks “—making sure he set them down as loudly as possible outside my door.” Every time Sophie had heard the noise, she’d been jerked from her thoughts and swore he was doing so on purpose.

      “Poor baby. No wonder you were aggravated. You should have said something when I called. You could have come to my place.”

      “I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Sophie replied, knowing she wouldn’t. Why was everyone so eager for her to go somewhere else? Why couldn’t they understand that she wanted to spend her weekends in her own home? Besides, hers and David’s relationship worked perfectly the way it was. She wasn’t ready to complicate matters by spending weekends together.

      “In the meantime,” she said, raising her cup to her lips, “thanks to spending the weekend on Allen’s project, I’m behind on everything else.”

      “Including this morning’s status report?”

      Ignoring the fact he was interrupting their conversation, Allen Breckinridge strolled into her office. Sophie swallowed her mouthful of coffee. Naturally the managing director would arrive at the exact moment she mentioned being behind. The man had an uncanny knack for arriving at exactly the wrong time. Made her forever jumpy.

      “Good morning, Allen,” David greeted brightly. He was never jumpy. “Did you have a good weekend?”

      “Good enough. Jocelyn and I spent it at the Hamptons,” Allen replied. “About that progress report…”

      “Right

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