The Bachelor Bid. Kate Denton

Чтение книги онлайн.

      CHAPTER THREE

      WYATT tore off a page of the yellow lined tablet he’d been doodling on and wadded it up, tossing the paper in a perfect arc toward the wastebasket where it joined a pile of other crushed missiles on the floor. At that moment Frances strode in and stopped, noting the empty wastebasket and its wreath of paper discards. “Busy today, I see. And your aim is rotten.”

      “Did you come in here for a purpose or to criticize my throwing skills?”

      “Grumpy, too.” She sat down in Wyatt’s armchair and eyed him.

      He caught her gaze. “I’m not grumpy,” he said testily.

      “What, then? You’ve been distracted all morning. Is something wrong?”

      “No, nothing.” He remained silent for a minute. “Is there any reason I should feel guilty about refusing to be part of that circus?”

      “What circus?”

      “The bachelor auction.”

      Frances studied him more closely. “No reason at all.”

      “Right.”

      “But you do?”

      “Yeah. I suppose I do.”

      “Because of Cara Breedon?”

      “What makes you come up with a crazy idea like that?” He didn’t give Frances a chance to answer. “The Rosemund Center is providing a service to kids who wouldn’t have a chance in life without—”

      “I’m sure the center is pleased to welcome you as an advocate and benefactor. Only that’s not what we’re talking about, is it?”

      Wyatt smiled ruefully. Frances could read him all too well. Still, he refused to rise to the bait. “Donations aren’t everything,” he continued. “Giving one’s time is important, too. The auction also provides good publicity for the center. That’s why I feel guilty.”

      “Of course it is.”

      “Even though I find the idea distasteful, the fact is, I could spare a couple of evenings if I felt like it.”

      “True.”

      “Well, you’re a big help. You’re supposed to tell me not to sweat it, assure me I’m too busy...blah, blah, blah, and get me off the hook. Now you’ve made it worse. Some assistant you are.”

      Frances laughed. “So fire me.”

      “Don’t tempt me.” Wyatt glanced at his watch. “Listen, tell Kenneth he may have to handle that staff meeting this afternoon. I’ll be out of the office for a while...don’t know when I’ll get back.” He reached for his jacket on the back of the chair. “See you later.”

      Despite his sermonizing to Frances about needy causes, Wyatt didn’t deceive himself any more than he had her. His remorse today didn’t bear an ounce of altruism. Oh, the Rosemund Center was a worthwhile project, all right, but he couldn’t care less about joining in the auction. What he did care about, he realized, was knowing Cara Breedon better. And the cursed auction seemed to be the only way to accomplish that.

      Cara read the spreadsheet on her computer screen. “Ah, it tallies,” she told herself. So engrossed was she in the financial report before her that when a hand from out of nowhere tapped her on the shoulder, she jumped, kicking the plug from the computer and causing the screen to go blank.

      “Oh, no!” Wheeling around, she was even more shocked and annoyed to discover Wyatt McCauley behind her. “Do you make a habit of sneaking up on people like that?” she lashed out. “This is the second time you’ve done it, and this time you scared me half to death. Just look what you made me do!” She pointed toward the screen. “All my work...gone.”

      “Sorry. Was it something important?”

      “Of course it was important!” she said, gesturing wildly. “What did you think? That I was playing computer solitaire?” Cara picked up a stack of papers and shook them at him. “Now I have to do it over.”

      “Surely you’ve been saving your work as you go along.”

      She knew what he was thinking. Anyone familiar with computers learned quickly and painfully about the perils of not backing up work, and actually, all but these last entries had been saved. She was torn over whether to appear the dunce or admit that most of the report could easily be retrieved. Unfortunately she couldn’t have it both ways. “I’ll still have to do some of it over,” she complained.

      “But not too much, I hope. Forget the report for now. Grab your purse and let’s go. Since you weren’t free for dinner last night, I’ve come to take you to lunch.”

      “I see.” If McCauley thought this dictatorial stance would get him anywhere, he had another think coming. And Cara was about to tell him so except that one glance into those penetrating brown eyes almost made her reach for her purse as directed. But then she regained her equanimity.

      Wyatt wasn’t really here for a lunch date with her. He was a successful businessman with demands on his time. Probably happened to be in the vicinity and decided to enjoy a second round of evening the score. “I don’t believe for an instant,” she added, “that you drove halfway across Austin СКАЧАТЬ