Christmas Every Day Part 11

Nik detected the defensive note in her voice and saw a similar look in her eyes before her expression melded into an amused look.

"I could ask you the same question, you know. It's what?" She twisted her wrist to get a better look at her watch. "Ten-forty. You've been here a long time."

She probably enjoyed arguing more than she enjoyed breathing, he thought. Nik decided to oblige her. He rested a hip against the corner of her desk. "I own the place. What's your excuse?"

"I won't be here tomorrow, remember? I thought I'd do as much as I could. Besides-" She pushed away from the desk. Suddenly he seemed to be crowding into her s.p.a.ce, and she needed air. " " I found your creative bookkeeping utterly fascinating. "

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and tried to get at the gist of her meaning. "Creative bookkeeping is a term usually reserved for people serving five to seven in Folsom"

The sound of her laughter drifted to his ears like snowflakes from the sky. "I didn't mean to make it sound as if I suspected you of having two sets of books." She tapped the closest file. " " One set like this would be hard enough to come up with. "

She looked at the sea of folders on the floor that she'd already gone through. A myriad of others fanned out across the desk. More waited within the metal cabinet drawers. She repressed a shudder. "Does the word organization mean anything to you? "

Nik had never reacted well to criticism. Now was no exception He lifted a brow. "The restaurant is organized. It's just the paperwork that isn't."

"Now there's an understatement." She sighed, stretching again. She was tired. Lifting her head, Sara saw the way his eyes were gliding over her, and felt a warm shiver weave through. She was flattered. And just the tiniest bit on guard. " " You're watching me. "

"Sorry." Caught, he made no effort to look away. "You're the only thing in the room that's moving."

She let out another sigh and leaned over the keyboard. Pressing a combination of keys, she stored the material she had spent hours inputting. When she returned, she was going to have to look into getting all this set up differently. What Nik had, working from the old disks that remained and an old copy of the software program, was far too c.u.mbe_rsome

Hitting the last key with a flourish, she leaned back. "I guess I've slaved enough for one day." She switched off the machine, then looked up at Nik. "You've gotten your pound of flesh."

He didn't care for the insinuation. "I didn't ask for a pound of flesh," he reminded her. "I just asked for competence "

Saying thank-you probably would have killed him, she thought. Sara shrugged nonchalantly. "Consider it a bonus"

He still had no idea why she had come in so early or why she had stayed so late. As he'd said, it wasn't her restaurant And the pay was good, but she wasn't working to impress him so that he would give her a raise. They both knew this arrangement was temporary.

The woman was a complete enigma.

Sara had told him the truth, but only in part. She'd stayed longer because his way of keeping records had been unorthodox and haphazard at best and it was a challenge to get things organized. She enjoyed challenges. But that wasn't the only reason she'd stayed here hours longer than she should have. She wanted something to occupy her mind.

Something to keep her busy and to keep all thoughts of her father and tomorrow at bay. She didn't want to think about tomorrow. Not tomorrow or all the yesterdays that had been missed. She really didn't want to think about her father at all.

She suddenly realized that he wasn't wearing his ap.r.o.n. "You going home?" He nodded. She moved aside several files on the floor and opened the bottom drawer, where she'd tossed in her purse. It was time for her to go, too. She couldn't very well sleep here. "I guess I've made enough headway for one day."

Nik crossed to the doorway. He was about to leave, but something was holding him back. He looked over his shoulder at her and heard himself saying something he'd no idea he was going to say until the words came out. "Buy you a cup of coffee?"

White teeth flashed in a grin that was just the slightest bit off center. "Seeing as how you own the restaurant, that's mighty big of you: '

He wondered if there was someone special in her life and if there was, how the man put up with her. "Do you ever give it a rest? "

Sara grinned even more broadly in response. Maybe he was right. She was sparring just a wee bit too much, even for her.

She ran her fingers through her cropped hair and laughed. "Sometimes."

She turned her face up to his, amus.e.m.e.nt highlighted there at his expense. "Yes, I'd love a cup of coffee." Her eyes fluttered shut for a second as she envisioned the hot liquid winding down her throat and the heat pouring through her veins. "Warm and creamy and rich."

She made drinking a cup of coffee sound erotic. For a second, just for a second, he was tempted to touch her face, to let his fingers slide down her cheek and vicariously share the experience with her.

Nik fell back on the only thing he knew well. "I thought you didn't care for food."

Sara opened her eyes. "Coffee's not food, it's a religion. I couldn't live without it." Grabbing the straps of her purse , she lifted it from the drawer and followed him out the door. "Got any cappuccino?"

Because it was late and she was new, he decided not to be insulted by the question. "Yes, we have cappuccino. Since you're such a coffee aficionado, I'll give you a choire Sinclair's has ten different kinds of coffee to choose from: '

Without thinking she linked her arm through his and laughed, her hair brushing lightly against his chest. The skin underneath his shirt tingled. He thought maybe it was the fabric softener he'd used with the last wash. "Ten? I think I may be in love with you: '

The word echoed and vibrated inside him, startling Nik into silence. He began to wonder who this woman was and what she really thought. He had a feeling that there were layers here that needed to be peeled back before he had his answer.

When Nik and Sara walked into the kitchen Antonio looked up, surprised.

He set the large pot he was holding down on the table as his eyes narrowed. "I thought I told you to go home."

Nik nodded at Sara. He saw the way Antonio's eyes slid appreciatively up and down Sara's well-rounded, diminutive frame. Lucky thing Antonio was a family man, he thought.

"Our newest employee wants some coffee," Nik explained

"Temporary employee," she interjected. Dropping her hand away from Nik, she moved toward Antonio. She shook his hand warmly, both her small hands covering his. "Hi, I'm Sara Santangelo."

Antonio's face lit up. He knew it. "Ah, Italian."

And so was he, she guessed, by the look of him. "Half," she corrected.

Antonio was unabashedly prejudiced. He kissed his fingers , then spread them wide, as if the kiss had suddenly taken wing and sprung up away from them. "Always the best half."

Nik turned to Sara just then and saw that her cheeks were flushed, not in embarra.s.sment-he didn't think her capable of that-but in fleeting annoyance. Why? He found himself wanting to unravel the riddle that she was beginning to represent.

Rather than recite the different types of coffee he had available, Nik picked up a menu that was lying on the side. One of the waitresses had brought it in. There was a small rip on one of the pages, which meant it was to be discarded Nik liked things to be as perfect as humanly possible

He handed the menu to Sara and pointed to the last page. He heard her antic.i.p.atory sigh.

"Mocha mint with whipped cream sounds heavenly."

"Mocha mint it is." Nik turned to where the well-polished row of coffee machines stood in the rear of the room like a vanguard of gleaming knights. They could produce five hundred cups of coffee at will.

Antonio grabbed Nik's sleeve. "You go outside with the pretty lady. I fix the coffee. Go." He was all but shooing Nik out of the room the way a farmer's wife shooed away an aggressive chicken in the barnyard.

Nik could see exactly what was on Antonio's mind, but this was no time to get in a discussion over it. Instead, he took Sara's arm and urged her toward the inner door that led back into the dining room.

She looked at the old man as he began to prepare two cups. "Does he order you around like that often?"

Nik smiled. "When I first started out, Antonio was working for an exclusive restaurant in Beverly Hills. I was his apprentice chef. All thumbs and eager to learn, with two kid sisters to provide for."

Sara heard the affection in his voice and it warmed her without her realizing it.

"He showed me the ropes. Stayed after hours to teach me things you don't pick up in cookbooks. He didn't have to do that. When I got Sinclair's going, I asked him to come work for me." Nik's mouth curved fondly as he looked over his shoulder at the other man's back. " " He still thinks of me as that kid he took under his wing. No harm in that. The way I figure it, I owe him. "

Nik led Sara to a secluded booth in the main dining room. There were only a handful of couples left, all lingering over their desserts or after-dinner drinks, moved by the company and the atmosphere.