Chapter Three

On Friday of her first week, Jewell opened her desk drawer at 12:22 and scowled at the cold sandwich and bag of chips she"d grabbed that morning. She"d eaten at her desk every day since Monday, when she"d nearly gone bankrupt buying a salad in the company café. She held out until nearly one, when her stomach declared with a loud rumble that it would be fed, and now. The door to both Mr. Roth"s office and the main bullpen were open, but the only sound she heard was the mix of keys clicking, phones ringing, and low conversation that prevailed in the big room.

The sandwich still held no appeal, so she shoved back from her desk and went to Mr. Roth"s door, glancing inside the empty office. His laptop sat on the desk, open, but with the security password screen showing. She had learned quickly that if he didn"t have a lunch meeting, he ate at his desk, if he ate at all. Part of her had hoped he was there and she could convince him to escape for lunch. With a sigh, Jewell turned and left her office through the door leading to the backside of April"s desk just as April came down the wide corridor down the center of the bullpen.

"Hey," April said with an open smile, setting her purse on the inside of her desk wall. "Did you need something?"

"Yes, something decent to eat for lunch."

"Have you been down to the cafeteria?"

Jewell snorted a laugh. "Yeah, tried a salad?—"

"Ouch," April interrupted, wrinkling her nose. "You don"t have to say anything else. I"ve had one of those salads you need to rob a bank to pay for. Do you want to get out for a while?"

Jewell folded her arms on the high ledge of the desk and looked down at April as she settled in front of her computer. "Is it bad that I"ve only been here a few days and I"m already going a bit stir crazy?"

April laughed, logging into her system. "No. At least you can get out this time of year. A few more months and you"ll need a full-body snowsuit just to cross the street."

"Guess I should escape while I can. Any suggestions?"

"Depends. What are you in the mood for?"

Jewell groaned. "Anything but the sandwich in my desk drawer."

"Bertucci"s is just around the corner and down a block. They have this amazing chicken allegro salad."

"Sounds good to me," Jewell said, slapping her hand on the desk. "Point me in the right direction."

Minutes later, Jewell stepped into the bright sunlight of a Boston summer afternoon and slipped on her sunglasses. The humid air hit her in a wave of moist heat, and she swore she felt the hair at the nap of her neck instantly curl into tight ringlets. Unbuttoning her jacket, she shrugged it off and let the sun heat her bare arms. The collar of her shell hugged her throat, but at least she could find some relief from the warmth by carrying the blazer. Another six weeks and autumn would fully hit New England, and she"d need the jacket, but for today it was just too much.

By the time she walked the three blocks, a fine sheen of perspiration dampened her neck and she was thankful to step inside the air-conditioned restaurant. The overpowering smell of garlic, roasted tomatoes, olive oil, and yeasty crust greeted her, and she inhaled. Her stomach immediately growled, rumbling almost painfully, and she weaved through the patrons and tables to the order counter. A dozen or so tables filled the small space, covered with red and white checkerboard tablecloths, with only three occupied at the end of the city"s lunch hour.

"What can I get you?" asked a young man of maybe twenty, with slightly stringy hair parted down the middle and a mild case of acne.

"I hear your chicken allegro salad is to die for," Jewell said with a smile.

"Just find a seat. We"ll get it right out."

A small table with two chairs sat in front of the large window that looked out on Market Street. Jewell draped her jacket on the back of the chair and sat. A waitress arrived almost immediately with a glass of ice water. "Thank you." Jewell took the glass before the woman could set it down. "It never ceases to amaze me how someone can get so thirsty when you could wring water right out of the air."

The waitress laughed as Jewell drank half the glass of water, the cold making her head ache just a little but not nearly enough to stop. "Do you want anything else to drink?"

"No, just more of this."

She nodded and walked away. The air in the restaurant was at least twenty degrees colder than outside, but Jewell still felt flushed from the short walk. She leaned back in her chair, indulging for a moment by pressing the condensation-coated glass to her cheek.

A sharp rap on the window made her jump, and she nearly spilled the water down her front. Jewell smiled when she saw Benjamin standing outside beneath the green restaurant canopy, his eyes hidden behind dark shades. His straight lip tipped up at one corner for that hint of a smile he teased her with. She motioned him inside and he pulled open the door, letting in a gust of thick air. He slipped off his sunglasses as he sat, dropping them on the tabletop. In practically the same motion, he took her glass of water and turned it to drink from the side she"d drank from. In three deep gulps he drained the ice water and set it down with a deep sigh.

Jewell chuckled, and tried to ignore the slow heat infusing her cheeks. "Are you on your way back to the office?"

He nodded. "I was downtown running errands."

"Have you eaten?"

He nodded again, but his eyes shifted down to her bare arms before he looked her in the eyes again. "Did you just get here?"

The waitress returning with Jewell"s lunch interrupted her chance to answer. She set down the plate, followed by two more glasses of water. "Can I get you anything else? Would you like something, sir?"

Benjamin never looked away from Jewell and missed the question. Hoping the dim lighting in the restaurant hid her flush, Jewell quickly signed the question and pointed to the waitress, indicating she had spoken. He finally looked up and shook his head.

"No, thank you."

The waitress smiled again and walked away, but Jewell felt suddenly self-conscious about eating the salad with Benjamin sitting there. The way he watched her was a step beyond what she was used to, even for someone who communicated through body language and lip reading, and the glint in his eyes—barely suppressed—had nothing to do with wanting to know what she said. One part of her knew alarms should have been going off in her head, that bosses shouldn"t be looking at her like that. If she didn"t enjoy the flutter of awareness that hit her every time he gave her that "almost smile," she"d probably listen.

"Do you want some?" she asked, picking up her fork.

"I"m fine, but I"ll keep you company if you don"t mind. If you"re not in the office, no need for me to rush back."

Jewell froze, her lips open and her fork full of gemelli and tomato in front of her mouth. "Did you need me to do something? I can have this boxed up and head back right away."

He held up his hand, then switched to sign. "No, I just meant that…" He paused, his hands in front of him, palm up, as he considered. Then his almost grin turned into a full-fledged smile and he leaned forward slightly. "I mean that there"s no rush."

* * *

Benjamin had plenty to do in the office. His day was filled with reviewing reports, compiling data, and watching various markets as they closed, and opened, depending on the market. But he considered it a stroke of luck that on the one day he wandered outside of Bulwark he would run into Jewell, just sitting in a restaurant, all alone.

She was flushed, bright color blooming in her pale cheeks, and tiny ringlets escaped the french braid that hugged her skull to sprinkle across her brow and along her cheeks. As warm as the day was, he hoped that perhaps he was responsible for the pretty blush and the nervous flutter of her hands. It was wrong, he knew it was wrong, but he couldn"t help himself and didn"t want to try.

"I feel like I"m holding you up, Benjamin," she said, poking her fork around in the remains of her pasta and chicken. "I peeked in your office before I left to see if you wanted to come with me?—"

"You did?"

She nodded, looking at him through her lashes as she created a new bite. He noted how she made sure each bite had at least two pieces of pasta, a piece of chicken, and either a tomato or an olive. Sometimes both, but she was running out of olives. Taking the bite, she set down her fork and wiped her lips with a napkin before signing. "Don"t you go stir-crazy eating at your desk every day?"

"I"ve never thought about it."

Jewell sat back, dropping her napkin on the remains of her lunch left on her plate. Her smile made his pulse jump, and he liked it. "I believe I"m going to need to get you out of the office more often, Mr. Roth," she signed, feigning a serious expression as she wagged a finger at him. "It"s my duty as your executive assistant."

"I don"t recall that in your job description."

"I"m taking the initiative."

He was saved from making a completely inappropriate comment, one that was sure to bring a new flush of color to her pale cheeks, by the return of the waitress. Benjamin didn"t bother to look up, keeping his attention on Jewell. She looked at the waitress, shook her head, and waved a hand at the empty plate. The waitress took it and set the bill on the counter. Jewell reached for it, but Benjamin was faster. He grinned at the shocked look on her face.

"Hey, now. You didn"t even eat."

He just grinned and shifted to take his wallet from his back pocket. Leaving a bill on the table, he stood and offered his hand to help her stand. It pleased him in a way he couldn"t qualify when she took it and came to her feet, retrieving her jacket from the back of her seat. He liked her bare arms. They were trim, but just as pale as her face and sprinkled with freckles.

They stepped back into the oppressive humidity of the afternoon, both slipping on their sunglasses against the bright sun. Walking in unison, they turned down Market Street toward the Financial District. The walk was short, but August in New England was as hot and humid as any southern bayou or Florida Everglade, especially here in the city deep in the jungle of massive steel and glass buildings that blocked any cooling breeze that might drift in off the Atlantic Ocean. They reached the light at the corner and joined the mass of people waiting to cross. Benjamin chanced a glance in her direction, catching her huff as she blew wisps of hair off her forehead.

"Perhaps we should save our next lunch outing for a slightly less smothering day."

She smiled and nodded. "Please."

The light changed and they all moved en masse. Benjamin cupped her elbow, not realizing until they stepped onto the other curb that he"d once again reached for her. It felt natural, instinctual. And once again, she hadn"t moved away. It would be so easy to slide his fingers down the inside of her arm and take her hand, just to see if she"d let him shift his fingers between hers.

They crossed Market and headed down Friend Street toward the tower of steel and glass that housed Bulwark. He dropped his hand from her elbow as they neared the building, and caught the slight tip of her head as she looked down at her bare arm and then up at the gleaming face of the tower. Benjamin stepped forward and pulled open the glass lobby doors.

A refreshing wave of cooler air washed over them. Jewell stopped inside the doors and tipped her head back, a slow smile on her lips. He put his hand against her back to move forward and felt the purr of a groan vibrate through her ribcage.

The reaction in his gut was intense and nearly made him stumble.

She waved to the security guard at the front desk as they crossed the black marble floor to the bank of elevators. He noted that Jewell smiled at every person who passed them, and nearly every one of them returned the smile. She inspired the reaction; he understood that even for himself. When Jewell smiled at him, he couldn"t help but smile back.

Benjamin used his security card to call the elevator and let her precede him into the empty car when the doors opened. The interior of the car was polished brass and wood, and each wall acted like a mirror, surrounding Benjamin with images of Jewell. She slipped on her cream-colored jacket and ran her fingers over the twisted curls at the nape of her neck.

"I must look a fright," she said with a tilted smile, trying to get a look at herself in the reflective brass walls.

Benjamin pushed his hands deep into his pockets to keep himself from touching the tendrils along her cheeks. He leaned against the railing that ran along three sides of the elevator car, watching her compose herself.

"You look… fine," he finally said.

Her green eyes shifted to him, then away. The elevator bumped to a stop, and he glanced up to the red numbers indicating the floor levels and saw they had another five floors before they reached their office. The doors opened, and three people stepped on, among them Kevin Burke. Benjamin shifted along the rail to stand closer to Jewell, giving the others more room.

"You two just coming back from lunch?" Burke asked.

"Yes," Jewell answered, turning so she faced both of them and Benjamin could see her face. "Well, I went for lunch and Mr. Roth happened to find me."

Burke looked between them, then his gaze settled on Jewell. Benjamin watched the other fund manager"s focus shift from the pretty curls around her face, to the glistening skin at the base of her throat from the heavy humidity outside to her flittering hands as she smoothed and buttoned her jacket.

Benjamin"s neck prickled and he slid his hands from his pockets to curl around the handrail. Something about the predatory way the other man looked at Jewell jabbed at Benjamin. He didn"t like it. He just wasn"t sure why he didn"t like it.

Jewell touched his arm, drawing his attention. "I"m going to the break room for a cold drink. Do you want one?"

He nodded, releasing his grip on the bar to sign. "Thank you."

The elevator stopped at their floor and the doors opened. Everyone filed out, and with a final smile in his direction, Jewell headed through the bullpen to the break room on the other side. Benjamin walked slower toward his office door, watching her wave to some and pause at the desk of another for a brief conversation before moving on.

Burke tapped Benjamin"s arm with the back of his hand, then pointed after her. "I think you owe me one, Roth."

Benjamin just smirked and turned away, effectively ending the conversation as he went into his office, raising a hand of acknowledgment to April. She held up several pink "While You Were Out" slips that he took as he passed. He didn"t bother looking back to see if Burke had walked away, or not.