Love Is a Breeze Read online

  “Maybe you should call the police.” Carly suggested.

  “He’s in Colombia by now. I’ll deal with him when he gets back. This is why I’ve sworn off men. I’ll never trust one again.”

  “Never’s a long time, Bree. There are some good men out there. Look at Rob. He’s great.”

  “You’ve only been married a month, Carly. You’re still on your honeymoon.” Brianna said. “Are you sure it’s okay with him that I stay with you?”

  “Sure, he’s fine with it. I told you he’s a good man,” She grabbed a box. “I’ll pack the kitchen and living room. You do the bathroom and bedroom. We’ll be out of here in no time.”

  An hour later Carly stowed the last box in the back of her ancient Honda hatchback and slammed the door.

  “I’m starved,” she said as she slid behind the wheel. “Let’s stop for a burger. My treat.”

  “I guess it will have to be. I have less than five dollars until next payday. That’s two weeks.”

  “I told you I can lend you a few bucks ‘til then.”

  “And I told you, I’ll not be borrowing money from you. Thanks for the offer though but I’ll be fine. It’s enough that you’re letting me stay with you.”

  “The offer stands. First thing Monday morning remember to stop the direct deposit on your paycheck.”

  “I will.” Brianna nodded as Carly drove up to the drive-thru window of the nearest fast-food restaurant.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Brianna rolled onto her stomach nearly toppling off the air mattress wedged between the dining table and the wall. She pulled the pillow over her head to muffle the whispers coming from the sofa bed. She dozed fitfully until a light in the kitchen area filled the room. She turned to face the wall, pulling the pillow tighter over her head. It was no use. Kicking off the covers, she sat up and yawned. She raked her fingers through her hair. Even the sun was still asleep.

  “Morning,” she said when she saw Rob standing by the sink eating from a bowl.

  “Sorry, I tried to be quiet. I’m scheduled for an early shift today.” Rob was an intern at a nearby hospital.

  “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway. Too much on my mind, I guess.” Brianna stood, stretched the kinks out of her back and padded barefoot to the bathroom.

  When she returned, Rob was dressed in blue scrubs and heading for the door.

  “See you later. Don’t worry about waking Carly. She’d sleep through a tornado.”

  “Have a good day. And, thanks again, Rob.”

  “No problem.” He smiled as he closed the door behind him.

  Brianna opened the cupboard and pulled out the box of Froot Loops she’d brought and poured some into a bowl. The sound echoed in the tiny space. She glanced at Carly still sleeping like the dead. Carefully easing the refrigerator door open, she grabbed her carton of milk and emptied it into the bowl. She sat at the table, facing the window and looked at the city lights twinkling like stars.

  This is not going to work. She looked around. Besides a bathroom and a large closet, this was it – one room.

  While she microwaved water for tea she heard a thud and opened the door to find the newspaper lying on the floor. She retrieved it and sat at the table, stirring her tea while she looked at available rentals. Not that she could do anything right now but it wouldn’t hurt to look. By the time she finished the classifieds and the comics, the sun peeked around the tall buildings and Carly struggled to rejoin the living.

  “Rob leave already?” She asked, propping herself on one elbow.

  “Yeah, about two hours ago.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Seven.”

  Carly groaned and flopped back onto her pillow.

  “Is there any coffee?” Carly sat up, swung her feet to the floor and shook her short blonde hair into place.

  “No. Rob said he’d get some at the hospital. I think he just didn’t want to wake me. I can make some now, if you’d like.”

  “That’d be great,” Carly replied before heading to the bathroom.

  Brianna filled the coffee maker and set it to brew while she reheated her tea. She carried her cup to the table and sat. Carly joined her with her mug.

  “How’d you sleep?” Carly asked, adding cream and sugar to her coffee.

  “Pretty good,” Brianna blushed slightly, remembering the quiet giggles coming from the bathroom during the newlyweds’ late shower.

  “Liar,” Carly said. “You have circles under your eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a hangover.”

  Brianna smiled, “Well, you know, strange place, strange noises.”

  “Right.” Carly grinned.

  “I looked at the rental ads. There doesn’t seem to be much available in my price range.”

  “There will be in a couple of weeks. This is the first of the month.”

  “I hope so.”

  “What? You don’t like my palace?”

  “I love your ‘palace,’ Carly. You and Rob are like family. You are the closest to family I have in the States, but ‘three’s a crowd,’ as they say. Lord knows I’m used to a crowd, growing up with four brothers in a small farm house and only one bathroom but you guys need your privacy.”

  “That must have been fun. Rob has one sister and I’m an only child.”

  Brianna’s eyes clouded with memories. “Sometimes it was but the boys were quite a bit older and bossed me around terribly.

  “That makes it even more of a mystery why you hooked up with Eric. He was such a control freak.”

  “He wasn’t at first. I guess I was at a vulnerable place in my life. My aunt, who I lived with since I was fourteen, had just died. We’d been dating for a couple of years. I thought I knew him and I trusted him. We’d even talked about marriage. When he asked me to move in with him it seemed like the perfect solution.”

  “I think you’re lucky.” Carly took a sip of her coffee.

  “Lucky? I don’t feel very lucky right now.”

  “Men with control issues often turn violent.”

  “Oh, I don’t think Eric’s a violent person.” Brianna leaned back in her chair. “Though he did have a bit of a temper. I thought he might hit me when I told him I’d signed up for an art class. He was furious.”

  “You’re amazing, Bree. I’d probably be bitter as hell.”

  “Life’s too short to waste on sour apples.” She stood and cleared the table. “Enough maudlin talk. I’ll wash up.”

  “After I make up the bed, let’s vegg-out and watch movies all day. Tomorrow, it’s back to work.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Brianna said. “No sappy love stories, though. I’m in the mood for murder and mayhem.”

  “You got it.” Carly laughed.

  * * * *

  After another restless night Brianna rose early, intending to take a shower before anyone else woke up. Rob had the day off and was trying to catch up on his sleep. He had a pillow pulled tightly over his head. Carly was already in the shower. She reversed direction and tip-toed to the kitchen. As quietly as possible she made a cup of tea and spread cream cheese on a bagel.

  “All yours,” Carly called in a loud whisper before ducking into the closet to get dressed.

  “Thanks.” She sat at the little table to eat. When she finished, she squeezed by the sofa-bed and into the bathroom.

  Refreshed by the warm shower, she wiped the steam off the mirror and combed out her wavy hair. She plugged in the hair dryer then unplugged it, afraid the noise would wake Rob. She pulled her hair into a damp pony tail instead.

  Carly knocked on the door. “I need my make-up.”

  “All done,” she said as she opened the door and went into the closet to dress. She put her make-up in her purse to put on at work.

  * * * *

  Carly and Brianna were the last bodies to squeeze into the crowded elevator ascending to the twenty-ninth floor where they worked at Sharp Advertising, the top ad agency in Chicago.

  Brianna left Carly i
n the employees’ lounge fixing a cup of coffee and eating a muffin from the vending machine. She went into the ladies’ room where she put on her make-up and adjusted her pony-tail. Coming out of the restroom she met Carly, who was brushing crumbs off her shirt. They walked together to the weekly department meeting.

  Their supervisor, Miss Davis, stood at the front of the room, pushed her round, black- rimmed glasses up her nose as she pursed her thin lips and counted heads arriving for the meeting. Eccentric but an amazing graphic artist, she resembled a pencil with a straight brown bob on top, wrapped in a short, red pleated skirt and black shirt, both salvaged from the seventies.

  The warm stale air of the windowless room and lack of sleep, caused Brianna to nod off. Carly jabbed her with an elbow. This was going to be a very long day. She sat up straight and tried to follow Miss Davis’ animated speech as she swooped back and forth across the room.

  “Mr. Sharp will be out of town this week but we still have work to do,” Miss Davis concluded and dismissed her underlings.

  A plan instantly formed in Brianna’s mind. She pulled Carly aside and whispered in her ear.

  “What? Are you out of your mind?” Carly stepped back and stared at her.

  “Shhh,” Brianna put her finger to her lips and looked around. Everyone else made their way to their cubicles and, other than a glance from a couple of girls, no one paid any attention to them.

  “Mr. Sharp is out of town, though it wouldn’t matter - you could set a watch by his coming and going. I wouldn’t be bothering anybody and it’d only be until payday. It’s perfect.”

  “It is not ‘perfect.’ It’s insane.” Carly retorted.

  “I’ll sleep on the sofa in the lounge. You can bring me food and clothes.”

  Carly grabbed Brianna by the shoulders, turning her and bending so they were nose to nose.

  “Bree, are you listening to me? This could get us both fired.”

  “No, it won’t. I won’t involve you.”

  “I’m already involved.”

  Brianna leaned her forehead on Carly’s. “You’re a great friend, Carly. I’ll go home with you tonight, pack a few things and tomorrow I’ll move in here.” She turned and practically skipped to her desk.

  Carly shook her head. Once Bree made up her mind there was no stopping her.

  CHAPTER Three

  John Sharp unlocked the doors to his ten-year old Chicago advertising agency, thinking the day couldn’t possibly get any worse. After a weeklong business trip to Phoenix, his flight home the day before sat on the runway for two and a half hours in the relentless Arizona heat. This morning his coffee maker malfunctioned and spewed brown gunk all over his kitchen and his routine morning workout at his condo’s gym didn’t happen because of a broken water pipe. When the elevator in his office building inexplicably stopped at the twenty-first floor and refused to go any further, he walked the remaining eight floors to his office after working out in the first floor gym. He was surprised to find his private office door locked. Slipping his key into the lock, he pushed open the door. Singing came from the adjoining bathroom.

  Great. I’m dripping in sweat and the cleaning crew is still here. I need a shower and a strong cup of coffee. John didn’t like it when things disrupted his schedule.

  He reached for the bathroom knob but paused when he heard the shower running and a female voice singing a bawdy Irish ditty. The cleaning crew isn’t Irish. He leaned against the opposite wall with arms folded across this chest, ankles crossed and waited.

  * * * *

  Brianna rinsed the shampoo from her hair and turned off the shower. She stepped out of the tiled enclosure, grabbed a towel from the stack on the shelf and quickly dried. Wrapping the towel around herself, she reached for another and opened the door. Bending over to secure the second towel around her head, she stepped into the narrow hallway. She collided with something. Her body froze. Her heart fell somewhere around her knees. This could not be good. She opened her eyes and slowly raised her head taking in the long legs, narrow hips, flat stomach, well-muscled chest beneath a Nike t-shirt and strong jaw before encountering the piercing gray eyes of her boss.

  “I see you don’t do much better walking forward, Miss Ryan.”

  She stared, dumbfounded, for a few seconds before her tongue bypassed her brain. “What are you doing here at this hour? You never come in before eight o’clock or after eight for that matter, always eight on the dot. Never–” She looked at her bare wrist.

  “–seven,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I came in early to work out here because my gym was closed.” The deep, male voice sent shivers down her spine. “Why am I explaining anything to you? You’re the trespasser. Why are you here, in my office, in a towel?” His eyes sparked.

  She backed toward the leather sofa, “My clothes are on the sofa,” she said, as if that explained everything.

  Brianna stood still as she watched his eyes travel from her turbaned head to her vivid purple toenails. Fingers of warmth spread wherever his eyes lingered.

  She crossed her arms over her chest partly to control the trembling that threatened to overtake her, mostly to keep the towel from slipping. “May I get dressed now? It’s rather cold in here,” she said. His right eyebrow shot up but, otherwise he didn’t move.

  “Get dressed in the bathroom and be quick about it. I can’t deal with a girl in a towel.”

  “It’s steamy in there.”

  He pinned her with a warning glare. “You have exactly five minutes,” he said, before walking out of the room.

  John passed his secretary’s vacant desk and looked out the window at tiny cars rushing about on Michigan Avenue. The sun cast a golden trail as it rose across the rippling surface of Lake Michigan. He rubbed the back of his neck. His brain told him he should fire her but his heart, which normally wasn’t involved in business matters, said otherwise. Something about the girl intrigued him. There was a vulnerability about her despite her bravado. There was a whole lot of woman packed into that little body. He took a deep breath. Her scent reminded him of the strawberry shortcake his grandmother used to make. Her hair was even the color of strawberries – no, more like sun-dried tomatoes, mounds of wavy, sun-dried tomatoes falling on creamy white... Swiping his hand down his face, he shook his head, an effort to stop thinking like a hormone crazed teenager. Fortunately, no one would be here for another hour. He wanted to resolve this before any other employees arrived.

  John turned as a tall, elegant blonde, one of his ad executives, entered the reception area.

  “This is taking Casual Friday to a whole new level.” She looked him up and down. “John, I—”

  His private office door swung open and Brianna poked her head out. “You can come back in now,” she said.

  He looked from one to the other. Damn. “I don’t have time to talk to you right now, Kaitlyn,”

  The blonde’s ice blue eyes narrowed as she looked from one to the other before turning on her heel and stalking down the hall.

  John turned back to the girl in his office. He brushed past her and stood beside his massive teak desk.

  She tugged at the hem of her short skirt and fidgeted with the neck of her green cotton sweater. Simple flat shoes hid her purple nail polish.

  Brianna smoothed her hair and squirmed under his scrutiny. He blinked.

  “Please, be seated.” He indicated one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. The scent of strawberries hung in the air as she passed him and sat in the specified chair. He inhaled sharply and leaned against the corner of his desk, arms braced on either side of him.

  “I hope you have a good explanation for this.”

  “I usually take a shower at night but I lost track of time and was so tired I decided to get up early and do it. Anyway, you’re supposed to be in Phoenix.” He said ‘start talking’ not ‘engage brain.’

  He looked at her. Her emerald green eyes never wavered from his. He liked that.

  “Why were you taking a shower in
my office at all?”

  “It’s the only one on this floor,” she offered and noticed his eyes narrow and darken.

  “Would you mind sitting down? I’m getting a kink in my neck looking up at you.” Brianna rubbed the back of her neck. From her vantage point he looked about seven feet tall but, since her nose had been level with his breastbone, he was, in reality, a little over a foot taller than her five-foot two. Six foot-three or four, solid muscle, long legs, great body… She reined in her thoughts when she met his piercing gray eyes.

  Their eyes locked for a second before John turned away. “I’d like the whole story before the rest of the employees show up and I’m in no mood for games or lies.” He moved around the desk and sat in the large leather chair. Picking up a pencil, he tapped it on the blotter.

  Her hand went to her head as she attempted to smooth the unruly mass of curls and wished for something to keep it out of her face.

  “You can call me Bree, that’s what my friends and my mum call me. Or Breeze, that’s what my dad calls me. I won’t go into what my brothers call me. And, I don’t lie.” She raised her head a notch.

  “Breeze?” He put up his hand. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. I do want to know exactly why you were taking a shower here, anywhere, in this building. Is there no shower where you live, Miss Ryan?”

  “Well, you see, there’s the problem. I don’t have a place to live at the moment.”

  “Are you telling me you’re living here?” His tone rose half an octave, warning Brianna that his patience was wearing thin.

  Brianna took a deep, calming breath. Lord, control my tongue.

  “I had to move out of my apartment last weekend. I have no money and nowhere to go, so, I’ve been sleeping on the sofa in the employee’s lounge.” She glanced up and gave him a small smile. “My parents still live in Ireland. Obviously, I can’t run to them. Not that I would because I’m an adult and can take care of myself.”