Talk This Way

But Cat never paid any attention to the rumors swirling around Landon—his soul was warm and deeper than the deepest well. His gobs of money were unimportant to her.

Money wasn’t everything. Though today, it was something. It was something she needed buckets of if she hoped to continue to give her mother the best care in the state of Georgia.

“Move it on over, lady,” he teased, dragging her back to her current predicament with a swish of a finger at the place beside her on the bench.

Cat slid an inch or so on the cool stone, leaving the long curtain of her hair to hide the profile of her tearstained face. “So how’re you feelin’, Landon Wells? Stronger these days, I’d suppose from the looks of that handsome face of yours.”

He did look stronger, fuller in the face, and the color in his cheeks had returned.

Landon lifted his face to the sunshine and sighed. “I feel good, Kit-Cat. Life’s good. So good. How you feelin’? How’s your mama?”

About to be put out on the street? “She’s mending. Seems like it takes such a long time with her diabetes in the mix, but you know Mama. She’s a real trooper. So what’re you doin’ back here? I thought you were sprung last week?”

They’d thrown him a big party when he finished his last dose of chemo—Cat had blown up balloons and made a cake with the help of the staff and patients.

“Just a quick checkup to be sure all my parts are in workin’ order.”

She wrapped her arm around him and gave him a squeeze. “I never doubted we couldn’t get rid o’ the likes a you, Mr. Wells. I’m so glad you’re stickin’ around.”

“So, I stopped by the coffee shop to get some of my Kit-Cat love, but you weren’t there, and that Arlo was cowering in the corner while a big, gorgeous man gave him what for. Somethin’ about you being fired. What gives?” he asked.

A gorgeous man yelling at Arlo? Huh.

Landon nudged her shoulder when she remained silent, the clean scent of his cologne drifting to her nose on the warm air. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She swallowed hard, so angry with herself. “Nope.”

The crisp material of his suit rustled against his skin. Landon always wore suits and ascots in every color of the rainbow—even on the hottest of Atlanta days. “Surely, you don’t think I’d leave a damsel in distress, do you? It’s obvious you’ve been cryin’, Cat and I can’t have my favorite barista cryin’—so out with it.”

“I’m not your barista anymore.”

“Oh?”

“You heard me right. I managed to get myself fired.”

Landon put his hands to his heart with a dramatic gesture and a comical pouty face. “Say it isn’t so.”

“I wish I could.” It was very much so. What was she going to do? At one of the most crucial points in her life, where it was imperative she have a steady job, she’d still managed to dig herself a hole.

“Care to explain why?”

“My big mouth.” There was no use sugaring it up. It was the truth. She could have let Arlo lie about her to Flynn McGrady. Surely her pride was nothing compared to how important it was to keep a steady income for her mother right now.

“Bah! You? A big mouth? I won’t hear it. Your mouth is pretty as a picture and hardly big. It’s just right for your face.”

That made her smile for a moment. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked over at him with eyes that teased. “Are you sure you’re gay?”

“As sure as I am Liberace and I was somehow gypped out of an enduring, lifelong union by some insane mad scientist and his attempts at frozen embryonic separation.”

Cat let her head fall back on her shoulders when she laughed. “Dream big or go home, I always say.” She patted his arm and smiled her gratitude. “Thank you for making me feel better, kind sir. I want you to know, you always bring a ray of sunshine to my day. I’ll always remember that.”

Landon grabbed her hand, leaving a cool imprint on her palm, and tucked it under his arm. “Oh, no. You’re not gettin’ away that easy. We’re friends. I never leave my friends cryin’. Besides, now that I’m sprung, what’s gonna happen to me if you don’t make my cinnamon latte at the coffee shop every mornin’? Nothing, and I do mean, nothing, will ever be the same for me. And don’t you tell me that heathen Arlo will make ’em. He couldn’t make a cup of coffee if Juan Valdez taught him himself. How will I ever go on?”

“Call Juan Valdez?” she teased, closing her eyes and allowing the warm breeze of early spring in Georgia soothe her.

“That’s a brilliant idea. I’m sure I must know someone somewhere who knows him. Until then, what shall we do about your unemployment?”

His question startled her. “We? We don’t have to do anything. I have to get online and start lookin’ for work.” Dread filled the pit of her stomach.

How was she ever going to find a job with her employment history? She’d hung on tooth and nail to her job with Arlo. She’d bitten her tongue more times than she cared to count, except when it really counted.

“What if I told you I can help?”

“I’d tell you to keep your bags o’ money to yourself. Now, let’s not kid each other here, Landon. I know you’re rich. And if I didn’t know, Sanjeev dropping by your room every day, driving a slick limo and bringin’ the finest linen napkins my eyes have ever seen for you to wipe your mouth on, or all that fancy food you had flown in from Bobby Flay’s personal kitchen when you were at the hospital, would have been a sure clue.”

She didn’t begrudge Landon his money or his fineries, but it wasn’t as though she couldn’t see with her own eyes he had plenty to spare.

People probably used him all the time because of it. She wasn’t one of those people. He was a friend, not an ATM.

Landon gazed at her as the sunlight filtering through the big oak tree whispered across his smile. “Those napkins at Oakdale are scratchy and they chafe. You’d think for all the money they charge to stay there, we’d get better damn napkins. I won’t apologize.”

Cat chuckled. “Heaven forbid, I’d never ask you to. But if Sanjeev wasn’t enough, the running tab at the coffee shop you keep for the women at the homeless shelter who go out job-huntin’ every day would be.” If she hadn’t already been a smidge in love with Landon’s heart, finding out that piece of information would have cinched the deal.

“Homeless women from the shelter need coffee, too.”

“Do you have any idea how much the bill is each month?” Enormous. That’s how much. But Landon had worked something out with Arlo, and each morning, no less than twenty women filed in to get their coffee and muffins, all courtesy of this kind man’s gold-lined pockets.

He shrugged as though it was neither here nor there. “They need somethin’ warm in their bellies to start their days. I can provide that. Besides, coffee and muffins always hits my spot. And do you have any idea how ripped off I’da been if you hadn’t kept Arlo on the path of the righteous with that bill?”

She flushed. Arlo had tried to pad the bill, and when Cat caught him, she’d spoken up and threatened to tell Landon. Another one of her bucking-the-system moments.

“I suppose you didn’t think I knew?”

“I...”

Landon nodded and smiled that handsome smile. “You don’t think I got all this money because I threw it around without payin’ attention to where it was goin’, do you? But that right there—that’s what makes you a good soul, Catherine Butler. Your heart’s bigger than all of Texas. I know. I’ve been there. I’ve seen you with the people at Oakdale. Your mama told me all about what you did for Howard at Arlo’s. You’re a passionate, free spirit, always lookin’ out for the little guy. Sometimes that gets in your way. I’m bettin’ that free spirit of yours was what got you fired today.”

That comment made Cat wince, her heart tightening in a ball. Her mother often called her just that—a free spirit, happy to enjoy what life doled out rather than forcing it to bend to her will. She’d floated most of her adult life—from job to job, just barely making ends meet. Jack-of-all-trades, master of none. But her life was her own, and she made all the rules.

And look where that got you today, free bird.

Cat peeked at Landon. “Do all free spirits have such big mouths and the employment history of a sixteen-year-old at the age of almost thirty?”

Landon barked a laugh, making the birds under the big oak tree scatter. “Free spirits sometimes need tethering, is all. Still free, just more centered while they’re bobbin’ around up there in the sky, reachin’ for those stars.”

Those tears of regret burned her eyes again. What was she going to do? She’d just barely been able to make the payments she’d managed to work out with Oakdale as it was. “I’ve made a real mess of things, Landon.”

“That’s why I asked you what you’d say to me helpin’ you.”

“I know what you asked me, but I don’t want handouts. So I’d say thank you kindly, Landon Wells, but no thank you. I’m sure there are plenty o’ other people out there willin’ to abuse their friendships with you because you’re rich. I’m not one of them.”

“I know enough to know a good human bein’ when I see one. Seen more than my share of bad. I can tell the difference.”

She was here, at this place in her life, because she’d refused to conform to society’s idea of what an adult should be. Turned out, society was right, and most people her age were at least able to help their aging parents if they did what society dictated and got good jobs, planned for the future. But her? Nah. She’d middle-fingered the notion.

For being such a complete idiot, she didn’t deserve help. “No handouts.”

Landon smiled again like he had some secret that amused him. “Okay, then. What about a hand up?”

“To?”

“You’re gonna call me crazy,” Landon joked, but his eyes twinkled.

“As if that’s not a hyphen on your name?”

“So will you hear me out?”

Her throat went dry. “I’m almost afraid to answer that.”

“Will you listen if it means you’ll have security and a 401K?”

Cat fought a sharp inhale. All the things she’d never had. Resources she could have tapped into had she played by the rules. “How do you know I don’t have one already?”

“I make it my business to know everything about the people I like—especially the people I like who are in a nasty pinch.”

He didn’t say it as though he had a leg up on her, or even like he was looking down his nose at her. “Have you been pryin’ into my personal affairs, Wells? Using all that lovely money to research my sordid past?” she teased.

But Landon merely chuckled at her reaction. “Now don’t go gettin’ the wrong idea there, pretty lady. I’m not some crazy who wants to collect your skin to make a coat. I know our friendship hasn’t extended outside of Oakdale, but my intentions are all on the up-and-up. So just say you’ll hear my pitch, and if you don’t like what I propose, you can get up and walk away, and never see me again. But not before you tell me the secret to those happy swirls of whipped cream.” He winked.

Really. What did she have to lose but a few minutes of her time she’d only spend berating herself for this vicious cycle of unemployment she was caught up in? She was broke and desperate and all Landon required was her ears.

So what was the worst that could happen right here in broad daylight?

Chapter Three

Turned out, it hadn’t been the worst thing to happen to her in broad daylight—not by a long shot. But plum crazy? Yes, sir.

Landon had indeed offered her what he called help. He’d done it with flourish, lots of arcing hand gestures and that ever-present amused twinkle in his eyes.

As Cat made her way toward his home, the towering glass-and-chrome building where Landon had invited her to a home-cooked meal by Sanjeev, passing expensive shops and cars worth more than she’d make in a lifetime of work, she felt around the inside of her purse to be sure the can of pepper spray was where she could find it.

After the tale Landon had told her, she was more than a little skeptical. No. She was downright incredulous, leading her to wonder what she really knew about the real-world Landon Wells anyway. Where did all his money come from?

She’d read all about the internet businesses he’d created, seen the occasional gossip article linking him with a prince in some far-off country. He’d certainly had his fair share of wild adventures.

So was he just eclectic-crazy, or crazy-crazy?

Please don’t let him be a serial killer. Not after he’s been so nice. Her day had already been ugly enough.

As a precaution, one she felt sick with guilt about even considering, she’d made sure her pepper spray was in her purse before leaving her place. There’d be no drugging an unsuspecting Cat Butler and stuffing her body parts into a black garbage bag and dumping her body at the local Winn-Dixie, thank you very much. That wouldn’t pay her mother’s hospital bills.

Yet, how could she possibly stay away after what he’d proposed to her? It was outrageous. She’d done nothing but think about it all afternoon long.

All while she’d dug out a dress for the dinner and taken a long, hot soak in the antiquated tub in her studio apartment. And while she’d blow-dried her hair and applied her makeup.

Now, as she gave the doorman her name, her legs trembled and her heart beat painfully hard.

The spry gentleman, dressed in an immaculate black suit with brass cuff links at his wrists and a gray tie, swept his arm toward the elevators. “This way, Miss Butler. Mr. Wells has a private entry elevator to his penthouse.”

The buzz of her phone made her hold her finger up and dig it out of her purse.

Oakdale calling. Her heart began that heavy thud of dread in her chest, making her send up a silent prayer that Landon wasn’t some crazy rich man who was prepping his prey. She pressed the decline button and stuffed her phone back in her purse.

If this job were for real, she’d be able to make that payment.

“Cat?”

She whirled around, stumbling in her heels. Flynn caught her by the elbow, sending a shot of electricity along her arm and a pool of warmth to her cheeks. Her first instinct was to fire off a warning shot. “Shouldn’t you be off looking for someone else to get fired? Or are your plans more laid-back tonight? Maybe just an employee write-up or two on the agenda?”

Boo, Cat. That’s totally unfair. It wasn’t his fault he’d been the final straw for Arlo. It was just dumb luck. If it hadn’t been him, it would have been someone else.

After some thought, Cat decided he had every right to look out for his mother’s best interests. He might be narrow-minded about it, but he was doing it out of love.

Cat fully expected him to shoot a poison arrow back. Instead, he grinned, that grin that left her stomach wishy-washy and her pulse erratic. The one with the deep grooves on either side of his sexy mouth and lips she wanted to tug on with her teeth. “Still mad?”

Pulling her purse to her side, she looped her fingers into the strap and admitted defeat. “I’m not mad. It really wasn’t your fault. You were just the catalyst to a long list of complaints Arlo had about me. Forget it ever happened.” She turned to move toward the elevators, but he stuck his body between her and the up button.

Cat bit the inside of her cheek. That chest. Wide. Hard. Lightly tanned. A broad space where a girl could rest her head. Mercy, mercy.

If it were any other day but today, and he didn’t want to see her skewered over a roaring flame for corrupting his mother, she might have flirted with Flynn McGrady—even as stuffy and conservative as he was.

But today wasn’t that day.

Flynn looked down at her, his dark blue eyes melting her from the inside out. “Yeah. About that. I’d like to apologize for goading you. I was out of line. I was hoping maybe we could talk? Are you busy now?”

“I have an...appointment.” A date with crazy. A liaison with lunacy.

“Here?” He didn’t even try to hide his surprise.

She wondered if he was surprised because she was, after all, headed up to a rich man’s penthouse. In a red dress and heels. But it was none of his business why she was here. Let him think what he wanted. “Yes.”

“Maybe when you’re done we could talk? If you have time after, that is.”

Cat cocked her head, her brow furrowing. “I’m a little confused. What do we have to talk about, Mr. McGrady?”

“Flynn. Call me Flynn. I live in the building. Just leased a place here for a few months to be closer to my mother in her recovery. I was hoping we could talk.”

Wait. Flynn lived in this building. Her libido would never survive. “I thought you lived in New York?”

“I did. I do. But my company is internet-based. I can work anywhere. The commute was keeping me from seeing my mother as much as I’d like, so I decided, at least for now, this was the best place for me to be. So are you open to having a cup of coffee with me?”

Was her asking her out? After their spat? Oh, no. She couldn’t get to know Mr. Stuffy. Not with everything she had on her plate right now. She didn’t have time for any distractions. Especially when they looked and smelled like Flynn. He was the kind of man distraction was made for. Sin and scandal. “For...?”

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