She's So Over Him

His long fingers were fiddling with the side button of her trousers when the ring of his mobile pierced her sexual fog. She looked past his shoulder and saw the display light up. The name ‘Megan Adams’ flashed on his screen.

She stiffened in his arms and felt the same familiar, burning jealousy she had as a teenager. Karen. Jenny. Amber. He’d been relentlessly chased and she knew that he always would be. She suspected that he often allowed himself to be caught…

‘Saved from my own stupidity,’ she muttered as she pulled back. Clambering off his lap, she pulled the cups of her bra back over her breasts.

Cale—smart man—let his mobile ring to voice-mail. ‘Maddie? What the hell?’

Maddie looked around for her shirt. ‘I’m late and you need to get out of here.’

Cale grabbed the waistband of her pants and held her in place. ‘I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what flicked your “off” button.’

‘At least I have an “off” button! You don’t seem to!’

More worrying was that he’d found her ‘on’ button so quickly. He’d liquefied her common sense in ten seconds flat.

‘Oh, God! Here you go again, judging my love-life.’ Cale rolled his eyes. ‘Trust me, you’re making something out of nothing, Mad.’

‘So you say.’ Maddie shrugged in mock insouciance. ‘But, just so we’re clear, I am never going to be a woman who hangs around waiting for your calls!’

‘Uh—I’ll never expect you to be.’

Maddie, feeling his fingers warm against her stomach, walked around his knees and leaned across the bed. She grabbed his mobile and waved it in his face. ‘Like this poor woman!’

‘Who?’

Maddie didn’t need to check the name. ‘Megan! Megan Adams!’

Cale looked puzzled. ‘Megan Adams often calls. So?’

Maddie jerked away, and the look she sent him was hot enough to burn a hole in sheet metal. ‘And she’s okay with you sleeping with other women?’

Cale grinned. ‘She seems to be.’

Maddie knew that he was mocking her and wasn’t quite sure why. It only ratcheted up her temper. Stomping away, she grabbed her shirt off the floor and pulled it on. ‘You’re not funny. Just go, Cale.’

‘You’ve really got the wrong end of the stick, Maddie.’

‘Cale, this is me—remember? I remember the incessant phone calls and the drooling girls with their flicky hair. I know. I was the girlfriend trying to compete for your attention with them!’ Maddie yanked a comb through her still-wet curls. ‘Megan’s just another poor sap desperate for you to take her calls. FYI, I’ve grown up and I will never, ever again be Miss Desperate or Miss Stupid or Miss Waiting-in-Anticipation for you to call!’

Cale stood and picked up his mobile and keys from the bed. She caught his flinty eyes and his tight jaw. He walked into the dressing room, reappearing with his toolbox in hand. ‘No, you now have the title of Miss Closed Mind and Miss Stubborn. Maybe Miss Childish, too,’ he said coldly.

‘Whatever,’ Maddie snapped. ‘And Cale?’

Cale stopped at the door, his fingers white as he clenched the frame of the door. ‘What now?’

‘I know that you were in my lingerie drawer! Where’s my candy-pink thong? Did you take it?’

He found it where he’d dropped it—behind the bathroom door—and tossed the underwear towards her.

‘I’d be happy for you to add it to your collection, but it’s my favourite,’ she called as he stormed out and slammed her front door so hard that the earth tilted off its axis and, Maddie was quite certain, set off an earthquake somewhere in the South Pacific.

BlackBerry Messaging: 16.15.

Cale Grant: Just thought I’d let you know that you’re the first woman I’ve killed in 3 months.

Maddie: What? Standing here watching my bride walk down the aisle. Pretty sure I’m still alive.

Cale Grant: Kissed, not killed! Can’t get used to this new phone. Thought you should know that since you think I’m a man slut. Just clearing the air…

Maddie: Seriously? So, if you haven’t kissed/killed anyone, then you haven’t…? How long since you… you know?

Cale Grant: Not answering that.

Maddie: Curious. Can I still call you Slick?

Cale Grant: You’re laughing, aren’t you?

Maddie: MAO. So… are you waiting for an apology?

Cale Grant: Would you give me one? Anyway, just wanted to clear the air. Now going for a long, long run, followed by a cold, cold shower… unless you’re offering alternative entertainment?

Maddie: Nope.

Cale Grant: Damn.

‘Maddie? Are you there?”

Maddie, perched on a ladder helping her crew drape a tent, mobile to her ear, mentally shook herself and concentrated on the low drawl. Finally putting a name to the voice, her lips curved in pleasure as she recognised a rival co-ordinator.

‘Dennis King, what do you need? An ice sculptor? A Roman set? Some advice?’

Although they were officially competitors, they both recognised the value of maintaining a cordial, friendly relationship. Who else but another event co-ordinator would know the name of an ice sculptor at two in the morning? Who else would understand? From who else could you borrow a cream tent, supplement chair covers, or get a new source of blue roses?

‘Hey, sweetie, you’re good, but I doubt that even you can express a Roman set to the Big Apple.’

‘You’re in New York? What are you doing there?’

‘Got a job at Bower & Co.’

Maddie nearly swallowed a pin. How on earth had he landed a job with one of the most respected PR and eventing firms in the world? And why hadn’t she heard about it?

‘That’s actually why I’m calling you.’

Maddie removed the pins from her mouth.

‘Sorry?’

‘They’ve got an opening for an events co-ordi-nator and I thought of you.’

‘Me? Why?’

‘Because I could use a friendly face here, we get along well and you already work the long hours that are standard over here. What do you think?’

Maddie sat down on the ladder and rubbed her eyes. ‘Wow, Dennis. Wow. I’m not sure what to say.’

‘Say you’ll think about it. I’ve been dropping your name at every opportunity I get. In the meantime, e-mail me your CV.’

‘I’ll think about it. New York?’

‘Manhattan, baby. Big money. Big kudos,’ Dennis replied. ‘E-mail me your CV. Later.’

Maddie looked down at her dead mobile and pinched the bridge of her nose. She carefully sat down and rested her head on her knees. New York City.

This was so exciting—a career move of stratospheric proportions. Bower & Co tendered for opening ceremonies at sporting events, Hollywood première parties and political balls. They were solidly big league…

She couldn’t wait to tell… Cale?

Maddie huffed a breath. Why did her thoughts instinctively veer to him? He’d just dropped back into her life, she wasn’t even sleeping with him, and they’d shared no more than a couple of conversations. You ‘re being an idiot, she told herself. He shouldn’t even be a blip on her radar.

But he was, and he was blipping far too often for her physical and, more frightening, her emotional comfort. You ‘re just out of practice, Maddie assured herself. Allowing your imagination to run away with you. You’re—eek!—sexually frustrated and easily confused

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