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Authors: Janie Mason

Redhead Blitz (17 page)

BOOK: Redhead Blitz
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Leaving his stuff right where it was, he jogged out to his car.
 
His lesson plans were done, and those few ungraded papers would still be there in the morning.
 
Tonight, Sean had his own game plan to compose.
 
And it needed to be one
helluva
blitz.

Tuesday morning,
Gigi
dragged herself down the hallway to her office, already wishing for the weekend.
 
Yesterday had been a strenuous day, with the struggle of trying to keep her mind off Sean piled on top of everything else.
 
And then when he’d come in to retrieve his mail, she’d had to turn away for fear of meeting his gaze.
 
He must absolutely hate her.
 
Why was it that she’d never had any problem breaking up with other guys, but just telling Sean she couldn’t continue a romantic relationship with him made her feel as if she’d played punching bag for Jackie Chan?

She unlocked the office, flipped on the lights and propped the door open with the metal wastebasket.
 
Relieved not to have to make small talk, she stowed her purse in her desk drawer, picked up a stack of forms that needed to be reproduced and headed to the photocopy room.
 
Maybe the mindless task would allow her to mentally prepare for the day.

Ten minutes later with that job completed, she
retuned
to the office.
 
A Starbucks cup and familiar cardboard container greeted her from the middle of her desk blotter.
 
The rich scent of
Cinnabon
confirmed her suspicions as she set her stack of papers on her desk.
 
Who had left them?
 
The office was empty.
 
And where had someone gotten them?
 
Even though there was a Starbucks on every other corner, the mall wasn’t open yet, and they had the only
Cinnabon
store she knew of.

Gigi
picked up the box, her mouth watering.
 
Who’d done this?
 
Al?
 
He didn’t seem like the type.
 
L.R.?
 
Nah. Lord, she hoped it wasn’t from a student.

If Sean didn’t totally hate her, she would’ve suspected him.
 
But, no way.
 
And the idea of Fred delivering a warm cinnamon roll without devouring it first was ludicrous.
 
Gigi
wouldn’t consume either item until she knew who’d left them, but as if the roll’s scent alone could appease her craving, she flipped the tab on the box.
 
Eyes closed, she lifted the lid and inhaled, filling her nostrils with the heavenly aroma.
 
Ahhh
.
 
When her eyes drifted open, she spotted writing on the inside of the lid.

We belong together.
 
Just like
Cinnabon
and Starbucks.
 
Sean.

Gigi
blinked, hard, and refocused on the lettering.
 
There must be some mistake.
 
He’d been furious when she’d seen the back of his head on Friday night.
 
And yesterday, before she’d looked away, his gaze had flicked over her without interest.
 
For him to do something this thoughtful was a total one-eighty from what she’d expected and suspicion threatened to take hold.

“It’s not poisoned.
 
Really.”
 
Sean’s amused tone matched his expression as she looked up and met his gaze.
 
“You looked a bit uncertain, so I thought I’d set your mind at ease.”

Perplexed at the kindness of this unexpected gesture,
Gigi
didn’t know what to do besides play along.
 
“That’s a relief.
 
I was wondering if I should find Fred and ask him to taste test for me.”

“Like he’d leave a crumb for you?
 
Where food’s involved, I wouldn’t count on it.”
 
Sean leaned on the door frame and crossed his arms.
 
He looked more delectable than the
Cinnabon
with his navy polo shirt stretched tight across his muscled chest and arms.
 
She tried to summon a laugh but only managed a confused smile.

“Well, thank you.
 
For the breakfast, that is.
 
I must admit, you’ve caught me off guard.”
 
Dare she say more?
 
Yes.
 
No one else was around, and for sanity’s sake she needed to clear the air.
 
“You were pretty angry with me the other night.”

“True.”

His succinct assent had her thoughts scrambling for some other clue as to his current mindset.
 
The words he’d written inside the box were far from bitter, but she had to be careful.
 
She didn’t want him to think she’d reconsidered a relationship.

“Sean, about what you wrote...”
 
She didn’t know how to continue.

He straightened but made no move to close the distance between them.
 
“What I wrote is the truth.
 
I guess it’s just going to take you a little longer to see it than it took me.”
 
He held his palm up to put off any rejoinder.
 
“I’m not going to put you in any awkward positions here, but I’m also not giving up.
 
On us.”

He gave her a confident wink and left, leaving her a jumble of confusion, frustration, fear and delight.
 
He wasn’t giving up on her.
 
On them.
 
God, he was so sweet.
 
She suppressed a sigh and sat, wondering if perhaps he was right about them being good together.

Wait.
 
No!
 
Jeesh
, all the man had to do was
ply
her with a warm pastry to make her resolve waver?
 
She snapped the lid closed on the roll and thought about tossing it into the trash.
 
Then, reconsidering, she opened it back up and ripped off a section of the outer ring, covered with gooey, melted frosting. Popping it into her mouth, she savored the rich sweetness.
 
And chewing vigorously, she strengthened her determination with each tightening of her jaw.

There was no
them
, and wouldn’t be, as long as they both worked at the school.
 
But the stubborn man had just up and decided not to believe her.
 
Did he think she was too weak-willed to stick to her guns?
 
Well, he had another think coming.
 
Gigi
Thompson could not be bought with food, drinks or sexy winks, no matter how excellent.
 
All she had to do was stay firm.
 
Eventually he’d give up.
     

But later, upon her arrival home, she found a stunning flower arrangement on the landing outside her door.
 
She hesitated to read the card, but curiosity won out and she tore the small envelope open.
 
Thinking of you, day and night
.
 
Sean
.

The horrible man.
 
He had to stop this.
 
She was thinking about him every second as it was, and he was making her crazy.
 
Gigi
carried the vase to the kitchen counter, determined to grind every gorgeous stem in the garbage disposal.
 
But the despicable man had chosen all her favorite flowers.
 
Pink roses, purple iris, white tulips.
 
Even that lacy white flower she could never remember the name of.

In a huff, she carried them into the living room and set them on the coffee table.
 
Using a critical eye, she had to admit the arrangement was lovely.
 
Besides, she didn’t want to burn up the motor on her garbage disposal.
 
It wasn’t like he’d know she hadn’t gotten rid of them anyway.
 
Heading to the kitchen to microwave her dinner, she congratulated herself on outwitting him.
 
Why shouldn’t she enjoy them?
 
As long as
he
didn’t know.

By Friday evening,
Gigi
was grateful she hadn’t pulled every hair out of her head in frustration.
 
Sean had surreptitiously left almost a dozen little notes and gifts on her desk without her ever once catching him.
 
If she had, she would have certainly put an end to the practice.
 
He’d successfully avoided her every time she’d sought him out, while at the same time making himself a damned nuisance.
 
Why, she could barely get a thing done for worrying about his next clandestine visit.
 
The incorrigible man must have had elves on his payroll.

Thank God the football team had an away game tonight.
 
Maybe she could have one evening of peace.
 
But when a prepaid pizza was delivered—her favorite thin crust from Romano’s—along with a DVD copy of her favorite romantic comedy, she gave up.
 
Gigi
read the card taped to the outside of the DVD box.
 
Wish I could be there watching this with you
.
 
She growled to herself and ripped up the card, tossing the pieces into the garbage.

She leaned against the kitchen counter and tried her best to ignore the spicy aroma of the pizza.
 
How could he know so much about her particular preferences?
 
Yes, they’d learned some history about each other from early casual conversations, but it was almost as if he had insider information.
 
As if...
Heidi
.
 
She was the only one of
Gigi’s
close friends who Sean knew.

Two minutes later, when her friend failed to pick up both her cell and home phone,
Gigi
was sure.
 
Traitor
.
 
If she didn’t think she’d be interrupting the newlyweds going at it like bunnies, she would drive over there right now to blast her.
 
She was miffed, but not enough for that.
 
Tomorrow would be soon enough.
 
She had to hit the
laundromat
in the morning, but on her way home she’d swing by Heidi and
Rafe’s
to make certain the operation of their little conspiracy was shut down.

The tempting scent of pizza brought
Gigi’s
thoughts back to the present.
 
She was starving and had time to go grocery shopping.
 
But Romano’s
was
her favorite...

No!
 
The other morning she’d caved and eaten the
Cinnabon
.
 
She’d rationalized keeping the flowers and the bottle of wine that had appeared the next night.
 
The man had plotted carefully and found every weak spot in her armor.
 
She saw now that ignoring his incessant notes and gifts had been ineffective.
 
It was time to strike back.

She grabbed her purse, the pizza and the movie and headed to her car.
 
She was already familiar with his address from the staff information list.
 
Just out of curiosity.
 
Now she could return tonight’s offering and any others that might follow.
 
Perhaps finding a few rats outside his front door nibbling on pizza crust might make him consider a retreat.

Chapter Fourteen

The monotonous hum of churning washing machines and clothes dryers, combined with her sleepless night, had
Gigi
sliding down the slippery plastic chair, half asleep.
 
Her fellow
laundromat
customers were either reading, talking on cell phones or outside smoking cigarettes, so nothing prevented her from resting her eyes.
 
But when they closed, the image that had kept her from sleep the night before and awakened a yearning inside her came back in vivid clarity.

Sean’s house.
 
Sean’s
unpretenious
, ordinary, typically beautiful house. Growing up in Greenville, she’d been past it a thousand times.
 
But last night had been the first time she’d stopped and looked at it.
 
It was a conventional story-and-a-half bungalow, with a wide front porch and requisite swing.
 
Although much smaller than the brick Georgian she’d grown up in, the house plucked her
Home Sweet Home
heartstrings like no place she’d ever seen.
 
Far from magazine perfect with its barren flower beds and hedges in desperate need of trimming, the quiet home called to her.
 
Like a friendly smile and a welcoming wave.

BOOK: Redhead Blitz
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