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Instead, the woman’s high-pitched laugh reached her ears. “I can’t believe your nerdy

neighbor came over to tell you that she heard us having sex through the walls. How rude!”

Brewer’s laugh was short. “More like a prude.”

Heat rose in Jane’s face and she sank lower in her chair.

“Maybe you should find someplace else to live,” his partner suggested, then she laughed.

“Because we’re going to drive her crazy. And then, she’s going to drive you crazy.”

“Why should I leave?” Brewer said. “Because I had the misfortune of moving in next to a

homely little geek who’s probably never had a good lay and has nothing better to do than listen to other people get it on?”

Jane inhaled sharply against the pain in her chest. Her skin burned with needles of

humiliation…is that how other people saw her? Emotion clogged her throat and tears pricked her eyes. She stood up abruptly, distantly registering the fact that she’d dropped her wine glass, but not caring as she fled inside.

* * *

Perry heard the sound of glass crashing on the other side of the balcony wall.

He winced, realizing that his neighbor—Jane, wasn’t it?—had been sitting on the other

side and had very likely heard what he’d said. Damn.

“What was that?” Kayla asked.

“Nothing,” he said, feeling like a heel as he lifted his beer to drain it.

“Maybe you should go—I have to be in court in the morning and I still have some files to

go through.”

Kayla pouted. “Okay. When will I see you again?”

“Soon,” he promised, escorting her back inside and toward the door. He lowered a

perfunctory kiss on her mouth, and shepherded her out into the hall, sending her off with a wave.

Then he paused and looked at his neighbor’s door, wondering if he should apologize, how

he could apologize for calling her a…He squinted to remember.

A homely little geek who’s probably never had a good lay.

He cringed, thinking that no matter how mousy the woman was, she didn’t deserve that

kind of putdown. His mother had raised him better than that.

Perry pulled on his chin and vowed to find a way to make it up to Jane what’s-her-

name…somehow.

Chapter 3

The next morning, Jane stepped out into the hallway and set down a bag of garbage so she

could lock her condo door. She blinked rapidly to focus on the lock through the sunglasses—

ridiculous, but necessary to hide her gritty, puffy eyes. Her new neighbor and his girlfriend would get a good belly laugh if they knew that their offhand remarks about her sad little life had caused her a sleepless night of crying into her pillow. She was quite sure she was so insignificant to them that they wouldn’t even recall what they’d said.

While she struggled to slide the key into the keyhole, her new neighbor’s door opened, to

her dismay. She didn’t look up, just stabbed at the keyhole as a flush raced up her neck and face.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Morning,” she murmured, keeping her back to him.

“Having problems?”

“No.” She set her jaw and tried to steady her hand, but she continued to fumble.

Suddenly a large hand closed over hers gently. “Let me.”

She stiffened, but relinquished the key and stepped back from his big body just to escape

his touch. She turned, expecting to see his girlfriend loitering nearby, but he was alone, and dressed in a suit as best as she could tell through her dark lenses. His briefcase sat on the floor next to her garbage bag.

The deadbolt clicked. Then he turned and handed her the keys, flashing a smile.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

“Hey, no wonder you couldn’t see,” he said with a laugh. “What’s up with the shades?”

And before she realized what he was doing, he had lifted them from her face. She blinked

at the sudden light and grabbed to retrieve the glasses, mortified for him to see her swollen, red-rimmed eyes. If he thought she was homely yesterday, this morning she was downright ugly.

She saw him blanch before she jammed the dark glasses back on her face.

“Allergies,” she murmured, then reached for her garbage.

“I got that,” he said, snatching up the bag. “Actually, you can show me where I need to put

my trash.”

She didn’t say anything, just nodded, and walked down the hall to the garbage chute.

“There,” she said, pointing. “See you later.”

She veered off toward the stairs, thinking he’d take the elevator. Instead, after dropping the garbage, he followed her down the stairs.

“Hey, I’m sorry again about the noise last night,” he said. “I didn’t realize the walls were

so thin.”

She didn’t respond—she knew Perry Brewer’s type. He’d throw a few nice words her way,

then ask her to be home to sign for his furniture delivery. Jane picked up the pace and managed to reach the parking garage first.

“I didn’t get your last name,” he said a few paces behind her.

She rolled her eyes—as if he remembered her first name.

He caught up to her and gave her a little smile. “Come on, we’re neighbors—I should

know your last name.”

“It’s Kurtz. Goodbye.” She strode past her empty parking spot toward the guest parking

area, relieved to be away from him, although she could feel his gaze boring into her back,

surveying her chinos, yellow polo shirt, black Skechers sneakers and ponytail. Was he fascinated in her as a geeky specimen?

When she reached her car, she groaned to see a sizable dent in her driver’s side door,

obviously caused by the door of another car that was long gone. She removed her dark glasses

and bent to run her hand over the dent—her car was old, but she tried to take good care of it. To add insult to injury, she realized suddenly that her back tire was flat, caused, no doubt, by the nail sticking out of it. A handful of nails lay scattered around the back of her car, probably dropped by some maintenance worker who also parked in the guest area.

She blinked back hot tears—she didn’t need this. She’d overslept because she was so tired

and was already running late.

At the sound of a car slowing, she turned her head to see the big, black SUV, and Perry

leaning toward the lowered passenger side window. “Need a ride?”

She wiped her eyes and jammed the glasses back on her face. “No, I’ll call a repair

service.”

“That could take a while. I can drop you wherever you need to be.”

She massaged her temples—she just wanted the vile man to go away.

“I feel responsible,” he called, then leaned over and opened the passenger side door. “Let

me do this.”

Jane stared at the open door. Then she glanced at her watch. It would mean the difference

between her getting to work on time or throwing her entire day—and maybe the show—off

schedule.

“Come on,” he cajoled. Jane decided it was the least he could do since his girlfriend was

the root cause of her current predicament.

She walked over and took the hand he extended to climb into the SUV. His fingers were

strong and warm as they enclosed hers. She clambered into the seat with an unladylike bounce, and tugged her hand from his. She closed the door and sat as close to it as possible while she put on her seatbelt. Perry was smiling at her like some kind of gallant knight in training. Even

through the dark glasses, she could see he was more handsome in his suit than he’d been half-

dressed last night. And she was surprised to discover that Nasty Boy had a professional job.

“Where am I taking you?” he asked.

She tore her gaze from him to stare straight ahead and gave him the street address.

“That’s the cable TV station, isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“What do you do for them?”

Jane squirmed, reluctant to give the man any more ammunition to use against her.

“I work on a local talk show.”

“What’s the name of the show?”

“Just Between Us.”

“Hey, that’s the show with the looker host, right?”

“Eve Best…yes, she’s beautiful.” Jane looked out the window, with the words that he’d

said about her own appearance looping in her head. Homely little geek…homely little

geek…homely little geek. She inched closer to the door.

“Sounds like an exciting job,” he said, but she didn’t offer any commentary. The silence

stretched awkwardly, and she willed the morning traffic to move faster.

His cell phone rang and he said, “Excuse me,” then hit a hands-free speaker button on his

visor. “Perry Brewer.”

“You’re late,” a woman’s voice accused.

“Good morning to you, too, Theresa. I’m on my way.”

“You’re due in court in thirty minutes, cowboy. Are you going to make it?”

“I’ll be there,” he said smoothly. “And I have the files I need.”

“I don’t have to tell you what’s riding on this hearing, Perry.”

“No, Theresa, you don’t,” he said, his voice more solemn.

“Good luck. Call me when it’s over.”

“Will do.” He disconnected the call, then glanced over at Jane. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” she said. “But it sounds as if I’m making you late. You can let me out here

and I’ll get a taxi.”

“No need,” he said easily. “We’re almost there, and I’ll be going against traffic when I

leave your office.”

Silence fell between them again, and Jane started to feel rude for not reciprocating his

small talk. “So you’re an attorney?”

He cracked a little smile. “That’s what my business card says.”

“And you have a big case today?”

“Bigger than most.”

She pictured him in front of a courtroom and realized that the man was probably good at

what he did—he was, after all, charming, convincing…two-faced.

With the requisite small talk out of the way, she concentrated on the bumper of the car in

front of them, checked the strap on her shoulder bag and generally fidgeted. The man made her nervous and hyperaware of her appearance. Next to his ultra-feminine girlfriend, she felt like a boy.

And she didn’t like it.

* * *

Perry watched the slender woman next to him out of the corner of his eye, squirming,

positioning herself as far away from him as possible. He felt like a jerk. Seeing those puffy eyes of hers this morning was like a punch to his gut—it didn’t take a genius to figure out that his callous words of the night before had upset her…had made her cry all night from the looks of it.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, remorse coursing through him. Words of

apology watered in his mouth, but he had a feeling that he’d only make things worse if he

brought it up. Still, he had to own up to his bad behavior.

“Listen…Jane,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I have a big mouth and I have a

feeling that you overheard something I said last night that…was unkind.”

She didn’t say anything, but he could tell by the way she stiffened that he was right—she

had overheard him…and her red-rimmed eyes had nothing to do with allergies.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“No need to apologize,” she said quickly, tugging on the strap of her bag. “You have a

right to your opinion.”

“But I didn’t mean it. I was in a bad mood and I’d had too much to drink.”

She gave him a little half smile. “It’s okay, Mr. Brewer—I have a mirror. I know that I’m

not…exciting.”

The resignation in her voice tugged at his heart. “Jane—”

“That’s my building on the corner. I’ll get out here.”

“I’ll drive you to the front—”

But she was already out of the vehicle, swinging down to the curb.

“Do you need a ride home?” he shouted, strangely eager to do something else for her.

“No, thanks. Good luck on your case.” Then she slammed the door and took off jogging

toward the entrance of her building.

He watched her moving away from him, juggling her oversized shoulder bag, her ponytail

bouncing like a teenager’s. Dressed like a coed, she looked young…and alone. And she had

wished him luck on his case…even after what he’d said about her, she had tried to be nice.

Were there really people like that left in the world?

A horn sounded behind him, jarring him out of his reverie. He hit the gas pedal and told

himself to focus—he was facing the biggest case of his career this morning.

Yet all he could think about on the way to the courthouse was the young woman he had

wounded with his careless words. And he realized with a start that he’d like to get to know Jane Kurtz better…if only he could convince her to let him.

Chapter 4

Jane’s skin tingled with humiliation as she hurried to her office. She wasn’t sure what was

worse—knowing what Perry had said about her, or him knowing that she knew.

And him knowing that his words had affected her.

One thing was certain, she realized when she removed her sunglasses in the makeup room

and got a good look at her red, swollen eyes—she was going to have to call upon some major

concealer today, or she would spend the day fending off questions from her coworkers.

So she sat down in front of a brightly lit mirror and for the first time in a long time, began to apply some of her expertise to her own face. With a practiced eye, she dipped a sponge into a pot of foundation that was a shade lighter than her skin tone, and proceeded to erase the damage of the night’s tears…if only it were so easy to erase the damage of his words cutting into her soul. His apology had only driven the knife deeper.

Worse, she couldn’t figure out why she had let his words get to her. Because they had so

directly fed into her own restlessness of late? Because she was worried that she was doomed to be ignored by everyone around her? To be alone indefinitely.

The appearance of her friend Eve Best for her daily makeup application ended Jane’s

musings. “Good morning!”

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