Chapter 92 - Another Kind Of Laundry Day

Lila

As Tish looked back and forth between them, Dane took her cue. "Leave the RSVP as it is, Tish. We'll go."

Tish sighed with relief and thanked them both, then walked out, leaving Lila with the invites. When she'd made it out to the hall Lila turned to Dane. "What is it about her?" she asked a little more sharply than she'd intended.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, she's so nervous. She was scared to ask you about this," She flapped the invitations. "Why do you keep her around? I remember from the very first day wondering what it was that made you keep her. She seems too… high strung for you."

Dane shrugged. "She's been with me for two years. She's anxious, yeah, but not as bad as she used to be. And she's surprisingly good in a crisis. It's like once her fears happen, instead of crying, she kicks butt and takes names."

Lila thought back to the birthday disaster, remembering that she'd observed that strength in Tish at the time—while everyone else fell apart, she quietly went around cleaning up messes and helping people.

"How did you know though?" she asked him. "I mean, did she not interview nervous or something?"

"Actually, she was a mess," he said and smiled a little. "I had dismissed her from consideration in the first few minutes because she was just so nervous. I thought she'd never be able to handle what we do. I was just going through the motions of finishing the interview. But while she was there I had a Code Red call about a client who was in immediate danger. It was all hands on deck, and she just… helped. She kept anticipating what I'd need. We were two hours in before I realized we'd never finished the interview. She proved invaluable very quickly. She hasn't left since."

"Don't her nerves make you tense?"

"Not anymore. I get tense when I feel like people are weak, yet won't see the danger they're in. That's one thing I'll give Tish, she's always aware of the risk." He chuckled and Lila smiled at his obvious affection for the woman. Then her eyes caught on the invitations in her hand and she sighed. Dane Daniels plus one. There was even one for her—Delilah Farris plus one.

"Friday, huh?" She clenched her teeth and looked at Dane.

"Not now," he said soft and low. "Not here. We'll talk about it tonight."

She just stared until he got up and left.

*****

Dane

It's a risk he shouldn't take, but the pressure was building within him, creating so much tension in him his jaw was beginning to cramp. So, when the driver dropped him off in the parking lot of the apartment building, it wasn't the Penthouse button he pushed on the elevator.

It was the fourth floor, where Lila lived.

He didn't warn her, he wasn't sure why. He'd already said they'd talk tonight. She had to know he was planning on seeing her. But for some reason it didn't feel fair to bring her to the Penthouse, not when they had to discuss this. So, he put his big boy pants on and knocked on her door, praying the file folder under his arm was cover enough if he saw anyone else on the floor.

She opened the door and stopped, surprised. "Dane?" Then she blinked and looked out in the hall, pulling him into the apartment and shutting the door quickly. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

It was after nine. He'd been at work fourteen hours today. He knew he was rumpled and creased, and he'd really pissed her off that afternoon. But as she stood there in black yoga pants, a white turtleneck, and an oversized sleeveless cardigan, her hair twisted up into a messy bun on her head, she looked beautiful.

"I told you we'd talk tonight," he said carefully. They were still standing in her entryway.

"I figured you'd text me when you were home. I was going to do laundry," she said, but it lacked the normal grin she had when she said it.

"I know, but… I know I made things worse today. So, I thought maybe it was my turn to come to you."

She sighed, then walked up and put her arms around his waist. He wrapped her in a hug and sighed too. "Thank you," she murmured into his chest.

"I'm sorry about today. But we need to figure out this ball—" he started, but she stiffened, then pulled out of his arms and walked into the living room without looking at him.

"Come have a seat," she said flatly.

Frowning, Dane followed. She let him sit first then sat next to him, but just out of reach. She still hadn't looked at him.

Fear spiked in his gut.

When she'd settled into her seat and leaned forward with her arms on her knees, he scooted closer and put his arm on the back of the couch behind her.

She gave him a flat look, but didn't say anything.

"So?" he said.

"So? What?"

"How do you want to do this?" he said, aching to be able to just take her in his arms and forget the rest of the world existed for an hour or two.

"You tell me. You're the expert here on normal routines and strategic dates."

"Lila…"

"What?"

They stared at each other and he shifted closer. She didn't look happy about it, but didn't move away.

"If there was any other way—any other at all, you know I'd do it, right?" he said huskily.

She huffed. "Yes," she muttered reluctantly.

"I wish it didn't need to be done. If you can tell me that it's a bad idea, I will gladly say we aren't coming. But I got the impression today—"

"It's definitely smarter to go," she sighed and dropped her head into one hand. "I just…"

"I know. You think I want to think about someone else touching you?"

She cut him a dark look.

.

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