Free Windswept by Ann Macela Page A

applied herself to the meal.
    Just as she decided she couldn’t eat another bite, Gonzales came into the room. “I have unloaded your car and placed it in the garage. Here are the keys and additional keys to the kitchen and the front doors.” He handed her the sets and continued, “Please allow me to instruct you how the alarm system works. Eva and I reside in the apartment over the garage, and we always set the system when we leave the house, usually between seven and eight, and you will need to disarm and reset it if you go out or return later than that.”
    “Certainly,” Barrett said and followed him to the front door.
    After she could turn the system on and off to her and Gonzales’ satisfaction, Barrett unpacked her clothes and toiletries, then picked up her laptop case, iPod and docking station, and briefcase and went down to her new office. She felt the tug of the boxes as she went past the conference room door, but she resisted. “Be strong,” she ordered out loud. “Be disciplined. Settle in first so you’ll be organized.”
    A closet held supplies like paper and staples, boxes of white cotton gloves for document handling, a stack of new, still flattened, acid-free storage boxes and several cartons of acid-free folders, as she had requested. She’d transfer the records to them as she went along. The small round table and chairs by the windows offered a comfortable alternative to sitting at the desk. The L-shaped desk was clean, the computer boasted a good-sized flat-screen monitor, and the chair was ergonomic, thank goodness.
    She peeked into Davis’s office. Peggy Murphy had told her he would be on a trip when she arrived. The news brought both a twinge of regret and one of relief. Regret . . . what? She wouldn’t have an audience to astound with her expertise? He wouldn’t be here to remove the awkwardness of being in a stranger’s house without his presence? She wasn’t sure where the feeling came from.
    She knew, however, exactly where the relief originated. She could get to work without distraction. She’d have the papers all to herself. She wouldn’t have to deal with his silences and intent, enigmatic looks.
    Or with any possible attraction to the man. Her inexplicable reaction in his downtown office had not repeated itself when she said good-bye at his house the following afternoon. Sure, his handshake had been warm, his smile transforming. His low voice had sounded more reassuring than hard. He’d actually spoken in full paragraphs, declarative sentences, not interrogatory ones.
    True, his statements had more of a “laying down the law” flavor than any beseeching of her to please catalog the collection, but it was to be expected. Edgar had done no less; in fact the grandson had sounded remarkably like his grandfather when setting her parameters.
    At least they hadn’t parted with a meeting of the eyes that sizzled her blood. She wasn’t sure how she would have handled herself if something similar had occurred. She’d been so high from making the deal her blood was already bubbling. It would have taken a powerful reaction to sidetrack her from her zeal for the papers. She probably wouldn’t have noticed anything less overt than his grabbing her and kissing her.
    What? Kissing her? Where did she get such a notion?
    Shaking her head at her screwy thought processes, Barrett turned back to her desk. Enough lollygagging.
    It only took a few minutes to unpack her few supply items and boot the computer. An envelope from Peggy Murphy sat on the keyboard and held complete instructions for passwords, network access, and the like to access the Davis office network. Everything worked perfectly.
    “Done. Showtime,” she announced to the world and pushed back from the desk with a grin. “Now, finally, Windswept!”
    She opened the door to the conference room and, for a moment, simply stood in the doorway gloating at her good fortune. She decided first to open a couple of the boxes just to see