Free Never Say Never by Linda Hill Page A

managed to salvage the weekend,” I assured him, keeping my voice low but playful.
    “Ooh, I’d love to hear all about it. But I’m afraid I’ve got bad news. The programmers ran into some problems over the weekend. Grandfather got wind of it and is on his way to see you.”
    “Oh, great.” I rolled my eyes. Just what I needed.
    “Sorry.” He lifted an armful of computer printouts and stacked them neatly on my desk. “Thought you might want to have a look at these before he gets here.”
    “Thanks.” I flipped through them briefly. “From yesterday?” I asked.
    “Yep. Once you’ve had a chance to get a handle on things, give me a call. We can go over everything then.”
    “Thanks, Billy.”
    “No problem.” He stood up to leave and was almost out of the room before I called out, waving him back in.
    “Have you heard from Sara?” I asked.
    He shook his head. “Didn’t she come back last night?” Last night? Oh my God! Could Sara have actually been next door last night? And this morning? “I hope not,” I muttered aloud.
    “Excuse me?”
    “Oh,” I waved him off. “I don’t think so. At least I didn’t hear her.”
    “Are you worried about her or something?”
    “Kind of. Yeah.” I looked at him hard. “Sara didn’t take it well when I came out to her. I’m worried that she might have flipped out when we took her to the bar last Thursday.”
    “Oh, I don’t think you need to worry. She’ll be fine.” He checked his watch. “She’ll probably be here any minute.” He hesitated, then headed back to the door. “Gotta go, doll. Good luck with John.”
    Reluctantly, I watched him go before turning back to the stacks of paper before me. The next hour was spent assuring John Austin that everything was fine. Bumps were expected during a conversion, everything was on schedule, not to worry, and so forth. He wouldn’t leave my office until I pointed out that the problem wouldn’t get solved if I spent the day talking to him instead of getting to work.

    Once he left, I checked my watch. Ten-thirty. Where was Sara? I had a gnawing fear that she had resigned from the project.
    My anxiety bubbled as I grew more and more certain that she wouldn’t return from Boston.
    I scooted my chair across the floor and gazed out the window at the parking lot. It was a beautiful day. Gorgeous. A perfect day to play hooky. Michelle’s laughter came to mind. So sweet. I had enjoyed her this weekend. Thoroughly. The thought crossed my mind again that Sara might have been in her room last night.
    I thought hard, trying to remember if I’d heard anything. Not that you would have noticed. I rubbed my eyes and blinked, trying to clear the cobwebs. No, the silence from the other side of the adjoining door was deafening over the weekend. I was almost certain that she hadn’t been there.
    “You sure look awfully tired.” Poof. Sara was there beside me, leaning her hands on the windowsill and looking down at me. All smiles. “Rough weekend?” She raised a brow and sat in a facing chair, crossing long legs at the knee and tugging at the hem of the skirt that just barely covered her thighs. There was no mistaking the innuendo in her voice. Uh-oh. Maybe she had been there after all. My nervousness quickly changed, replaced with an odd mixture of anger, relief, and frustration. I wasn’t in the mood for her repartee. I didn’t reply immediately, but held back to check my anger, boldly eyeing her from her legs back up to her face.
    “No.” I knew my voice had an edge. My eyes bored into hers.
    “Actually, there was nothing rough about it.” I scored a hit. Her eyes flickered briefly.
    “You didn’t go home,” she stated.
    “No.” I knew what she was thinking, what she was hinting at. But I wasn’t about to let her know. “Why would I want to go home when I can have so much fun here?” I laughed and picked up a computer printout, flipped through it, and tossed it carelessly to the floor.
    She actually