Free Unnatural Relations (Lust and Lies Series, Book 1) by Marilyn Campbell

the estate my whole life," he said, more to himself than her. "Everyone always figured I'd take over Pop's position one of these days."
    "Maybe they'll ask you to come back."
    Russ snorted. "Not after everything I said to Mr. Hamilton." In a frighteningly swift mood change, he slammed his fist down on the counter so hard the cups rattled. "Damn, but that son-of-a-bitch had it coming. He never cared how many people he stepped on to get what he wanted. You wouldn't believe how many times I almost told him off, but I always managed to keep my mouth shut. But breaking up you and Howard the way he did—I thought that was the lowest. Then I heard him talking filthy about you with that creep lawyer of his, and, well, I guess I went a little nuts."
    Barbara felt the queasiness in her stomach again. "Oh, Russ, please don't tell me you lost your job and your home because of me."
    He ran his hand over her hair and grinned. "Don't worry about it, babe. With my temper, it was bound to happen sooner or later."
    The teakettle whistled as she was about to question him further. When he reached around her to take it off the burner and their hands bumped, she said, "Why don't you go sit down and I'll bring you a cup?"
    "That's okay. I'd rather help. I don't want you treating me like a guest while I'm here."
    Despite her gentle hint, he remained close to her until the tea was brewed. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something about him seemed different. Or was it the change in her own circumstances that made the difference? When he sat down on the bed, she purposely chose the chair farthest from him to give herself some breathing room. He had only been staying with her for fifteen minutes, but she was already feeling crowded. Though she didn't want to be rude, she suddenly needed to know exactly how long he planned to stay. "So, what are your options?"
    He shrugged and made a face. "Gardening is the only work I've ever done, and I sure can't expect to get a recommendation from Mr. Hamilton to go work for one of his rich friends." He pulled a cigarette out of the pack in his shirt pocket, then remembered his manners. "Do you mind?"
    She remembered how long the smoke had lingered after his last visit and decided honesty would be better than choking to death. "Actually, I do," she said in an apologetic tone. "It's just that this is such a small apartment—"
    "Hey, that's cool," he said, tucking the cigarette away. "I should cut down anyway."
    "Good idea. Now to decide what you could do for work." Recalling the beautiful floral arrangements he had effortlessly put together for the mansion, she suggested, "You could open a flower shop."
    A flash of interest showed in his eyes before he killed it. "I've only got two thousand dollars. It would take a lot more than that just to get started. Anyway, I don't know anything about running a business."
    "Okay. But you could learn. How about if you went to work for a florist to learn the ropes, and in the meantime you'd keep saving up for your own shop?"
    The interest came alive again. "Maybe I could even have a little street vendor business on the side... when the weather's good."
    "Or you could move to a place with a warmer climate and do the street vendor thing year-round." She was thinking of Los Angeles or Miami, somewhere far from New York.
    He shook his head. "Nah. I wouldn't want to move that far from Pop. He's getting up there, you know. But I think you've got me on the right track."
    "Good," she said, and drank the last of her tea. "Now, since you don't want to be treated like a guest, I won't bother being polite. I'm beat, and you're sitting on my bed."
    As he had the other night, he pulled the lower trundle mattress out, but didn't raise it to be level with hers. She would have preferred to disconnect the framework completely and put some space between them, but there was no place for it to be moved without rearranging the entire room. As exhausted as she'd been lately, the effort didn't