“You stole my briefcase!” Kaitlin felt compelled to bring everyone back to the main point. “Was this entire dinner a ruse?”
She shook her head to clear it. “Of course it was a ruse. You’re despicable, Zach. If I hadn’t told Lindsay you’d invited me here. And if she didn’t have a very suspicious nature—”
“A correctly suspicious nature,” Lindsay pointed out to both men.
“—you’d have gotten away with it.”
“I was planning to put it back,” Dylan defended.
“I need to see the designs,” said Zach, not a trace of apology in his tone. “My company, your company, pretend all you like, but I’m the guy signing the check. And I’m the guy left picking up the pieces once your game is over.”
“That game happens to be my life.” She wasn’t playing around here. If she didn’t fix her career, she didn’t have a job. If she didn’t have a job, there was nobody to pay rent, nobody to buy food.
He brought his hand down on the table. “And whatever’s left when the dust clears happens to be mine.”
Sick to death of the contest of wills, Kaitlin capitulated.
She waved a hand toward her briefcase. “Fine. Go ahead. There’s nothing you can do to change them anyway. You don’t like ’em, complain all you want. I will ignore you.”
Zach wasted no time in snagging the briefcase from the bench seat between him and Lindsay. He snapped open the clasps, lifted the lid and extracted the folded plans. He awkwardly spread them out on the round table.
Just then, the waiter arrived and glanced around for a place to set the coffee.
Zach ignored him, and the man signaled for a folding tray stand.
Kaitlin accepted a coffee. She took her cup in her hand, sipping it while she sat back to wait for Zach’s reaction.
She suspected he’d be angry. Her designs called for some pretty fundamental and expensive changes to his building. But a small part of her couldn’t help but hope he’d surprise her.
Maybe he had better taste than she thought. Maybe he’d recognize her genius. Maybe he’d—
“Are you out of your ever-lovin’ mind?” His gray eyes all but glowed in anger.
Five
In the restaurant’s parking garage, Lindsay twisted the key in the ignition of her silver Audi Coupe and pushed the shifter into Reverse. They peeled out of the narrow parking spot and into the driving lane.
“I suppose that could have been worse,” Kaitlin admitted as they zipped toward the exit from the underground.
Zach had hated the renovation designs. No big surprise there. But since they were in a public place, he couldn’t very well yell at her. So, that was a plus. And she wouldn’t change them. He could gripe as much as he liked about a modern lobby not being in keeping with his corporate image, but they both knew it was about money.
Lindsay pressed a folded bill into the parking lot attendant’s hand. “He stole your briefcase.”
“I knew not seeing them was making him crazy,” said Kaitlin, still getting over the shock at this turn of events. “But I sure didn’t think he’d go that far.”
Lindsay flipped on her signal, watching the traffic on the busy street. “All that righteous indignation, the insistence on principles.”
“I know,” Kaitlin added rapidly in agreement. “The lectures, the protestations, and then wham.” She smacked her hands together. “He steals the drawings right out from under my nose.”
“I’m not a pirate,” Lindsay mocked as she quickly took the corner, into a small space in traffic. “Nobody in my family was ever a pirate.”
Kaitlin turned to stare at her friend. “What?”
“We have morals and principles.”
“Are you talking about Zach?”
“Zach didn’t steal your drawings.”
“He sure did,” said Kaitlin.
“Dylan was the guy with the briefcase in his hands.”
“Only because Zach asked him to get it. Dylan’s just being loyal.”
“Ha!” Lindsay coughed out a laugh.
“Linds?” Kaitlin searched her friend’s profile.
Lindsay changed lanes on the brightly lit street, setting up for a left turn. “What?”
“I say again. Do you think you’re getting a little obsessed with Dylan Gilby?”
“The man’s a thief and a reprobate.”
“Maybe. But Zach’s our problem.”
Lindsay didn’t answer. She adjusted her rearview mirror then changed the radio station.
“I think Zach’ll leave it alone now,” she said. “I mean, he’s seen the drawings. He gave it his best—”