Monkey Wrench by Nancy Martin Page B

Joe to make decisions. What’s happening to me? Usually she made the tough decisions for the people around her, then Josie put them into motion. Here was Joe taking charge completely.
    â€œNow, the basement,” he said. “You want to leave these glasses in the kitchen before we go down there?”
    Susannah stared at the empty glasses in her hands and couldn’t remember drinking the rest of her Sizzler. But her glass was empty, and she felt a pleasant little buzz in her head. “Yes, I do.”
    He grinned a little. “Maybe you’d like another drink?”
    â€œNot so early in the morning,” Susannah protested. “I’m already feeling tipsy.”
    â€œOh,” said Joe, smiling into her eyes. “Good.”
    Susannah showed him the basement door without further delay. He escorted her into the darkness, and while following him down the steps, Susannah found herself admiring the breadth of his shoulders and wondering how it might feel to run her palms across the muscled contour—thoughts highly inappropriate for a woman who normally had little time for noticing attractive men.
    Behave yourself, she thought.
    The basement was cool and dry, and Joe’s haunting voice echoed in the far reaches of the dark rooms. He shone his flashlight into the old coal bin, and Susannah watched the play of indirect light on his rugged face while he talked. It was not the face of a playboy, she thought. More like a slightly past-his-prime Roman god.
    Stop it, she ordered herself. You’ve got more important things on your mind.
    â€œSo that’s about it,” Joe said, scribbling a few final notes in his little book. He was left-handed, Susannah realized, and he curled his hand around the pencil in a way that sent her imagination into action again. What else might that hand curl around so provocatively?
    This is ridiculous, she told herself, closing her eyes.
    â€œYou okay?” Joe asked, pausing on the steps.
    Susannah’s eyes flew open. “Yes, I’m fine.”
    â€œYou looked a little—”
    â€œI just realized I need to make a phone call, that’s all. My trip, you see. I should get in touch with some people.”
    â€œOh.” He leaned against the crooked hand railing. “You’re going to the beach after all, hmm?”
    â€œI haven’t decided yet. But I need to alert my traveling companion about the uncertainty of my plans.”
    â€œTraveling companion,” Joe repeated thoughtfully. “Last night your grandmother called him your boss. I guess he’s more than just the guy who signs your paycheck.”
    â€œHe’s a friend,” Susannah corrected carefully. “We’re equals in the workplace, you could say.”
    â€œHow about outside the workplace?”
    â€œMr. Santori—”
    â€œYou’d better call me Joe. I feel like a schoolteacher when you call me Mr. Santori.”
    â€œJoe, then. My relationship with my boss isn’t important right now—”
    â€œThat’s too bad.”
    â€œThat’s not what I meant!” Susannah protested, hearing the implication in Joe’s voice. “Roger and I are...we... Sometimes we take trips together.”
    â€œTo talk about work,” Joe recalled. “You’re going to the beach to plan your program.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThat doesn’t sound like a relaxing vacation.”
    â€œFor me, it’s very relaxing.”
    â€œYou must love your work.”
    â€œI do,” she said truthfully. “It’s exciting and challenging and...well, I’m devoted to it.”
    â€œI like my work, too, but I’d never say I’m devoted to it.”
    â€œLook,” Susannah said patiently, “I know what you’re trying not to say. You think I’m obsessed with my job.”
    Joe smiled a little. “Are you?”
    â€œMaybe,” Susannah said steadily. “But I like it that