Dreaming Of… Italy

“I’m sorry—”

Temper rumbled through him. It was one thing to be clueless about the etiquette of an executive office, to need some experience. It was another to be rude and open a door without knocking. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know how to operate the space shuttle’s worth of computer equipment you refer to as a phone, and a call—”

He sighed. “You’re supposed to screen calls. I don’t talk to just anybody who phones. Go find out who it is. Take their number. I’ll decide if I’m calling back.”

Her mouth thinned. Her pretty blue eyes filled with storm clouds.

Fine. He didn’t like wimps. But he also didn’t like interruptions. And there was no better way for an assistant to learn that than by having to go back to her desk and apologize to a caller.

“It isn’t a caller. At least not a call for you. The security guard in the lobby is on the line. You have a guest.”

“Same instructions. I don’t see people who just drop in. Call the lobby, tell them to get the person’s name and if I want to I will call him back and schedule an appointment.”

“Okay. I guess that means you don’t want to see Maria Bartulocci.”

His head snapped up. “What?”

“Maria Bartulocci is here. She wants to know if you have time for her. I guess the über-rich don’t just know how to keep themselves out of the limelight. They also drop in unexpectedly.”

He replaced the receiver of his phone. “Tell them to send her up. Then get a notebook. I want you to sit in and take notes.”

She nodded and raced back to her desk.

Missing experienced, polite, sophisticated Betsy, Tucker ran his fingers through his hair. Two minutes later the elevator bell rang. He listened as Olivia greeted Maria and sighed with relief when she was nothing but polite and efficient.

Thick cloying perfume reached him long before dark-haired, dark-eyed Maria did. Tall and regal, educated at Harvard, and well-versed in art and music, Maria was exactly the kind of woman Tucker liked to be seen with. Arm candy with a brain.

“Tucker, how sweet of you to make time for me.”

* * *

Vivi almost gagged. Holy cow on the cologne, but calling Tucker Engle sweet? This woman obviously wanted something.

“I’m sorry for the wait.” He glanced at Olivia, then smiled at Maria. “A little miscommunication with my assistant.”

Vivi shook off the insult of that. He hadn’t told her any of his preferences, especially not about calls. But he probably assumed she knew those kinds of things, which meant she’d have another assignment that night. Not only did she have to figure out how to stifle her tongue, but she’d have to call her mom, a lifelong administrative assistant, to learn a bit about working for the top banana of a company.

“I’m thrilled you decided to drop in on us.” Tucker seated Maria with him on the sofa and motioned for Vivi to sit on the chair beside it.

She opened her notebook.

Maria smiled at her. “No need to record our conversation, darling.”

“Miss Prentiss isn’t going to record our conversation, just the salient points.”

Laughing, she patted Tucker’s knee. “Is your memory that bad, Tucker?”

He slid his arm across the sofa, and nearly around Maria. “There are three of you. I’m going to talk with all of you and compare stories.”

Her lips turned down into a pretty pout. “Really? You don’t trust me?”

He chuckled. “A man doesn’t get to where I am without having fail-safe mechanisms in place. Miss Prentiss is one of them.”

Maria’s gaze crawled over to her.

She took in Vivi’s khaki trousers and simple white blouse. Then the long strawberry blonde hair Vivi had put into a ponytail that hung over her shoulder.

“I see.”

A flush crept up Vivi’s neck to her cheeks. As if the condescending appraisal wasn’t bad enough, Maria Bartulocci’s tone dripped with disapproval.

Memories of walking down the street, being pointed at, whispered about and called names rushed through her. It had been a long time since she’d remembered that, but it had also been a while since she’d been with someone who so clearly disliked her.

Still, those bullies had nothing to do with her job, so she ignored the feelings, the memories. She’d learned lots of coping skills in the three years that had passed, and it would take more than a crappy look from a snotty socialite to drag her down.

Tucker said, “Rumor has it your uncle is considering retiring.”

“That’s not a rumor. It’s true.”

“Has he set a date?”

“More like a time frame. Next spring.” Maria rose. “Take me to lunch and I’ll tell you about your competition.”

Tucker followed suit, rising to stand beside her. “I know my competition.”

“Such a smart man,” Maria purred, stepping up to him and running her hand down his tie. “Let’s leave the little one behind and get ourselves a drink.” She flicked her gaze at Vivi with a laugh. “Really, Tucker, where did you find this one? And why don’t you pay her enough to buy decent clothes?”

Vivi’s mouth fell open. Seriously? A stinky debutante who was throwing herself at a man had the audacity to criticize her clothes?

Tucker caught Maria’s hand and led her to the elevator, leaving Vivi behind without a backward glance or even a nod toward telling her how long he’d be gone or how he could be reached in an emergency.

“I don’t care what my employees look like. They only have to be able to do their jobs.”

The elevator door opened. “I know, but seriously. Did you get a look at her?”

She heard Tucker’s voice, but couldn’t make out what he said or Maria’s reply. The door closed on his laugh.

Vivi glanced down at herself. These were her best trousers, her best blouse. And even she knew she looked like a street waif.

She might have coping mechanisms, but she couldn’t argue the truth. She didn’t belong here.

CHAPTER TWO

HUMILIATION AND DISAPPOINTMENT followed Vivi out of the city and up the stairs to the two-bedroom apartment she shared with her university friends Laura Beth Matthews and Eloise Vaughn. Because she and the Grim Reaper had worked late, she knew her roommates would have already eaten supper. The scent of spaghetti permeated the darkly paneled walls of the hall to their third-floor walkup. But she didn’t care. She was too tired to eat.

Short, sweet, brunette Laura Beth gasped as Vivi entered the apartment. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks.” She walked to the refrigerator, which was only ten feet away from the sofa in their tiny, open-floor-plan living space, and pulled out a bottle of water.

Eloise, a tall blonde beauty whose wealthy parents had spoiled her rotten, laughed. “First day of accounting not fun?”

“I’m not in Accounting.”

Laura Beth patted the couch cushion beside her and motioned for Vivi to sit. “What happened?”

“Tucker Engle’s assistant was in an accident and no one else will work with him. So I have to be his assistant for about eight weeks. But that’s all I can tell you because “the” Tucker Engle might share secrets with me, so I’m not allowed to talk to anyone about anything that goes on in his office. Otherwise, I think it’s an ethics violation.”

Eloise and Laura Beth just stared at her.

Vivi squeezed her eyes shut in misery. “I’m sorry for babbling. I’m tired.”

“You’re freaking out,” Eloise corrected.

“You would be, too, if you spent twelve hours working with a guy you didn’t like, who has visitors who are obnoxious.”

“You didn’t punch anybody did you?”

Vivi took a long drink of water. “No, but I was tempted.”

“Are you going to tell us details or are you going to make us guess?”

“I already told you I can’t reveal anything that goes on in that office. Confidentiality and all that. But I will say this—I haven’t been treated so rudely in three years.”

Eloise and Laura Beth exchanged a look. “Bad things happened to you three years ago.”

“Exactly.”

Laura Beth caught her hand. “Maybe you shouldn’t have taken the assignment.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“So you have to work with a guy who reminds you of the worst time in your life?” Eloise sucked in a breath. “At least tell me he doesn’t look like Cord.”

“No and he doesn’t act like him either.” Cord had always been the life of everybody’s party. Grouchy Tucker Engle barely smiled. “But his one visitor today was exactly like Cord’s mom...Cordelia Dawson. The woman who thinks her son does no wrong.”

“You mean the woman who defended the kid who got you drunk and then attacked you. He would have raped you if you hadn’t gotten away.”

Vivi froze. They’d talked about this before, but never had Eloise been so blunt, so casual. Laura Beth shot her a warning look.

“Well, I’m sorry, but I think it’s better for her to talk about it than to let it fester.” She patted Vivi’s hand. “Right?”

“Actually, yes.” Before that morning, she hadn’t thought about being attacked in at least a year. All because she had friends who believed her. Talking, finding people who didn’t merely believe her but who’d hurt with her until the hurt was gone, had made her whole.

But she was in the big city now, not in Starlight, Kentucky, at their tiny university. She had to make this job work. “I can tolerate Tucker Engle and his obnoxious guests for eight or so weeks. In fact, I’ll do more than tolerate them. I’ll be the best damned assistant he’s ever had. Then when his real assistant returns I’ll go to Accounting where I belong.”

Eloise said, “That’s the spirit.”

Laura Beth patted her hand. “How about if I reheat the leftover spaghetti?”

“No thanks.” Vivi rose from the sofa. “I’m exhausted. I think I’ll just go to bed.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. My past is behind me.” She forced a smile. “Plus, if tomorrow’s anything like today, I’ll need all the rest I can get.”

After washing her face and changing into pajamas, she crawled into her twin bed beside Laura Beth’s, pulled out her cell phone and hit speed dial.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Vivi? What time is it?”

“It’s around ten. Did I wake you?”

“No, but if I don’t get out of bed, I’ll wake your father.” There was a quiet pause and the click of the closing of her mom’s bedroom door. “So what’s up? How was your first day at Inferno?”

“Awful. I’m not working in Accounting. I’m the assistant to the CEO.”

“Oh! That’s exciting!”

Unexpected relief unknotted the tight muscles of her shoulders. If her mom thought this was exciting, then maybe it was. “Really? I should be happy?”

“You’re working with the guy at the top. You should be taking advantage of the opportunity to make a good impression.”

“He’s kind of a grouch.”

“Most older men are.”

“Actually, he’s not older.”

“He isn’t?”

“He’s kind of young.”

Worry filled her mom’s voice. “How young?”

“Thirty-ish.”

“Thirty-ish? And he’s a CEO?”

“He’s the owner of the company. Which is why he’s so bossy. I read online that some of his employees call him the Grim Reaper.”

There was a silence. Then her mom said, “I don’t like this.”

Drat. She should have realized her overprotective mother would be suspicious of any man under fifty. Since her episode with Cord, her parents distrusted every man who looked at her twice. Which was part of the reason she’d moved to New York. She needed some space.

“I’m fine. I’m working for him, not dating him. Plus, his assistant will be back in a few weeks.”

“A lot can happen in a few weeks.”

“Including that I could prove myself to him like you said I should.”

“I don’t know, Vivi. I suddenly got really bad vibes about this guy.”

“They’re the wrong kind of vibes. Mr. Engle has zero interest in me. And all I want is to be able to do this job.”

Her mom grudgingly mumbled, “You should be fine. Your grades were great.”

“I know I can handle the work. I just need to know some of the etiquette.”

Loraina filled her in on a few tips for answering the phone and not speaking unless asked a direct question, but she finished her remarks with, “You be careful with this guy.”

As that warning came out of her mother’s mouth she winced, realizing what was coming next.

“Your dad and I didn’t want you moving to the city. If you could be attacked in a small town by someone you’d known since high school...how the devil can you trust yourself to eight million strangers?”

“I’ll be fine, Mom.”

“It’s just that we worry.”

“I know. But trust me. This guy isn’t even slightly attracted to me.”

Her mother huffed out a breath. “You think. But you’re a pretty blonde—”

“Who doesn’t have the right clothes or makeup or manners to attract a guy like him.” She laughed, remembering the way he liked stinky Maria purring up to him. “Seriously, Mom. I’m perfectly safe with him.”

They ended the call, and she settled down on her pillow. Exhausted, she immediately fell asleep and didn’t stir until her alarm woke her the next morning.

She showered, headed for her closet and stared at her clothes. She had three pairs of taupe, tan or beige trousers, one pair of dark brown, one pair of gray and one pair of black, as well as seven or eight mix-and-match tops and two summer sundresses that she saved for “good.”

Her gaze rolled to her bedroom door. Across the hall was the queen of clothes. Eloise had everything from business suits to ball gowns. They were the same size. She could borrow a nice dress or a fancy blouse and probably fit better into Tucker Engle’s world—

No, damn it. She refused to let some condescending socialite bully her into trying to be somebody she wasn’t. She was a simple girl. Someone who wanted to prove herself based on her skills and abilities, not her looks. And after her mother’s reminder that she should take advantage of this time to prove herself, she’d decided that’s how she’d endure these eight weeks. She’d prove herself with her work. Not dress like somebody she wasn’t.

* * *

When the elevator door outside Tucker’s office door opened, he glanced up and saw Olivia Prentiss entering. Today she wore gray trousers with a gray blazer and some kind of clunky sandals. He stifled a laugh. After the way Maria had treated her, he’d wondered if she’d change the way she dressed. He gave her credit for not buckling under to Maria’s insults. In fact, he gave her points for that. He hadn’t hired her to be pretty or fashionable. They had work to do.

He hung up his phone and walked to the outer office. “Good morning, Miss Prentiss.”

She slid her worn backpack to her chair. “Good morning.”

Her soft voice told him she didn’t want to be here. If she stayed this unhappy, it was going to be a long eight weeks.

He headed for his desk. “We have a busy day today.”

She followed him. “Should I get a notebook?”

“No.” He paused for a second then made up his mind. Working for him had its boring elements. But he also did some fun things. Maybe if he took her to his signing that morning, she’d see the value of being his assistant. “I need you to study certain files before we go to a meeting.”

“We’re going out?”

He fell to his chair. “Yes. I’m signing papers this morning to buy a controlling interest in a startup.”

Her eyes lit. “Really?”

A zing of pleasure ricocheted through him. He wasn’t the kind of guy who needed his employees to be daft with joy all the time. But he did love enthusiasm. And he had made her smile. Which was probably the reason for the zing. Her whole beautiful face lit when she smiled.

“I don’t want any snags. So, just in case, I want you and Betsy’s laptop with me.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“If there’s a question or a problem and I need information, you must be able to find the document and the information in the document.”

“From the laptop?”

“Yes.” He leaned back in his chair. “I don’t keep my files in the company network. It’s all in that laptop or my personal internet storage. Betsy had a very simple filing system. You should be able to figure it out quickly. Everything is in a folder called Jason. There will be subfolders under that with names like Legal Documents, Agreement, Financials, Personal. Peruse everything. Get familiar enough that you can find what I need when I need it.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“As I said, I don’t think there will be a problem. The agreements are already written and preliminarily approved. But just in case.”

She nodded and left the room. He stared after her. Her pretty pink top outlined a slim torso. The gray trousers hugged a shapely bottom. Today her long hair cascaded down her back, a shiny strawberry blonde waterfall.

Even dressed like an office worker, she was a knockout. But something was definitely off about this woman. He understood that with her blue-collar background she wasn’t quite as classy as most of the women he knew. But that wasn’t it. There was something more. She was too cautious.

Shaking his head, he went back to his call list. As long as she did her work, whatever was wrong with her wasn’t any of his business.

* * *

Vivi spent the next hour skimming files, agreements, financial reports.

A little after ten, Tucker came out of his office, carrying a briefcase. “My car is waiting.”

Anticipation stole through her. She probably should have been embarrassed to be so thrilled, but Tucker Engle made superstars out of upstarts, and she would be at one of his agreement signings. She would see what he said, how he behaved. If nothing else, she would see a sharp, savvy guy in action.

They rode down in the private elevator in silence. With the strap of the laptop case over her shoulder and standing straight as an arrow in her gray pants and blazer, she felt like an executive.

The elevator door opened and she followed Tucker Engle to the revolving door and the waiting black limo. He motioned her in first and she slid across the plush leather seat. He sat beside her.

Her blood virtually hummed with joy, but a knot of fear shadowed it. She’d found the files, familiarized herself with the agreements, the background financials and the sub-agreements over things like whose name would be where as well as the side perks given to the two founders of Jason Jones, a search engine that did simple background checks for real people. She was as ready as she’d ever be.

“Jason Jones is an interesting concept.”

Vivi couldn’t believe she’d actually spoken, but her excitement had gotten the better of her. And now Tucker Engle would reprimand her.

But he surprised her by chuckling. “When I heard about it, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it myself.”

“You think you should have come up with it?”

He shrugged. “I would have liked to have thought of it.” He peeked at her. “But the best inventions come from ordinary people.”

“Really?”

“Yes. People with problems get frustrated looking for answers and sometimes invent or create something with universal appeal.”

She nodded.

“Take our startup for instance. Jason Jones is the code name for a private investigator who followed the ex-girlfriend of one of the founders, watching her until he found sufficient evidence to have her convicted of stalking.”

She gasped. “One of the founders was stalked?”

“The woman nearly ruined Ricky’s life until he realized he had to be proactive and hire a private investigator. The fees were exorbitant. Ricky knew he could have avoided the whole mess if he’d been able to search her on the internet before he asked her out.”

“But he could have done that.”

“No. He could have done a search but not necessarily gotten access to the information that would have saved him. He investigated the systems and Elias Greene wrote the programs. Now innocent men and women everywhere will be able to know a prospective date’s complete history for fifty bucks and the click of a few keys.”

“Amazing.”

“Which is exactly why with my help the company will eventually be worth about a hundred million dollars.”

The limo rolled to a stop in front of a shiny glass-and-chrome building. They rode to the penthouse in another private elevator, which opened onto a living room. Electric-blue chairs angled beside a black leather-and-chrome sofa, which sat on a modern print rug. A wet bar took up the entire left wall. Huge windows at the back of the room let in the June sunshine as they displayed another fantastic view of the New York City skyline.

Olivia’s breath stuttered. She couldn’t believe she was here. Not just in a fantastic city, but part of a huge financial deal. Maybe working with Tucker Engle wouldn’t be so bad after all?

Two men bounced off the sofa and raced to greet Tucker.

“Hey, Tuck.” The first one—a guy who was a lot older than she’d expected, extended his hand. “Big day for us.”

“A big day for all of us,” Tucker agreed. He motioned to Vivi. “My assistant, Miss Prentiss.”

He shook her hand. “I’m Rick Langley.” With black hair and silky brown eyes, he was gorgeous. She could understand how he’d meet a woman who wouldn’t want to let him go. “The guy with the good fortune to be stalked.”

She laughed.

“And I’m Elias Greene.”

Vivi shook his hand, surprised when he gave an extra squeeze before releasing her.

Rick bounded to the bar. “Do you want a drink while we wait for our perpetually late lawyers?”

“Miss Prentiss and I are good.” He turned to Vivi. “Unless you’d like a water?”

She smiled her appreciation. In one easy sentence, he’d gotten her out of a potentially uncomfortable situation. He really, really wasn’t so bad.

She faced Ricky. “Water would be great, thanks. I’d also love a place to set up the laptop.”

Elias raced over and took the laptop from her hands. “We’re using the dining table as our conference table.”

“Sounds great.”

Tucker directed her to follow Elias to the table. When she reached it, he pulled out her chair. Ricky handed her a bottle of water as Elias sat beside her.

“So where are you from?”

She cleared her throat. “Kentucky.”

“No kidding?” Elias smiled broadly. “Are you a farm girl or something?”

She laughed. “No. I grew up in a small town.”

“I’d love to hear about small-town life, if you’d like to have dinner.... Maybe tonight?”

She stared at him. He was serious? Asking her out in front of her boss? But, worse, he was a stranger. And he was asking her out—

She hadn’t been out with anyone since Cord.

Heat filled her. She wasn’t freakishly afraid of men or dating. After the attack, she’d simply focused on getting her degree. She’d also become selective—too selective to go out with a guy she didn’t know.

She drew in a slow breath. “I’m sorry but I don’t date people I don’t know.”

Ricky laughed. “You could always run him through Jason Jones.”

She laughed, too, though Elias’s proximity suddenly shot shivers of fear through her. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, she chalked his enthusiasm up to excitement over the big, big deal represented by the agreement he was about to sign. But that didn’t make his nearness any less overwhelming.

She rose. “Could you direct me to the powder room?”

Elias popped off his chair. “Sure. It’s right back along this hall.”

Her nerves went on red alert as they walked down a long dark corridor. A memory flashed. Cord leading her down a dark hall. Her giggling. Him forcing her into a room. Her fighting to get away and eventually freeing herself. But she’d lost a shoe and her blouse was torn—

Oh, God. This was bad. She’d put all this behind her. Why was it coming back to her now?

In the half bath, she took a few slow breaths. In the quiet, she realized Elias reminded her of Cord. Not looks-wise, but personality-wise. A little too pushy. A little too sure of himself.