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One Night with the Boss
The baby had dark hair and eyes like her mother and grandmother. But Maureen’s short hair was shot with silver and done in a piecey style with the back flipped up in a saucy shape. She was taller than Olivia and looked trim and attractive in designer jeans, expensive brown leather boots and a trendy camel coat over her thick winter sweater.
“How are you, Maureen?”
“Could be better.”
When the toddler held out her arms, Olivia took her. “Are you okay, baby girl? Why is your nana making that frowny face? You tell her that causes wrinkles.”
“I have a very good reason to risk wrinkles with this face,” the older woman said grimly. “Do you remember Tiffani Guthrie?”
Olivia would never forget the witch who’d dumped Brady when he left college just before finals in his senior year. Instead of supporting him, whatever his reasons might be, Tiffani with an I took up with a guy on his way to the Texas oil fields by way of Vegas, where, rumor had it, they married at the drive-through Elvis chapel.
“Brady’s old girlfriend.”
“Miss Fake Boobs and Big Hair.” Maureen’s voice dripped with loathing. “I was at the Grizzly Bear Diner this morning and heard from Cissy Johnson who was talking to Betty Cordoba who’s a friend of Tiffani’s cousin George. Word is that she’s coming back to Blackwater Lake.”
“No.” Olivia couldn’t believe she’d have the nerve to show her face back here after treating Brady so badly. She hugged the baby close. “Why would she do that?”
“No one is exactly sure. And this is just a guess from piecing together snippets of information,” the other woman confided. “But we think she landed herself in a bad situation with that Texas wildcatter. We’re speculating that she’s coming here to look up her old boyfriend—her wealthy ex-boyfriend—who can get her out of the whole mess. Can you believe the nerve of that woman?”
“Yes.” Olivia had never liked her.
She’d watched Brady and Tiffani together, hating the fact that she’d been born too late for him to notice her. She’d never figured out what Brady saw in the woman. Well, maybe the well-endowed bosom. Pretty face. Gorgeous red hair. But it was her attitude that was so infuriating. She’d had a way of making a person feel small and insignificant. Once she’d told wide-eyed high schooler Olivia not to hold her breath that Brady would ever give her a tumble. It had never occurred to Olivia that the feelings she thought buried inside were actually there on her face for the world to see. After that she’d worked very hard at making her expression neutral.
When the baby grew restless in her arms, Olivia handed her over to her grandmother. “Maybe you’re wrong and she’s not coming here.”
“Maybe. But Brady needs to be prepared. And so does every other bachelor in Blackwater Lake. What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t warn him?”
“I see your point.”
Olivia had never known this woman to interfere in her children’s lives. She was always there with support, advice when asked, a shoulder to cry on when needed and babysitting when necessary. If she felt honor bound to share this rumor with her son, there was probably a very good reason.
“So, is Brady busy?” She settled Danielle on her hip.
“Always.” But she had no idea what her boss was doing. “I can buzz him for you.”
“In a minute.” Maureen set little Danielle on her feet and she immediately squealed in a decibel level that would shatter glass. She toddled around Olivia’s desk toward the closed door of her uncle’s office. Small hands slapped on the door and a few seconds later it opened.
“Well, look who’s here.” He picked up his niece and held her high over his head until she laughed delightedly. “Hi, sweetie pie. Nice to see you, too, Mom.”
“I hope you still feel that way when you hear what I came to say.”
“Oh?”
“It will keep for a minute. I was just about to ask Olivia what’s going on with her these days.”
He walked over to them, holding the baby and looking so comfortable with the child that it tugged at Olivia’s heart.
“I can’t believe she hasn’t told you the breaking news,” he said.
“What? You’re getting married?” Maureen’s eyes grew wide. “You’re pregnant.”
“Do you know something I don’t?” His gaze met Olivia’s as his niece’s chubby index finger toyed with the button at the collar of his white cotton shirt. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
“No!” It was pretty much impossible to get pregnant when you weren’t having sex. Not that she planned to share that personal information.
“What’s going on?” Maureen looked between the two of them, obviously sensing undercurrents.
“Olivia has a boyfriend and she’s given notice that she’s leaving O’Keefe Technology.”
His mother looked more shocked than if a pregnancy had been confirmed. “What?”
“Yes,” Brady continued. “She’s going to abandon me.”
“That’s a tad melodramatic, but essentially true,” Olivia defended. Also true was the need to shift attention from herself before she was forced to lie to his mother. “The problem is that Brady’s showing more than a little resistance to hiring my replacement.”
“I don’t believe it.” There was a puzzled expression on his mother’s face.
“It’s true,” Olivia and Brady said together.
“That you’re being difficult? It’s a given.” Maureen waved her hand dismissively. “I’m surprised your mother didn’t say anything. We had breakfast together this morning and she never mentioned anything about you quitting. Or leaving town. Or even having a boyfriend.”
There were questions in Brady’s eyes when he said, “Olivia is very secretive about Leonard.”
“That’s your boyfriend’s name?”
So much for not having to speak of Leonard ever again. And if Maureen reacted like her son and daughter, there would be a fair amount of teasing about the name. She braced herself and said, “Yes.”
When the little girl squirmed in his arms, Brady set her on the rug and she toddled over to the wastebasket to explore.
“What kind of work does Leonard do?”
“Oh, this and that.” For the first time in her life Olivia wished she’d practiced the art of deceit, because then she’d be better at it.
“This and that in what field?” Maureen persisted.
“Tech.” That was sort of true. She worked in the industry and Leonard was a figment of her imagination, therefore a part of her. It was a stretch, but a case could be made.
“Way to go, Mom. That’s more information than I’ve been able to get out of her.”
“Not for lack of snooping,” Olivia said pointedly. “The thing is, Maureen, this sort of information has a way of spreading around town and I just wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.”
“I’ve known your mother since you were a baby and she’s never been able to keep a secret. The fact that she did now means you’re holding something over her head. It must be big.”
“Kind of.” The other woman was assuming her mother knew all about this news, and it was less complicated not to correct the impression. Meaning she’d stooped to lying by omission. If she’d been Pinocchio, by now her nose would have grown long enough to put someone’s eye out. Mental note: call Mom ASAP.
Maureen looked skeptical. “Are you sure about all this, sweetheart?”
“I’ve given it a lot of thought and this will be good for me.” Finally, a question she could answer truthfully.
“Then I certainly wish you the best of luck and every happiness.”
“What about the part where she’s leaving me in the lurch?” Brady complained.
“You’ll survive.” She glanced at the baby, who had tipped over the wastebasket, and hurried to grab her up. “No, Danielle.”
“I’m not so sure I will survive, Mom.”
“Man up, sweetheart.” She headed for his office. “Hiring someone to replace Olivia will seem like a walk in the park compared to the news I have for you.”
He shot Olivia a questioning look and held out his hands in a what’s-up gesture before following his mother into the office and closing the door.
Olivia blew out a long breath and sat in the chair behind her desk. “Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.”
She glanced over her shoulder and realized this might be her only chance to call her mother before Maureen O’Keefe did. Good news and bad traveled fast in Blackwater Lake, the blessing and curse of a small town.
She picked up the phone and punched in her mother’s number because this news—like the fact that she was moving away—should come from her.
* * *
Maureen’s news about his old girlfriend was a piece of cake for Brady, compared to the interviews Olivia had arranged for the afternoon. He stared at the young man sitting across the desk from him, the one who wanted Olivia’s job. He glanced at the name on the résumé again. Christopher Conway. Along with Olivia, he’d been chatting with the guy for about fifteen or twenty minutes. He was good-looking, articulate and had a sense of humor.
“So, Chris, you graduated from the University of Montana last year. Since then you’ve worked for a large retail chain. Doing what?”
“Workman’s comp.” The blond, blue-eyed applicant looked about twelve.
“Okay.”
He looked at Olivia, who was sitting in the club chair beside the impossibly young kid and thought she looked maybe fifteen. Suddenly he felt old and tired and a little desperate. She’d tried to quit twice before but both times he’d been able to talk her into staying. They’d never gotten to the point of interviews for her job, let alone a second round of them.
On paper this kid looked good, if he checked out. He was moldable. Graduated top of his class with a double major in computer science and business. His current job wasn’t in his chosen field, but he’d probably taken it out of necessity in bad economic times while scoping out something better.
It was actually pretty shrewd of Olivia to recruit a man for the position, and Brady was tempted to make Chris an offer. But his current assistant was still his first choice.
“I know what you’re thinking, Mr. O’Keefe.”
Brady sincerely doubted that. “What is it you think is on my mind?”
“That I’m too young and I don’t have the experience. But I’m smart and a hard worker. If you give me a chance, I promise you won’t be sorry.”
Brady believed him. This kid reminded him of Henry. He still missed his best friend. The two of them had dreamed of starting this company together, but fate had other plans.
“Brady?” Olivia’s voice grounded him in the present.
Of all the interviews he’d done, this guy was at the top of the list, but he hadn’t quite thrown in the towel on letting his assistant get away. He was also a pretty good judge of character and talent and wouldn’t let a smart up-and-comer get away either.
“Okay, Chris. I’ll be in touch.” He stood and held out his hand.
“Thanks for seeing me, Mr. O’Keefe.”
“The pleasure is mine. I’m sure you’ve got a bright future ahead of you.”
That must have been the right thing to say, because Olivia smiled at him as if he’d hung the moon. Her approval always made him feel like a better man than he was.
“I’ll show you out, Chris.”
For just a moment there was the slightest lisp in her voice and that made him smile as he watched the two leave the room. But he couldn’t indulge himself for long, because when she came back the game would be on.
A few moments later, she walked back into the room and sat in the chair where she’d observed the interview. “So what do you think?”
Here goes round two, he thought.
He moved to the club chair side of his desk and rested a hip on the corner. Her knees were inches from his leg and she angled them away.
“Who are we talking about?” he asked.
“Who do you want to start with?”
Could be his imagination, but along with the lisp there was a breathless quality to her words. “You pick.”
“How about candidate number one? Heather Fontaine.” She glanced at her notes. “Good computer skills. Experience. Qualified. A good fit.”
“Those were your impressions?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t jot down anything about her attitude?”
“No.” Her eyes narrowed and gone was any trace of her approving smile. “I didn’t notice anything about an attitude.”
“Hmm.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. There was just...” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Something. Instinct, maybe. A sense that she could be difficult.”
“Meaning she would stand up to you and not get steamrollered?” One eyebrow lifted, a dare to challenge her assessment.
“In a job interview, I have a finite amount of time to form an impression about someone I’ll be working with.” He shrugged. “In that time with Heather, my impression became aware of attitude.”
“Did it occur to you that she was trying to project confidence?”
“No.” When there was no response, he figured she was waiting for more. “When I interviewed you, you had an air of confidence and competence without even a hint of attitude.”
“I see. So, even though time is getting short, your attitude hasn’t changed.” Her full mouth pulled tight. “Okay. Number two. Annabel Brown.”
“She seems like a perfectly nice young woman. The right skill set. Good résumé.” Brady put a hint of doubt into his tone.
“Attitude?” Olivia called his doubt and raised him a whole lot of sarcasm.
“Not from her, but you’re walking a little close to that line.”
“So fire me,” she challenged.
“I think I can handle it a little longer.” Brady couldn’t imagine not handling it. Liv was dipped in determination, but wielded it wisely and with a sense of humor. For whatever argument she chose to pull out her attitude, it always passed the level-of-importance test.
“So Annabel has everything you’re looking for. I’ll contact human resources and get them going to fast-track a job offer...”
“Hold on.”
She looked up. “What?”
Was that impatience he heard? “I didn’t say I wanted to hire her.”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“There’s something missing. A focus. Fire in the belly. It’s hard to put into words.”
“Ellie Hart recommended her. She works for one of Ellie’s brothers at Hart Incorporated. That’s the big time and they don’t tolerate fools. Annabel knows what she’s doing but wants to do it here in Blackwater Lake. What are you trying to say, Brady?”
“She seemed a little less than motivated. On the lazy side.” He was making that part up.
“She’s from Texas.” Olivia stood and shoved her hands on her hips. If it was possible to breathe fire, she would have. “People from the South have a drawl. That doesn’t mean they can’t be forceful when necessary.”
He loved it when she got riled up, and it made her crazy when he suddenly switched gears. As he was about to do. “You’re right. I’m no doubt misjudging her, so we’ll just chalk it up to lack of chemistry.”
“Okay. So it’s a no on Annabel.” She blew out a breath. “What about Chris? So far he’s the first one you promised to contact.”
“I like him.”
“There’s a but.”
“How do you know?”
“Chalk it up to a lot of years working for you.” She met his gaze. “Plus you had a funny expression on your face during the interview. What was that about?”
A feeling had come over him that he hadn’t experienced for a long time. Survivor’s guilt. Henry was dead and Brady was alive. In college they had been excited about a future in business together, then suddenly Henry had died and all those dreams disappeared with him. Brady had to carry on alone. It was a stark reminder that anyone he cared about could be gone in an instant.
Brady looked at Olivia’s face, so familiar, so alive, and realized he didn’t know what he’d do without her. At work, of course. And she was waiting for an answer to her question.
“Chris reminds me of someone I used to know in college.”
“Henry Milton,” she said. “I noticed the resemblance, too.”
He nodded. The two of them had been inseparable all through school, always at each other’s houses. “Chris is bright, enthusiastic and would be an asset to this company.”
“I thought so, too. So I’ll offer him my job.”
“No.” He straightened away from the desk and looked down at her. “He’s too young and inexperienced and smart enough to realize it.”
“He can learn. I did.”
“The thing is that you and I learned together. He’d be stepping into a high-power situation.” He shook his head. “No, I think his talents would be better utilized in research and development. Contact human resources and tell them to find something for him.”
“Okay. He’ll be an asset to this company. But that means we’re back to square one.”
“It would appear so.”
“You’re too damn cheerful, Brady.” Her eyes flashed with frustration. “You do realize that in another week I’m leaving. Whether or not you’ve hired anyone to replace me. This isn’t a joke and I wish you would stop treating it that way.”
She was being incredibly stubborn about this, and he blamed Leonard. “Why do you have to go?”
“You know why.”
“Don’t you think it’s incredibly selfish of Leonard to insist that you move away?”
“He’s not insisting.” She met his gaze as if she expected a challenge.
“Okay, then. Why doesn’t he relocate from...” He waited for her to fill in the blank with a city or state and when she didn’t, he was peeved. “He should be the one to move, find a job in Blackwater Lake.”
She blinked up at him for several seconds. “It’s a small town and there’s nothing here that would utilize his particular skills,” she said after some thought.
Brady recognized the expression on her face. It was the one she wore when she had to think fast, to come up with an explanation or particular spin. The truth shouldn’t take that much effort.
“What particular skills does he have?”
Her chin lifted in that stubborn, familiar way, just before she got defiant. “Well, for one thing, he’s a good kisser.”
“Is that right?”
That might get him a volunteer job at the charity fund-raiser kissing booth, but gainful employment was questionable. He was aware of the edge in his voice and the tight knot in his gut. It was the first time he’d thought about her actually kissing Leonard. Or in Leonard’s bed. A man touching her, any man. He didn’t like any of the above, not even a little bit.
This sensation had all the characteristics of jealousy but he couldn’t believe that’s what it was and didn’t care right this minute. He still had questions. Like...
Were there other men? Wouldn’t he know if there were? Who were they and why hadn’t he met them?
He hadn’t known about Leonard and suddenly, with an intensity that surprised him, he wanted to know everything.
“How many men have you kissed, Liv?”
“That’s none of your business.” Annoyance and indignation looked really good on her.
“I’m making it my business. You’ve worked for me a long time and I don’t know who you hang out with. You say Leonard is a good kisser. How many men have you kissed to compare him with?”
“Enough. Ask anyone.” The pulse in her throat fluttered frantically. “Unlike you, I don’t have a reputation for not being much in the kissing department.”
That was a semidesperate attempt to create a diversion but Brady was intrigued, in the mood to push the advantage. And he couldn’t stop looking at her mouth.
“I’ve never had any complaints about my technique. You shouldn’t believe rumors.”
“That’s hard to do without any contradicting data...” She shrugged, but it was uneasy, not the nonchalant gesture she was going for.
“Well, then, with my reputation on the line, I feel obligated to provide you with the necessary information.”
Her mouth dropped open and Brady forgot about his reputation and everything else except the need to taste her lips. He closed the distance between them in one step, then threaded his fingers into her silky hair with one hand and pulled her close with the other.
“Here goes.”
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