Who's the Boss? & Her Perfect Stranger: Who's The Boss? / Her Perfect Stranger

“You were friends with him,” she said. “You were friends, but we aren’t.”

She was fishing. She needed, yearned…and he ached for her, but he’d never told a lie in his life, not even to save someone’s feelings, and he wouldn’t start now. “I’m sorry.”

She looked at him, accepting his silent admission that no, they were not friends. “I want us to get along.”

How to tell her that he didn’t? That he “got along” with very few people, and he liked it that way. That the only reason he ever “got along” with a beautiful woman was to “get it on.”

“I don’t want to be someone you have to babysit.”

“That’s good. Because I don’t babysit,” he said.

“You were dragging me off to feed me,” she pointed out, ignoring a nasty remark from a harassed-looking woman who had to walk around them on the sidewalk. “I work for you from eight to five, but what I do before or after shouldn’t be your concern.”

“Then eat, dammit!”

“Yeah, that sort of…um…reminds me…” She bit her lip. “How often do we get paid?”

All his annoyance fled as he stared at her. His stomach suddenly hurt. “Are you that out of money?”

She paused. Shrugged. “Sort of, yeah.”

Damn. “Today. You’ll get paid today.”

“I don’t want your pity. I just want to know when we get paid around here. Weekly, biweekly, what?”

“Don’t,” he said harshly, and when she flinched he lightened his tone with effort. “I know what it’s like to be hungry, to not eat because there’s no food.” He rubbed his belly, almost feeling that bone-gnawing hunger from his youth all over again. God, he hated this. A little panicked now, because she made him feel things he didn’t want to, he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out whatever bills he had in there, slapping them into her palm. “Take this. It’s an advance.”

Horrified, she glanced downward, then pushed the money back at him. “No. I’m not the local charity case.”

“Take it.” He shoved the money into her jacket pocket. A mistake. Through the material, he could feel her warm flesh.

“I told you yesterday that I can do this,” she said a little shakily as she backed away from him. “I can handle being on my own just fine. I don’t think you believe that, but it’s true, and I’m going to prove it to you.” As she took another step back, she enunciated each word. “I can take care of myself.”

“Wait,” he called out when she turned and took off down the street.

Of course she didn’t wait. She never did as he asked.

He could have caught her easily. In those ridiculously high heels, she was hardly moving faster than a quick stroll, but he knew she needed to be alone. She’d resent him intruding now. It would hurt her pride. And he knew all about pride.

Still… He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, but he just kept doing it. He hated how that made him feel.

Why, Edmund? he wondered for the umpteenth time. Why have you done this to me?

Vince came up beside him, watching Caitlin disappear into the crowd. “You have such a touch with women, Joe,” he said dryly.

“Hey, most of them like me.”

“None of them ‘like’ you. They want you. Some for money, some for that reputed charm of yours, but none of them because they like you.”

Someone else might have taken offense to Vince’s honesty, but Joe always appreciated it. “Look who’s talking,” he countered. “I don’t see you married or anything.”

“But you will.” Vince stared into the crowd where Caitlin had disappeared. “You will.” A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Tell me you didn’t fire her.”

“We’ve done fine without a secretary before.”

Joe and Vince went way back, but Joe had, in all that time, never seen Vince’s temper. He saw it now. The redhead flushed from roots to neck, and his eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe you did it,” he said furiously. “Fired another one! And she was the nicest, sweetest one we ever had.”

“Sweet?” Joe laughed. “Nothing that looks that good is sweet, believe me.”

Vince was disgusted. “If I didn’t know better, Joe, I’d say she scares you.”

“She terrifies me. She’s going to destroy our office.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I didn’t fire her, Vince,” he said wearily.

Vince relaxed marginally. “But you wanted to.”

“Look, I’m stuck with her because of a stupid promise. Yeah, I wanted to.”

“No, that’s not it—it’s not the promise,” Vince said as he studied his longtime friend. “I know you better than that. You’re running scared.” He shook his head in amazement. “And I thought you were fearless.”

“I’m not afraid of her.”

“Uh-huh. Well, whatever you do, don’t hurt her. I like her.”

Vince’s voice gave away nothing, but the way his eyes were trained on Caitlin’s disappearing figure in the crowd did. Not that Joe cared, but Vince clearly did like Caitlin. A lot.

He’d probably even ask her out eventually, Joe thought, his gut tightening yet again.

Caitlin would probably say yes.

Dammit. He really hated working with women.

6

FOR ONE ENTIRE AFTERNOON, Caitlin didn’t see Joe. He was at meetings with the bank, with customers, with who knew whom else.

She was thankful for the respite, which gave her the peace and quiet and nerve to do as she’d threatened. She’d reorganized all the files and now everything was clean, tidy and in its place.

By chance, she’d intercepted the bank statement for the business checking account when it had arrived in the mail. Because numbers had always mysteriously called her, she went ahead and reconciled his statement on her break. She would have and could have easily closed out the month, but picturing Joseph’s face, she didn’t quite dare.

Vince, Tim and Andy were thrilled with the way the office looked, and how smoothly everything was running. It was amazing how big the place seemed once the floors were clear and it wasn’t like walking through a maze just to cross the rooms. Caitlin had no idea how Joe would feel about it, but she could bet he wouldn’t offer the joy and easy acceptance she’d gotten from the techs.

However he reacted, he couldn’t avoid her forever, or discount that strange, unaccountable attraction between them that flared up at the most annoying of times.

Every time they looked at each other, there were sparks.

It went deeper than the physical, far deeper, for there existed between them a bond she couldn’t deny, and it made her as wary of him as he was of her.

Caitlin was studiously avoiding any serious relationships out of self-preservation. She knew from experience with her father and her fair-weather friends that close relationships brought only pain. Disappointment. Loneliness.

Being on her own was better. Easier.

Either Joe had learned that lesson, too, or he simply didn’t like her.

That day he’d given her an advance from his own pocket, she’d come back from her lunch break to find a paycheck on her desk, handwritten by him. The gesture hadn’t surprised her. Beneath his rough and tough exterior, she had a feeling he was a big softie.

She laughed at herself. A softie. Right.

Well, now she had one paycheck and her pride. It was the latter that allowed her to keep a stiff upper lip in those dark moments when despair threatened, when she cried herself to sleep thinking about her father and the way he’d abandoned her.

She knew all her father’s assets were gone, divided among his friends and associates, but she didn’t know why. For the first time, she decided she deserved answers. She called his attorney, but because he was out of town for the next week, she had to leave a message.

Feeling marginally better, Caitlin sat on her bed and reviewed her mail. It was a particularly bad mail day, each envelope hiding a big, ugly, nasty bill, all of which were at least second notices.

But the last one really caught her eye—a notice to vacate her condo.

The bank was finally going to sell.

She’d known this moment would come sooner or later, but she’d been hoping for later, much later.

Why, she wondered for the thousandth time, hadn’t her father paid off her car or her condo? And unfortunately, at the time of his death, he hadn’t taken care of any of her credit cards, either, which left her in a position where she couldn’t even charge her way out of the mess.

One thing was for certain—she couldn’t continue to live as she had. She plopped back on her bed and contemplated her ceiling and came to the only conclusion she could—it was time to sell off everything she had of value, before the bank came and claimed it.

Then she could create a whole new life for herself. A lot less luxurious life, but she could handle that. Already, she’d discovered some of the joy of taking care of herself. For one thing, her new friends—Vince, Andy, Tim, even Amy—they were all real friends. They wouldn’t desert her because she wasn’t heir to a fortune. They couldn’t care less, they just liked her.

Her.

That was a new and welcome surprise.

They liked her for being Caitlin, not for where Caitlin could take them.

It was possible that way down deep, she’d been waiting for this, wishing for the chance to prove to herself she could make it on her own, without any help.

Seemed she was about to get her wish.

* * *

DARN IT, BUT she was late again.

“You had to stop to talk to that lost homeless lady,” Caitlin berated herself as she raced down the street, her purse flapping behind her. “Had to worry about her instead of yourself and your job and your undoubtedly furious boss.”

Huffing and puffing, she dashed into the office building that housed CompuSoft. Because her lungs were threatening to explode right out of her chest, she sagged against the wall in the downstairs reception area, trying to catch her breath.

“Close to the quarter-century mark,” she muttered out loud, “and already in pathetic shape.”

“Caitlin? You okay?”

Holding a hand to her chest, she turned to face a startled Vince, who had one of Amy’s scrumptious doughnuts in his hand.

Her mouth started to water. She’d missed breakfast again.

Amy looked concerned, too, and without a word she poured Caitlin some water, which Caitlin gratefully took. “I…will be fine…in just a…sec.”

Vince grinned and gave her a slow once-over. “If you’re trying to get in shape, you’re too late. You already are.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” she gasped. “But I’m not…doing this to myself on purpose, believe me. I hate exercise.” Wryly, she glanced down at her running shoes, then kicked them off. Reaching into her shoulder bag, she pulled out her high-heeled sandals. She’d been doing this every morning, changing downstairs while visiting with Amy, before going to the second floor and facing Joe.

“Why were you running?” Vince held out his arm so that she could use it to keep her balance while she fastened her sandals.

She grabbed on to him, feeling the bulge of muscle, the fine silk of his shirt beneath her fingers. Vince, unlike Tim, Andy and even Joe, never wore jeans to work. He was always dressed impeccably, and today was no different. The deep blue of his shirt and trousers matched his dark sapphire eyes perfectly and toned down the brilliance of his hair.

He waited, his eyes laughing down into hers. “Was that a tough question?”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, flushing when she realized he thought she’d been staring at him in frank appreciation. She did appreciate him, just not in the way he thought.

She appreciated his friendship, because at this point in her life friendship was a new and exciting gift. Somehow, though, she knew Vince wouldn’t take it in the flattering light she meant it. “I was running because I’m late. As usual. The bus—”

“Where’s your car?”

“It’s gone,” she said as cheerfully as she could with a lump the size of a regulation football stuck in her throat.

She missed her Beemer!

“You take the bus in from the beach every day?” he asked incredulously. “That’s an awful commute, Caitlin.”

“It’s not so bad.” What was awful was the kind and sincere horror in his voice at what she had to go through to get to work. “But the bus never seems to come on time. They say seven-fifteen, but they don’t really mean it. Now I finally get the meaning—” she huffed as she worked her second sandal on “—when they say Californian time.”

Vince laughed as he gently supported her. “Don’t worry—I’ll tell Joe it was my fault.”

“Your fault,” she repeated. “How on earth could my tardiness be your fault—” She broke off as she realized exactly what Joe would think when Vince told him that.

Vince laughed again when she flushed and said, “Oh.”

“Come on,” he said, tugging her to the elevator. “It’ll be fun. He’s so entertaining when he’s furious.”

While Caitlin knew darn well Joe didn’t want her for himself, she instinctively knew how he would react if one of his techs wanted her. “Just yesterday, when Tim was going to program the clock to swear out loud on the hour, you reminded him how much pressure Joe was under right now.”

“So?”

“So why tease him now? He’s still under pressure. He might explode.”

Vince pushed the button for their floor and grinned down at her. “Yeah. Think how much fun this is going to be.”

“Vince—”

He pulled her into the elevator, but just as the door started to close, an elegant, leather-clad foot stopped it.

“Wait!” a female voice cried, and Vince pressed the open-door button.

Caitlin watched as the tall, willowy, incredibly beautiful woman stepped gracefully into the elevator and smiled familiarly at Vince. “Thanks, hon.” Her long limbs moved fluidly as she settled herself. Her ankle-length white sheath was striking against her dark skin.

Now, that’s a body, Caitlin thought enviously. All lean and toned—no extra curves there! She was just thinking how lovely the waist-length, heavy sable hair was when the woman turned to her…and frowned.

Caitlin recognized that frown, and its disapproval.

Joe gave it to her all the time. She stiffened in automatic response.

“This is Darla,” Vince told her. “She’s the accountant in the building. And Darla, this is Caitlin. Our secretary.”

Caitlin smiled, but it wasn’t her usual genuine, shining one because she felt suddenly drained.

“Are you enjoying the work?” Darla asked coolly.

“It’s interesting.”

Darla’s expression opened up a bit, surprised. “You mean, he’s letting you do something other than answer phones?”

Not that he knows, Caitlin thought. “Well…let’s just say we’re working on it.”

“Ah.” Darla’s mouth curved. “Well, at least you made it past the two-day mark. No one else has.”

“What a surprise that is.”

Darla did smile then, a genuine one. “I see you’re not enamored. That’s good. Maybe you have a shot at making it in that office before he eats you alive.”

“Enamored?” Because the thought was so ridiculous, Caitlin laughed.

“He’s not an easy man,” Darla agreed. “As you’ve obviously noticed.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“But he’s a good one.”

Yes. And also hard, tough, unforgiving and sexy as hell. “He’s a good man,” she agreed quietly, because it was the truth.

“You know…” Darla tipped her head to study Caitlin carefully. “You’re much more than Barbie meets Baywatch. I’ll have to tell Joe I was wrong about you.”

“Barbie meets—” Caitlin sputtered, whipped her head to glare at Vince when he burst out laughing at her expression.

The elevator stopped. Darla smiled, and this time it was warm and genuine. “Bye, Caitlin. Good luck today. Or maybe I should wish Joe good luck. I have a feeling he’s going to need it.”

Caitlin wished she’d left her tennis shoes on, because for the first time in her life she felt like running. She wanted to race directly to Joe and tell him what she thought of him and his accountant.

“Caitlin, wait,” Vince called out, trying to keep up with her as she made her way down the hallway.

“I don’t think so.” She kept going, driven by a need to give Joseph Brownley a piece of her mind. A big piece. A great big huge piece that would knock him flat on his far too gorgeous butt.

Unfortunately for Tim and Andy, they happened to be lurking around her desk when Caitlin stormed in. Twin smiles greeted her, only to die at the murderous expression on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Andy asked quickly.

Vince grimaced. “She just met Darla….”

“Tell me,” she said evenly, tossing her purse to the floor by her desk and placing her hands on her hips. She blew a strand of hair away from her face. “What did the other secretaries look like?”

In unison, the twins turned to Vince, confused. Vince sighed and shook his head.

“Oh, come on, guys,” she encouraged. “Think. You remember, the ones who quit?” Her voice held a poisonous mixture of sweet smile and deadly tone. “Were they…pretty?”

“Not like you,” Andy said loyally, and Tim shook his head vigorously.

“Darla didn’t mean it,” Vince said quietly to her, touching her arm, his eyes deep with concern and regret.

“No? But I’ll bet Joe did.” She dragged in a deep breath, stunned to find herself so upset.

“Caitlin, what’s the matter?” Andy asked. “What didn’t Darla mean?”

All three of them were looking at her in concern. Not one of them was on the verge of laughter. They really cared, Caitlin realized with a burst of surprise and warmth. They cared that she was upset, and they didn’t find it funny. It went a long way toward soothing her. “Nothing,” she said, forcing a smile. “It wasn’t important.”

“It was if it hurt you.” Tim came closer, peering into her face. “Darla’s really pretty great, but she does like a good joke. What did she say?”

Caitlin dropped her gaze from his, feeling a little silly. “Something about Barbie meets Baywatch,” she muttered.

His eyes widened. He bit his lip, which Caitlin would have sworn was so he couldn’t laugh. Next to her, Andy made a suspicious noise, something like a strangled hyena. In a Joe-like move, Vince closed his eyes.

“Oh, stop it,” she said, biting back her own smile. “It really wasn’t so funny a minute ago.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.