Flirting With the Boss

“How much do you know about me?” he asked, tamping down his anger. He didn’t remember whether or not they’d talked about his background ten years ago.

“I know your parents were killed in an automobile accident and your grandfather took you in when you were fifteen. You were angry and rebellious and got into trouble with the sheriff a couple times during high school. Big trouble that made the newspapers. Very public stuff—”

“I’m sorry I asked.” He turned left into the Dairy Queen driveway. There were only a couple of cars in the lot. “Anything?”

“I don’t see his car. I’ll run inside and ask if anyone has seen him.”

Max watched her walk up to the door, then disappear inside. He didn’t remember her being so skeptical, cynical and suspicious. She also hadn’t been so sassy, scrappy and sexy. But that was beside the point. Where did she get off judging him? Whatever happened to walking a mile in a man’s wingtips before forming an opinion? Living with Bentley Caine hadn’t been a bed of roses. Did she know what the old man had done to him? What had convinced Max he’d be better off anywhere but Sweet Spring?

Ashley was back moments later. After sliding into the car she said, “He hasn’t been here, but they’ll let me know if he comes in.”

He waited for her to buckle up. After looking both ways, he eased out into noticeably heavier traffic. Quitting time in town. If he was smart, he would quit too. But this wasn’t the first time he hadn’t been smart enough to live up to his potential.

“Did you ever ask my grandfather why I left?”

“I didn’t know him then. By the time I did, it wasn’t important anymore.”

That’s not what her tone said. She was taking something very personally. Two could play that game. “For the record, I didn’t desert anyone.”

“No?”

“No.”

“But you did leave town?”

“Of course I did,” he snapped. “And I had good reason.”

“But Sweet Spring was your home—”

“It’s his home, not mine. In spite of everything he did, I got an education, including a master’s degree. I found out I was good at saving failing corporations from the brink of disaster and started my own free-lance consulting business. I do what’s necessary—reduce staff, consolidate, or sell off unprofitable businesses.”

“A heart of gold,” she murmured.

“My reputation as a business fixer is well known,” he shot back. “I’m justifiably proud of my level of success, and I did it without his help.”

“Obviously he did something for you. You said you owed him enough to see him.”

“Yeah.”

The vibes he was getting from her said she was dug in on the old man’s side. So what did he care? He was no longer a kid who didn’t know where he belonged. But it did stick in his craw that she was loyal to the man who hadn’t been loyal to his own flesh and blood. Apparently she saw a side to his grandfather that Max had never glimpsed.

“Tiny’s BBQ is up ahead,” she said, pointing toward a sign sporting a pig and a cow, nose to nose.

Max steered the car into the lot and waited while Ashley went inside. She wasn’t gone long.

“Nothing,” she said, after sliding back into her seat.

“I’ll call the house. Maybe there’s news.”

Max pulled his cell phone out and hit the programmed number. The housekeeper answered and said she hadn’t seen Mr. Caine but would let Max know if his grandfather came home.

He slid the phone into his pocket. “It’s time to bring in the big guns.”

“The sheriff’s office is just down the street,” she said, reading his mind.

“So do you believe no news is good news like the sheriff said?” Ashley asked Max. “That Mr. Caine will probably turn up tomorrow?”

“Yeah. For now, leaving the looking to the professionals seems like the best thing to do.” His mouth thinned to a straight line. “Although it’s frustrating. By this time I figured I would be on a plane back to California.”

Had it really been a decade since she’d stared wide-eyed at bad boy Max Caine in the company cafeteria? Sitting across from him again, Ashley felt an odd sense of déjà vu. Then, she’d been flattered by attention from charismatic Max Caine. But now that she knew his true colors, she wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to his dinner invitation.

The waiter left their check and Max took it. She got the feeling the gesture was automatic. Dinner out with a woman was probably par for his course, but hers had been seriously lacking in men. She didn’t think Max was her type, which was a relief. Although she wasn’t sure she had a type.

She’d been too busy working her way through college to pay much attention to the male of the species. And given the disastrous romantic track record of the Gallagher women, which included her mother, her sister and herself, she’d been grateful for the too-busy schedule that had kept her from dating.

In the cloud that was her struggle for a business degree, not dating had been the only silver lining. All of her relationship experiences had been disastrous. For her, dinner out with a man was a prequel to perdition. This wasn’t a date. There was no reason to hang around and make small talk. The check had arrived. She was ready to leave now.

But Max took a sip of his half-finished beer, then set the longneck on the table showing he was in no hurry to go.

“Why are you so loyal to my grandfather?” he asked.

“He’s always been there for me.”

“When no one else was?” His gaze never left hers.

“Why would you go there?” she asked, defensive because his remark had hit way too close to the mark.

He raised one broad shoulder in a casual shrug. “I don’t know. Nine times out of ten someone will say ‘he was there for me when no one else was.’ I filled in the blank.”

“I don’t need you to fill in my blanks. In my experience, your grandfather is fair and caring.” When he opened his mouth to say something she held up a finger to silence him. “And before you ask, I’ve got plenty of support—family support.”

But this guy didn’t know the first thing about what she shared with her mother and sister. There was no point in discussing the fact that her father was a leaver, just like Max.

She dragged a finger through the condensation on her water glass, then met his gaze. “And I’m concerned about my family.”

“What about them?”

“My mother and sister work at Caine Chocolate.”

“Are they in management, too?”

She shook her head. “A college degree is a requirement, and I’m the first in the family to get one. Your grandfather created the position of manager of specialty and seasonal items just for me. He told me the idea came to him out of the blue on my birthday—” She stopped because she was blathering like an idiot.

“When?” Max asked.

“On my birthday. It’s February twenty-ninth.”

“Leap year?”

She nodded. “Jordan and Rachel, my two best friends, were born the same day. Because of the unusual date, our families kept in touch. Since we only have a birthday once every four years, we celebrate together. This year it was in New Orleans.”

“And that’s when my grandfather came up with the idea?”

“Yes,” she said, an odd feeling raising goose bumps on her arms. That was the night they’d recovered the tacky brass lamp, à la Aladdin. The grateful shop owner dressed like a gypsy, had insisted they each rub the lamp and make a wish. Hers had been money and power—not that she was going to share that with Max. He’d think she was crazy.

“Mr. Caine waited to announce my promotion until I had my degree in my hot little hand.” Had her wish been granted with the promotion? No, that was too weird.

Max looked at her. “After doing the math, it occurs to me that it took you a while to get that important piece of paper. I know you’re brighter than the average bear. I have to ask—what took you so long?”

“I had to work full time to pay for college and help out at home. That tends to slow down the process. But I’m determined to make up for lost time.”

“Well your promotion is a good start.” He took a sip of beer. “But I always suspected you were determined enough to take over the world.”

There would never be a better time to ask. “Are you back to take over the company for your grandfather?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Obviously he isn’t getting any younger. His health is fragile. You haven’t been back until now. I just wondered if—”

“The buzzards were circling?” he interrupted, a muscle contracting in his cheek.

“Actually—yes.”

“No.” He met her gaze. “I don’t want or need Caine Chocolate. You have more ties to the company than me. In fact, I could ask you the same thing. Do you have your eye on taking it over?”

“There are a lot of people more qualified than me.”

“But you’re the one who’s making up for lost time.” His eyes narrowed.

“If the opportunity presented itself, I wouldn’t turn it down. But I respect the fact that it’s a family-owned company. If you want to fill in some blanks, there’s one.”

“Okay. But I don’t understand why you’re so hostile.”

It was too much to hope he hadn’t noticed. Normally, she was able to hide her feelings. In fact, she was feeling bad about all the one-liners she’d lobbed his way. And why had she done it? A lot of years had passed since they’d talked and she’d developed a crush on him. Was that enough reason for her grudge? Was she that weird?

Or was it because he’d been her first crush? As hard as she’d tried, she hadn’t been able to forget him, probably because he had been her first. So to speak. The second time she’d let herself care about a man, her bad choice had made her life more difficult than it had to be. But Max had been her first personal experience in the curse of the Gallagher women. He was the first to show her men leave.

And it didn’t bother her anymore that he’d left her. It was the cavalier way he’d completely turned his back on his grandfather that fried her grits. “You think I’m hostile?”

“Come on, Ash. I’m a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.”

“Okay. You want to know why? I’ll tell you. It’s your behavior.”

“Excuse me, but I haven’t seen you for ten years. What do you know about my behavior?”

“I know you walked away without looking back.”

“Has anyone ever told you there are two sides to every story?”

“I’m aware of that. Let me point out that adversity doesn’t build character, it reveals it. Your behavior revealed that when there’s a bump in the road, you’re the kind of person who walks away and never comes back. Instead of trying to work things out.”

“There was nothing to work out.”

Anger ballooned inside her. “If that’s true, why did he hire a detective to find you? Why did he follow your career and save every scrap of information he came across about you?”

“You’d have to ask him.”

“No, I don’t. Because actions speak louder than words,” she said. “The way he repeatedly contacted you about coming back. How profoundly hurt he was when you ignored his seventieth birthday party. He knew you received the invitation, by the way.”

“I was working.”

“That’s not good enough. And you didn’t bother to RSVP. You didn’t even contact him and lie about why you wouldn’t be there. You just ignored him.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “Did it ever occur to you it was kinder that way?”

“No,” she said, and her voice shook.

His gaze narrowed as he studied her. “Are we only talking about the fact that I haven’t been back to see my grandfather?”

“Not entirely.” Not if she was honest.

“Okay. Then you need to give me a little more information.”

“How about the fact that you stood me up?”

“What?” He frowned. “When?”

Oh, swell. He didn’t even remember. Could this get worse? “Never mind. It’s not important. Let’s drop it.”

“Let’s not. You’re ticked off about something. Put it all on the table so I can defend myself.”

She took a deep breath. “Before you left town, I was grounded for a month. The deal was I went from summer school to the chocolate factory so my mother could keep an eye on me while she was at work.”

“I remember.”

“You went out of your way to talk to me. Every day at lunch.” The anticipation of seeing him had been the main reason she’d gotten up every morning during that time. “You even promised me a post-punishment meal, somewhere other than the company cafeteria.”

“I did?”

“Yeah.” Why hadn’t she just agreed that her hostility was all about his grandfather? In this case, honesty was not the best policy. “We had a date…I mean we’d agreed on a place and time to meet. You didn’t show up. A couple days later it was all over town that you’d left.”

He leaned toward her and rested his forearms on the table. “It slipped my mind. I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” Sorry that the memory could still bother her even a little.

“Did it ever occur to you that I might have had a good reason for leaving?”

“No. I was fourteen.”

“And now you’re twenty-four. A grown-up. Isn’t it possible something came up that took precedence over the plans I made with you?”

She looked at him, remembering. She’d waited hours on her front porch for him to pick her up as promised. Every time the phone had rung, she’d raced inside to see if it was him. But it never was. What was so important that he couldn’t even call to let her know he wouldn’t be there? It took a long time for her to grow up enough to see that she’d been nothing but a sappy dreamer, and he’d duped the dope. And now it didn’t matter.

“Sure, it’s possible,” she said.

“Your sincerity is underwhelming.” A muscle contracted in his jaw. “So I have to conclude that either you blow things out of all reasonable proportion. Or—”

She knew she was going to regret asking. “Or what?”

“I’m paying for what another guy did to you. Just a shot in the dark,” he said shrugging.

And that was another shot too darn close to the mark, she thought. “You’re not paying for anything. Speaking of which,” she said, “what do I owe you for dinner?”

He put a credit card on the check and signaled the waiter. “Nothing. Better late than never. Consider it your post-punishment meal.”

“Thank you.” She stood up. “I have to go now.”

She walked through the restaurant not much caring whether or not he followed. It was irritating to realize he could be right. Her animosity just might be out of proportion to his crime. Her inner child could be throwing an unwarranted melodramatic tantrum. So the best solution was to give her inner child a timeout.

She drew in a deep cleansing breath when the evening air hit her. The sun had set and a breeze cooled her cheeks. Behind her she heard the door to the restaurant whisper open. The hair at her nape prickled, and she knew Max stood there.

He stopped beside her, holding his suit jacket by one finger after slinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll take you back to your car.”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

When she reached out to open the car door, his hand brushed hers as he grabbed the handle and let her inside. Why did he have to be a gentleman? Worse, why did she have to feel warmth and that tingle from his slight touch?

She wanted him to be bad to the bone. She needed him to have a sleazy rap sheet she could add to. So far, all she had on him was standing her up, leaving without saying goodbye and ignoring his grandfather. That was unforgivable. She couldn’t understand why he’d rebuffed the older man’s attempts to patch up their relationship. And seeing the soul-deep hurt on the face of the kindly man who’d been like a father to her made her angry.

They drove in silence to the company parking lot and Ashley directed him to her small compact in the far corner. He stopped the BMW beside it.

“Ashley?”

She opened the door. “What?”

“Are you going to look for him?”

She didn’t need to ask who he meant. “Do you think it’s necessary?”

“I think the sheriff is probably right that he’ll turn up when he’s ready.”

“But?” she asked, feeling he had more to say.

“I’m action-oriented. If there’s a problem, I fix it.”

“So what are you saying?”

He raked a hand through his hair. “I guess I’m saying that it’s getting late. The professionals need to do their thing. But if there’s no news by morning, I’m going to look again on my own.”

She turned her head and met his gaze in the harsh overhead light. She thought she saw a flicker of something in the depths of his blue eyes. “You’re concerned about him, aren’t you?”

“Of course not.”

“You’re trying to pretend you don’t care.”

“That takes too much energy,” he denied. “After I see him, I’m gone. The sooner he’s found, the better.”

“Okay.” She slid out of the car, then rested her hand on the door to slam it. Hesitating, she caught her top lip between her teeth.

“Tomorrow is Saturday,” he said, stating the obvious.

“Yes it is. Why?”

“If you’re not doing anything, would you help me look for him?”

“Why?” she asked again.

“Because you know him. And I have a feeling you’re going to do it anyway. We could pool our resources. Two heads are better than one.” He smiled suddenly, and she felt the power of it all the way to her toes. “I’m staying at the estate.”

“Thanks for the breaking news.”

“If I don’t call to let you know he’s turned up, meet me there.”

Against her better judgment she said, “Okay.”

Chapter Three

The next morning, Ashley parked her little car in front of the Caines’ impressive English Tudor-style house. Her heart pounded and she told herself it was all about her surroundings and not the prospect of seeing Max Caine’s smile. She hadn’t heard from him and that meant there’d been no word from the senior Mr. Caine. Concern trickled through her though she told herself there was no cause for it.

After sliding out of the car, she stared at the brick-lined steps leading to the double mahogany doors with beveled leaded glass ovals in the center of each.

“Motivation for higher education,” she mumbled.

Ten years ago she’d been grounded for nearly flunking her first year in high school. She’d taken summer classes to repeat algebra and history. Every day on the way into town, her mother had driven her past the Caine estate and told her she could have a house like this if she worked hard and went to college. The visual aid was seriously effective in convincing Ashley to put her nose to the educational grindstone.

If not for her unfortunate brain seizure in her senior year, aka falling in love, at this moment she’d be well on her way to achieving her goals. Romance had convinced her never to give up anything for a man.

She rang the doorbell and waited. Several moments later her ring was answered. Max stood there in worn jeans that fit his lean waist, hips and thighs like a second skin and a biceps-hugging black T-shirt that made him look every inch the rebel she remembered. His exploits were legendary. Especially the cherry bomb in the gym bathroom, climbing in Rita Mae Whitmire’s bedroom window while her father stood guard on the front porch, and letting the air out of Sheriff Kent’s tires.

She swallowed. “Good morning.”

“Hi. Come on in,” he said, opening the door wider for her to precede him into the house.

“Any news on Mr. Caine?”

He shut the door and met her gaze. “I just got off the phone with the sheriff and he had nothing new to report. There have been no Bentley Caine sightings.”

She let out the breath she’d been holding. “Okay. So what do we do?”

“Have you had breakfast?”

“I didn’t have time—”

“Follow me,” he said.

“But shouldn’t we get to work looking for your grandfather?”

“We will. But I can get more searching out of you if you’re fed. It won’t take long.”

“I’m fine. I never eat—” She stopped when it sank in that he was ignoring her and she was talking to his retreating back. A nice one it was, too—broad shoulders, narrowing to a trim waist and a fine example of why women go gaga over a man’s rear end.

She looked around as she went after him. Surprisingly, the inside of her dream house wasn’t flashy, but homey and comfortable. And big, big, big. The family room, with its high-volume ceiling, featured a large area rug over the wood floor where a beige semicircular corner group sat in front of an imposing floor-to-fourteen-foot-ceiling river rock fireplace. The dining area was filled with an oak ball-and-claw-foot table, ten chairs and a matching buffet grandly holding a space against the wall.

The kitchen was large, really large. An island in the center had beige and black-flecked granite tops that coordinated with the rest of the counters. The refrigerator had a false front that matched the cupboard doors. A combined oven and microwave, with a gas cooktop beside it, were tucked seamlessly into the expanse.

“I’ve only seen the house from the outside,” she said. “The inside is pretty incredible, too.”

He glanced around. “I suppose.”

“How could you leave it?”

One of his eyebrows lifted questioningly. “I believe you know why.”

“I know what you told me, but I still don’t understand why. Families fight. They work it out.”

“Some don’t.”

“My family struggled with a budget for as long as I can remember. You were born to this and walked away. I just don’t get it.”

He took a mug from the cupboard and poured coffee into it, then handed it to her. “Milk or sugar?”

“Black’s fine. Are you going to answer my question?”

“Why did I walk away?” He leaned against the counter and folded his arms over his broad, muscular chest. “Some things are more important than four walls, no matter how much square footage and luxury those walls encompass.”

“Such as?”

“Loyalty and integrity.”

Interesting choice of words. She remembered a younger, still cynical, and every bit as sexy version of this man who’d befriended a geeky, hostile teenage girl. Now, high-profile magazines often showed his chiseled features in photos with beautiful, powerful female executives on his arm. Which one was the real Max Caine?

“Loyalty?” she said, then sipped her coffee. “Your grandfather kept tabs on you. He told me when you got your master’s degree. He shared news of the successes of your consulting business. And he told me he contacted you to try and mend fences.”

She found that callous and unfeeling, at odds with the young man who’d given the time of day to a nerdy fourteen-year-old. And if he did, in fact, have the emotions of an ice cube, why was he back now? Was he telling the truth when he’d said he would only be there long enough to see his grandfather, then catch the first plane out?

“When someone takes a shot at you, it’s not especially bright to give them another opportunity,” he said.

A shot at him? What was he talking about? That implied he felt wronged. But— No. She wasn’t going to do this. She refused to waste any more energy on Max. Since he’d turned up in her office yesterday, she’d spent way too much time analyzing his motivations. And that made her cranky, curious and cautious in equal parts.

“Okay. Obviously we’re going to have to agree to disagree. The sooner we start looking for your grandfather, the better,” she said. “If you insist on feeding me breakfast first, let’s get it over with.”

“What would you like?” he asked, his voice dropping to give the words the improper tone of double entendre.

Her heart skipped and she was annoyed at her involuntary response to him. “Are you going to call the butler to whip something up?” she said, struggling to keep her own voice from slipping into breathlessness.

She wasn’t used to this give-and-take between the sexes. Until last night’s dinner with Max, it had been a very long time since she’d been alone with a good-looking man. Her focus on school to the exclusion of almost everything else might have been too narrow. All those college classes hadn’t prepared her for social situations. But she suspected a plethora of social awareness still wouldn’t have prepared her to deal with Max Caine.