Married to His Business / Six-Month Mistress: Married to His Business

The thought made him stop dead in his tracks, halfway up the stairs. Blow off work? Since when had he ever blown off work? For any reason? And how could anything be more than work? Work was everything. Talk about something that should have made him erupt into laughter.

But he didn’t laugh at that, either. Instead, he realized he’d left his laptop out in the trunk of the car. Worse, he realized that, even if he’d remembered to bring it in with him, he wasn’t completely sure how to get to all the files he needed to get to. That had always been Kendall’s job. Knowing how to pull up whatever needed pulling up and pulling it up for him. Hell, half the time, she’d taken care of whatever needed pulling and then pushed it back down again.

He was going to have to hire a temp for now, he told himself. Surely there was a temp agency close by. Tahoe City maybe. Too bad Kendall wasn’t here. She would have found just the right person, and she would have had the person here five minutes ago. But how hard could it be? he asked himself. He just needed to find the phone book, and he’d be good to go.

So where did people keep their phone books, anyway…

By the time she entered the bar of the Timber Lake Inn that evening, Kendall had accepted the fact that it, like everything else in the establishment, would be cozy. Sure enough, it was. Like the rest of the hotel, it was pine-paneled with hardwood floors and Native American rugs, but the lighting was lower than in the other public rooms, softer and more golden, and very… Well, there was just no way around it. Romantic.

Matthias was right. This wasn’t the sort of hotel any businessman in his right mind would use for business functions. Nevertheless, she was confident Stephen DeGallo had his reasons for using it. Besides trying to lull Kendall into a false sense of security, which Matthias had implied—hah—was the case. Or to lull her into anything else, either. For all she knew, the Timber Lake Inn was the only hotel in Lake Tahoe that had had any openings when Stephen scheduled the orientation. And the fact that Lake Tahoe itself was such a cozy, romantic destination that was kind of an odd choice for a business orientation had nothing to do with anything. It was centrally located, that was all.

She shook the thought almost literally out of her head and smoothed her hand one final time over the chocolate-brown trousers and cream-colored shirt she’d donned for the evening. Stephen had said the evening would be casual, and what she had on was casual attire. It was. Even if it was the same kind of thing she’d worn to work every day when she was with Matthias. Ah, working for Matthias, she quickly corrected herself. And the reason she’d wound her hair up into its usual workplace bun and put on her usual workplace glasses wasn’t because she was trying to overcompensate for the cozy, romantic environment. It wasn’t. It was because she just hadn’t felt like going to any trouble. She had low-maintenance hair. So sue her. And even though she didn’t need her glasses all the time, what with the low lighting and everything, she figured she’d need them.

So there.

She scanned the bar for a group of people who looked as if they were training for new careers, but saw only couples at a handful of tables here and there. Cozy couples. Romantic couples. In fact, one couple was being so romantic Kendall wanted to yell, “Jeez, people, get a room!” Glancing down at her watch, she realized she was a little early, so maybe she was the first member of the OmniTech orientation group to arrive. Then a movement in the corner of the room—the farthest corner—and the darkest corner, she couldn’t help noticing—caught her eye, and she realized it was Stephen DeGallo, waving at her.

She lifted a hand in return and made her way in that direction, picking her way through the tables as she looked around for anyone else who might be joining him. And somehow, she refrained from muttering, Jeez, people, get a room as she passed by the overly demonstrative couple. Nor did she toss a glass of ice water over them, which was another thought she hadn’t quite been able to quell.

“Kendall,” Stephen said warmly when she was within earshot. “Great to see you again. Glad you made it in one piece.”

“It’s great to be here, Stephen,” she said as she extended her hand in greeting. “Thanks again for giving me this opportunity. I’m very excited about working for OmniTech.”

He grasped her hand in both of his, not really shaking it, per se, just holding it for perhaps a moment longer than was necessary, something that made her think about Matthias’s warning again. Which she immediately pushed out of her brain. Stephen was just being friendly. And she was just being overly sensitive, thanks to Matthias’s ridiculous ideas about Stephen only wanting her because of her ties to Barton Limited. This was what happened when you were employed by a workaholic for so many years. You forgot that normal people could be casual and friendly, even in professional situations.

And Stephen’s smile did put Kendall immediately at ease. Although he wasn’t a handsome man, he was by no means unattractive. He was slim and fit, and was dressed according to his own edict—casually—in a pair of softly faded blue jeans and a white polo shirt. His blue eyes held intelligence and good humor, and his dark blond hair was just beginning to go gray, threaded here and there with bits of silver. What he lacked in handsomeness, he more than made up for in charisma. He was just one of those people who had a gift for taking charge of a situation without being overbearing, and making people feel better that he had.

Kendall had done her homework after his offer of employment, so she knew quite a bit about him. In many ways, he was as devoted to his company as Matthias was to Barton Limited, but where Matthias’s extracurricular and social activities all still seemed to involve his work, Stephen DeGallo was a man who enjoyed his leisure time. He was a champion yachtsman and active in a charitable foundation he had started ten years ago that mentored gifted, but underprivileged high school students.

He was not just a good businessman, but a good guy, Kendall had discovered. And her admiration of him was due to both.

She seated herself in the chair he held out for her, folding her elbows on the table and weaving her fingers lightly together. Then she gave him her most businesslike smile. “Am I the first to arrive?” she asked, even though the answer was obvious.

“Actually,” Stephen said as he folded himself into the chair opposite hers, “right now, you’re the only one who’s here.”

Kendall told herself she just imagined the note of vague discomfort she thought she heard in his voice. More of Matthias’s influence on her nerves, she was sure. Still, it was odd that no one else had arrived yet.

“Don’t tell me I’m the only one who got here on time,” she said.

“No, of course not,” he told her. “The others just aren’t scheduled to arrive until Wednesday.”

Wednesday? Kendall thought. That was two whole days away. “Oh,” she said, the word sounding more disappointed than she’d intended.

“The others are training for management positions,” he said by way of an explanation. “You’re the only VP candidate this time around. So I thought it would be nice if the two of us could have a couple of days where I could go over some of the policies and procedures that won’t be pertinent to everyone else’s training.”

That made sense, Kendall thought.

“But first, a drink,” he said, motioning to a waiter who had been hovering within range. “What would you like? I discovered a wonderful California pinot noir recently that’s absolutely delightful.”

“Thanks,” Kendall told him, “but I’ll just have a bottle of sparkling water.”

He threw her a look of mock effrontery. “But we’re celebrating your joining the OmniTech team,” he objected.

“Which is why I ordered sparkling water,” she said with a smile.

He smiled back, dipping his head forward in acknowledgment. “Then I’ll have the same,” he told the waiter. “Now then,” he added as their server departed, “I thought we could spend much of tonight talking about how—”

“Stephen DeGallo!”

Kendall flinched at the sound of the booming, all-too-familiar voice, but managed to otherwise keep her irritation in check. Well, enough that no one would notice it, anyway. Though she had to admit that Stephen didn’t look any happier about the interruption than she was. Nevertheless, good businessman—and guy—that he was, he smiled as he rose to greet Matthias. Kendall turned in her chair to acknowledge her former employer, but remained seated, hoping that small act of discourtesy would illustrate her pique in a way that wasn’t quite as impolite as other actions might have been. Actions like, oh…Kendall didn’t know. Tripping him as he strode past her to shake Stephen’s hand. Calling him a big poophead. Stuff like that.

She noticed Stephen didn’t grasp Matthias’s hand in both of his the way he had hers—in fact, he gave Matthias’s one, two, three firm, manly shakes and released it. Then again, Matthias was a rival, so naturally, Stephen’s greeting to him wouldn’t be as familiar as his to Kendall had been. Similarly, it was understandable why Stephen’s posture, too, with Matthias would be more assertive, more straightforward, more businesslike, than it had been with Kendall. Wouldn’t it?

Yeah. Sure. Of course.

“Matthias Barton,” Stephen greeted him. “Long time, no see. What have you been up to?”

“Besides competing with you for the Perkins contract?” Matthias replied. “Not much.”

Well, he’d recently lost his personal assistant of five years, Kendall thought irritably. Or so she’d heard. That was kind of major.

As if he’d read her mind, Matthias turned to her then and feigned tremendous surprise—though, Kendall thought, not very well.

“Why, Kendall Scarborough,” he said with overblown amazement. “What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since…” He pretended to search his memory banks—again, not exactly an Academy Award-winning performance—then snapped his fingers. “Since you gave me your two weeks’ notice to go work for some fly-by-night company.”

She sighed wearily. “Well, except for this afternoon in my room, when you offered me my job back.”

Now Stephen was the one to look surprised, Kendall noted. Only his was obviously genuine. Then he smiled, and looked at Matthias again. “Really?” he asked the other man.

Matthias looked a little uncomfortable now, and this time, he wasn’t pretending. “It was just a formality,” he said. “I always offer my exes the chance to come back, once they come to their senses and realize what a mistake they made, leaving Barton Limited.”

Kendall couldn’t prevent the snort of laughter that escaped her at that. Yeah, right. Matthias had the longest memory of anyone she’d ever met, and he never forgot a slight—real or imagined. If someone elected to leave the company for any reason, he had that person’s personnel file expunged within the hour, as if they never existed. And he certainly never went looking for that person to offer them an opportunity to return.

Not until this afternoon, anyway, she reminded herself.

But the only reason he’d come looking for her, she further told herself, was because he hadn’t known how to program his new BlackBerry. The offer to take her back had obviously been off-the-cuff, and had doubtless been extended for the same reason. He thought she was the only one who knew how to program one of those things. He didn’t realize anyone could do it for him. Well, anyone except Matthias Barton.

“Well, Barton,” Stephen said now, “had you appreciated Kendall’s possibilities, the way I do, then maybe you wouldn’t have lost her in the first place.”

Kendall started to smile at that, then stopped. Something about the way Stephen had said it made it sound kind of unprofessional. Just what had he meant by possibilities? That was kind of a strange word to use. Why not abilities? Or talents? Or expertise? Possibilities made it sound as though he considered her a blank slate or unformed mass that he could turn into whatever he wanted.

“I assure you, DeGallo,” Matthias replied, “that Kendall was one of my most prized possessions at Barton Limited. I hope you realize what an asset she’ll be to OmniTech.”

All right, Kendall thought. That did it. Forget about blank slates and unformed masses. Matthias had just made her sound like a new computer system. Possession? Asset? Just who did he think he was?

“Prized possession?” she echoed indignantly.

Matthias looked down at her and must have realized immediately from both her voice and her expression—and, most likely, the quick drop in temperature among the small group—what a colossal gaffe he’d just made. “Uh…” he began eloquently.

“If that’s the case,” she continued while he was still off balance, “then you better go over my operating instructions while you’re here. I wouldn’t want Stephen to think he acquired a defective machine.”

The look Matthias gave her then was almost convincingly distressed. Almost. “Kendall, that’s not—”

This time his words were cut off by Stephen’s light, good-natured laughter. “Sounds to me like she works just fine,” he said. “In fact, this particular model is promising to work better than I initially hoped.”

Matthias’s lips thinned at that. “Yeah, she’s a piece of work, all right,” he muttered.

She smiled sweetly. “And now I’m working for someone else.”

Matthias opened his mouth to respond, but this time was prevented by the arrival of their server, who placed tall sweaty glasses of mineral water in front of Kendall and Stephen. Then the waiter looked at Matthias and asked, “Will you be joining this party?”

Even Matthias, Kendall thought, wouldn’t be crass enough to crash her meeting with Stephen. And he didn’t. Instead, he told their server that no, he was on his own and didn’t want to interrupt anyone’s dinner, so would just take a seat at a table by himself. Then, even though there were at least a dozen empty tables in the restaurant, he pulled out a chair from the table immediately beside Kendall’s and Stephen’s, and seated himself without a care.

Unbelievable, Kendall thought. Evidently, Matthias was that crass, after all. If not in blatantly joining them, then certainly in doing his best to destroy any chance the two of them might have for speaking freely about her new obligations as vice president. There was no way Stephen would discuss the policies of his company in the presence of one of his competitors, even superficially. He confirmed that by shrugging philosophically when Kendall looked at him—not that she needed any confirmation.

So instead of talking about her new job over the course of dinner, Kendall and Stephen instead discussed superficialities like the weather, books, current events and a favorite TV show they had in common…with Matthias throwing in his own commentaries here and there, completely uninvited.

It was going to be a long orientation.

Four

The temp Matthias ordered from a Tahoe City agency—once he found the phone book after thirty minutes of looking for it—arrived promptly at eight o’clock the morning after his arrival. Unfortunately, he’d done something wrong when he tried to set his alarm clock the night before—no, the alarm clock was defective, that was the problem—because it was the ringing of the front doorbell that alerted him to the arrival of his early-morning appointment. Not Kendall, who would have normally alerted Matthias to that. Kendall, too, would have been infinitely less intrusive about her reminder than the doorbell was.

Damn, he thought as he looked groggily at the clock and realized it had stopped working completely. He lifted his watch from the nightstand and grimaced when he saw the time. He never slept this late. And he’d never been unprepared for an appointment. Shoving off the covers, he jackknifed into a sitting position and scrubbed both hands briskly over his face to rouse himself. He grabbed a plain white T-shirt from the bag he hadn’t even begun to unpack, shook it out quickly and thrust it over his head as he descended the stairs. And he thought dryly how lucky he was that it matched his sweatpants so well, otherwise he might have to be embarrassed about his attire. It was only as he was reaching for the doorknob that he realized he’d forgotten to put on shoes, so would be greeting his temporary employee barefoot. Somehow, though, he couldn’t quite rouse the wherewithal to care.

The young man on the other side of the door looked surprised by Matthias’s sudden appearance—and, doubtless, by his slovenly appearance—but quickly schooled his features into indifference. He obviously hadn’t overslept, because he was well-groomed and dressed impeccably in a pale gray suit and white dress shirt, his necktie the only spot of color on his person—if you could consider pale yellow a color. He was young, early twenties at most, his blond hair cut short, his gray eyes nearly the same color as his suit. He looked to Matthias like something from a middle school poster advertising Junior Achievement.

“Mr. Barton?” he said.

Matthias ran a quick hand through his dark hair to tame it as best he could. “Yeah, that’s me,” he replied. Quickly, he amended, “I mean, yes. I’m Matthias Barton.”

“William Denton,” he said, extending his hand. “From DayTimers. I’m your new temp.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Matthias said, holding up a hand. “I haven’t hired you yet.”

This was clearly news to young William. “But they said you need an assistant for the month you’ll be spending here in Hunter’s Landing,” he said.

“I do need an assistant for the month,” Matthias told him. “But I’m not going to take any Tom, Dick or William they send my way. I need to make sure you have all the qualifications I need for an assistant.”

Young William smiled confidently. “No worries there, Mr. Barton. Temping is just my summer job. I earned my BS from the Haas School of Business at UC Berkeley in May, and I’ll be returning in the fall to start work on my MBA. I’m more than qualified to take on this position.”

Matthias’s back went up at the kid’s presumption. “Are you?” he asked coolly.

William Denton’s confidence seemed to waver a bit. Nevertheless, he replied, “Yes. I am.” As an afterthought, he added, “Sir.”

Matthias nodded, settling his hands on his hips in challenge. They’d just see about that. Without even inviting William Denton into the lodge, he barked, “What are the major managerial and organizational challenges posed by electronic commerce?”

William Denton blinked as if a too-bright flash had gone off right in front of his eyes. “I…what?”

Matthias shook his head, sighed with much gusto, and asked, “All right, if that one’s too tough, then how about this. True or false. In the simple Ricardian model, trade between similar economies is unlikely to generate large gains from that trade.”

William Denton’s lips parted in response to that one, but no words emerged to answer the question. Until, finally, he said, “I…what?”

Man, Matthias thought, this guy was never going to amount to anything if he couldn’t answer the most obvious question in the world. “All right, here’s an easy one,” he said. “Multiple choice. The current ratio and quick ratio are the best indicators of a company’s what? A. liquidity, B. efficiency, C. profitability or D. growth rate.”

William Denton’s mouth began to work over that one—kind of—but his brain didn’t seem to be cooperating.

Matthias shook his head in disappointment. “I’m sorry, Mr. Denton, but I just don’t think you have what it takes to—”

“Wait!” he interrupted. “I know the answer to that one!”

“Unfortunately, your time is up,” Matthias told him. “Tell DayTimers I’ll be in touch.”

And with that, he pushed the front door closed and turned away. From the other side, William Denton called out, “A! It’s A! Liquidity! Right? Am I right?”

He was right, Matthias thought. But it was too little, too late. The person he hired as his assistant was going to have to be a quick thinker and unafraid to speak up, in addition to being knowledgeable and savvy. Like Kendall. William Denton just didn’t have what it took to fill her shoes.

Oh, well. Another candidate lacking even the most rudimentary business skills. Another interview shot to hell. Matthias would just have to look for someone else.

Padding barefoot to the kitchen, he absently pushed the button on the coffeemaker, then went to retrieve the phone book from the same cabinet where he had discovered it the day before. Bypassing DayTimers this time—since, if William Denton was the best they could do, they were obviously a fly-by-night operation—he selected the next agency on the list. After arranging for a prospective temp to come to the lodge later in the day, Matthias turned to pour himself a cup of coffee—

Only to discover that the carafe on the hot pad was empty. In fact, the hot pad wasn’t even hot. He was sure he’d filled the machine with both water and coffee the night before, but lifted the top, anyway, to make sure. Yep. Coffee on one side. Water on the other. Just like the directions said. He checked to make sure the machine was plugged in. Yep. It was. He made sure the cord was attached to the coffeemaker, as well, ensured that the light switch on the wall nearest the appliance was switched to the on position, in case that was necessary, inspected everything he could possibly inspect to see what the problem was. To no avail. He pushed the on button again. Nothing.

Dammit.

Matthias wasn’t one of those pathetic caffeine addicts who couldn’t function without their crack-of-dawn coffee and suffered ugly mood swings when denied. No way. But, like any civilized human being, he liked to enjoy a cup or two in the morning, maybe three if he had time, possibly four or five, if he had a meeting or something, and, okay maybe another jolt or two or three in the afternoon when he needed it. He didn’t have to have coffee. He just wanted it. A lot.

He stared at the coffeemaker intently, drumming his fingers irregularly on the countertop, willing the machine to work. With great deliberation, he pushed the on button again. Nada.

Damn. His gaze lit then on a short stack of papers he’d placed on the countertop the night before. It was the last assignment Kendall had completed before she’d tendered her resignation, a contract she’d typed up for an agreement between Barton Limited and a new consulting firm with whom he’d be doing limited business for the rest of the year. He smiled, and reached for the phone again, punching in a number he knew by heart.

“Kendall,” he said when she answered her cell phone. “It’s…” He started to say “Mr. Barton,” but halted. “Matthias,” he identified himself instead. “There’s a problem with the Donovan contract you typed up before you left. Can you spare a couple of hours this morning to go over it?” He listened to her objection, then said, “I realize that. But this is a problem you’re responsible for, one you need to rectify. And it’s urgent. When can you be here?” He grinned at her reply. “Good. I promise not to keep you any longer than I absolutely have to. And, Kendall,” he added before she had a chance to hang up, “I saw a coffee shop in town. Would you mind swinging by it on your way?”

Kendall stewed as she waited for Matthias to answer the doorbell she’d just rung, and switched the enormous cardboard cup of coffee from one hand to the other as it began to burn her fingers. It had been awkward, to say the least, explaining to Stephen DeGallo on her first official day of training why she needed to take part of the morning off. And although he hadn’t exactly been happy about the request, he’d told her to go ahead, that they could meet again after lunch.

Lunch, she thought now, that she should have been having with her new boss, not the one she’d left behind.

As if conjured by the thought, Matthias opened the door, smiling with what looked like profound relief when he saw her. She softened some at his expression, flattered that, in spite of everything, he still seemed to need her. It was always a nice feeling to have.