Expecting the Boss's Baby / Twins Under His Tree: Expecting the Boss's Baby

“You’re right. We are. And that’s why it’s important that we understand each other.”

So then they had a problem. A big one. She didn’t understand this guy at all.

He was still talking. “You would have your hands full fielding my calls, dealing with catering for meetings, handling my correspondence and any other of a thousand and one tasks I’ll be assigning to you. It’s doubtful you’d be getting your big break as a photographer.”

Zoe had to be honest with herself. This was not looking very promising. In spite of how much he admired her mother, he’d decided not to hire her. And by now, she was less than sure she wanted this job anyway. She crossed her legs, smoothed her slim skirt over her knees and said drily, “No sex, no pictures. Got it.”

He slanted her a look of purely male appreciation—and wasn’t there a hint of humor in that dark glance, as well? “Sorry.” All at once he looked kind of boyish and awkward. That surprised her. Until then, she’d never thought of Dax Girard as anything but all grown-up, a little too sophisticated—and way too concerned about not having sex with her. “I’m trying to cover all the bases here,” he said. “The truth is I haven’t had such great luck choosing my assistants in the past.”

Judging by the way he’d managed this interview, she wasn’t surprised.

He added, “Twice, I tried just letting HR handle it.” His mouth formed a grim line. “That didn’t work out either.”

It was none of her business, but she asked anyway. “Why not?”

He looked slightly pained. “I want someone efficient and professional. But not scary. Not … intimidating. I like a little personality in my assistant. Someone easy on the eyes. And a sense of humor is a must. HR couldn’t seem to strike the right balance on that.”

She realized that all his talk of sex and photography had not only annoyed her and made her wonder if she really wanted this job after all, but it had also somehow served to ease her nervousness. She spoke frankly, “I don’t know what else to tell you, Dax. I do have a personality. A pretty strong one, to be honest. I want an interesting job that doesn’t require the college degree I don’t have. Working for you just might be perfect. I subscribe to your magazine. I like the layout. The articles are fun and informative and make me want to visit the places I’m reading about. And I enjoy your editorials. And being your assistant would probably offer me a lot of variety, of varying kinds of responsibilities, which means I wouldn’t be bored.”

He stared out toward the big windows that provided a prime view of San Antonio real estate. “Well, yes. Variety, you’ll get. Beyond the usual, you’ll have some minor editorial responsibilities, probably assist on things like the calendar shoot.” The Great Escapes calendar featured gorgeous women wearing skimpy clothing in a wide range of beautiful settings. “You would have to expect to travel—not in the first few months, but certainly after I have time to learn to count on you.”

She brightened at the thought. “The monthly Spotlight?” Seven or eight months a year, when he didn’t use a contributing editor for the Spotlight, Dax personally traveled to some exotic locale for his feature story.

“Yes,” he said. “The Spotlight.”

She told him candidly, “I’m not looking for an office romance or a chance to break out my Nikon and start shooting. Just a job, Dax. Just this job.”

He frowned some more. And then he stood up. “All right. Let’s give it a try.”

She couldn’t believe it. He was hiring her after all. She bounced to her feet and took his offered hand.

He said, “There’s a two-week trial period, starting Monday. At the end of the two weeks, we talk again. We evaluate and make a decision on whether or not you stay on. Welcome to Great Escapes.”

She smiled then, a wide smile. If she liked working here, she would definitely be staying on—because she intended to make herself irreplaceable. “Thank you, Dax.”

“Monday. Check in with HR at eight-thirty.”

“I will. See you then.”

Dax sank back into his chair and watched Zoe Bravo go. She had a great walk, smooth, with just a hint of a sway to her softly curving hips. He liked her smile and those beautiful blue eyes.

But would she make a good assistant?

He had no clue. As he’d openly confessed to her, hiring editorial assistants was not his strong suit. In fact, he was lousy at it.

But he had liked her instantly, had wished he could ask her out instead of giving her a job. However, he’d felt a certain obligation to carry through with the offer he had made to her mother. Aleta Bravo was a charming woman. And he was pleased to be able to help her daughter get a start in publishing.

At the very least, he had a feeling Aleta’s daughter would be amusing. She would keep things lively around the office. He liked things lively.

And miracles did happen, didn’t they, now and then? Zoe just might turn out to be efficient, organized and hardworking, to have a talent for the magazine business.

Then he would get over his attraction to her and be grateful to have found her.

If not, well, it wasn’t as though he’d made a lifetime commitment to her. For once, he’d had the good sense to give himself an easy out. After fourteen days, he could simply let her go.

And he would. If she wasn’t a good fit, he would fire her two weeks from Monday with no hesitation.

And then he would ask her to have dinner with him.

Zoe’s cell started ringing when she got off the elevator on the ground floor: her mother. She smiled at the cute guy behind the security desk and tucked the BlackBerry back in her purse without answering it.

But then it rang again as she got in her car. Her mom must be wondering—and getting impatient about it.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Well?”

“He hired me.”

“Oh, I knew it. I think you’ll love this job, sweetheart.”

“I think so, too.” Or at least, she would if her new boss would only realize that the job was all she was after. “But I’m not locked in yet. It’s a two-week trial and then we’ll discuss a permanent position.”

“A trial? Is that usual?”

Zoe almost let herself get defensive. But not quite. It was a reasonable question after all. “I gather he hasn’t had good luck with his assistants. He’s a little trigger-shy. But that’s okay. I am going to be terrific.”

“I know you are.” Her mom was smiling. Zoe could hear it in her voice.

“Thanks for the heads-up on this, Mom.”

“I want to help. You know that.”

“I do know.” She stuck her key in the ignition. “Okay, then. I’m on my way to the salon next.” She blew a long strand of chestnut hair out of her eyes. “I seriously need a cut. Gotta look good for my first day on the job. Love you and see you soon.”

“Wait.”

“Hmm?”

“We haven’t seen you for Sunday dinner at the ranch in a while….”

Zoe made a grim face at herself as she adjusted the rearview mirror. Bravo Ridge, the family ranch, was a short drive from San Antonio. Zoe’s mom and dad lived in SA, but most weekends they went to the ranch. Sunday dinner was kind of a family tradition. Not all the Bravo siblings made it every time, but they each made an effort to show up at least every month or two.

Zoe hadn’t gone in a while, not since early spring. She knew she was past due to put in an appearance.

“Zoe, honey, you still there?”

“Right here, Mom.”