How To Be the Perfect Girlfriend

Sara swallowed again, and attempted to end the conversation with some finesse. She linked her fingers together. “I wanted to reassure you that your trust in my competence has not been misplaced.”

There. That should be precise enough for him.

“Right.” He looked down at his desk. “Well, I’ll just delete this scathing memo to the head of Human Resources denouncing your…competence.”

He pressed a key on the open laptop on the desk in front of him and then closed it.

Sara forgot to breathe.

Simon smiled faintly. “I was joking.”

“Oh!” Sara giggled inanely. “I knew that!”

“No, you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“A lot of people don’t get my jokes. I’ve always thought I was quite witty.” The line was delivered with the perfect deadpan expression. Despite his strait-laced reputation, the man clearly had a sense of humor. Don’t think about that.

Sara laughed, then wondered if she should have. “Maybe your jokes are just too subtle.”

“Chalk it up to my repressed boarding school up-bringing.”

“In England?”

“Yes.”

“You have a faint accent,” she told him so he wouldn’t think she’d been snooping in his file. And she hadn’t—not much.

“So does anyone who isn’t from Texas. I do try. I’ve been sprinkling y’alls and howdys throughout all my conversations.”

Sara tried to imagine a “y’all” passing Simon’s lips. Which made her look at his lips and the way they rested in that almost-smile position. His square jaw made him look strong, but the lips gave him a hint of vulnerability. All in all, it was a potent combination, especially considering his other body parts, which Sara had in no way forgotten.

He had a way of looking at her—maybe everyone—which made her believe that his entire attention was focused on her.

That was potent, too. It kept her focused on him and not on the fact that she should leave and he was being too polite to shoo her out.

Politeness was a lost art these days and highly underrated, Sara thought. Was it on her list of preferred male traits?

Voices erupted from the elevator. Female voices. Surely they were coming to meet with Simon. “Your visitors are here, so I’ll take off. Thanks again.”

He looked as though he was going to say something when Sara distinctly heard the sound of running. She was so surprised that she didn’t go anywhere. An instant later, two girls rounded the corner and headed straight for her. Sara stepped back into the office as the taller of the two reached out and slapped the door frame. “I won!”

“Kayla,” Simon said sternly.

Sara stood there, filled with an entirely inappropriate curiosity.

“This is a place of business,” he continued.

Kayla gave him a disgusted look. “Oh, chill.”

He took a deep breath that told Sara he’d taken many deep breaths in regard to Kayla. He turned to the dark-haired girl beside Kayla. “Howdy, Amber. How’re y’all doing?”

Sara tried to muffle her burst of surprised laughter and thought she was going to swallow her tongue. She made a noise that drew Kayla’s attention.

“Hey, is this your girlfriend?” Kayla eyed her with Hayden-like interest.

Sara judged her to be about twelve or thirteen, the age when girls had boys on the brain. Unlike Sara who had men on the brain.

“I work with Mr. Northrup,” she said.

“Mr. Northrup!” Kayla giggled and jostled a smiling Amber.

“Kayla, I told you girls not to run.” A woman appeared in the doorway of Simon’s office.

“Mom! It’s after hours. Nobody cares.”

Sara stared at Kayla’s mother. The woman was sophisticated perfection and moved with supreme self-confidence. It was as though Missy and Hayden had merged. Merged their ages, too. She looked to be in her early thirties.

And it wasn’t as though she was wearing a killer ladies-who-lunch suit, either. No, she had on slacks and pointy-toed shoes or boots, and a top with a matching sweater’s sleeves tied around her neck just so. A leather messenger bag—Prada? Kate Spade?—was slung over her shoulder.

Here, before her, was the perfect woman, and Sara realized just how far she was going to have to go to attract and hold the interest of Simon Northrup’s type.

Clearly, this was the woman and child that the rumor mill had been buzzing about. Well. Had she ever thought for one minute about flirting for real with Simon Northrup, this chance meeting put an end to that.

She was lucky. Oh, so lucky. She cringed at the thought of future humiliation averted.

There would be plenty of cringing and more humiliation at the complete and ruthless assessment of herself that would occur later, when she compared herself to the polished woman eyeing her with faintly dismissive curiosity. Oh, to master that look. Hayden no doubt had it in her arsenal. Sara would ask her to teach it to her.

Now if she could just slink away unnoticed….

“Sara?” Simon’s voice stopped her.

He was going to introduce her. No. Please don’t. There’ll be the inevitable comparisons and—

But of course he would introduce her because he was polite. Maybe politeness was overrated after all.

“This wild thing is my half sister, Kayla, and this is her friend, Amber.”

Sara nodded, gathering what poise she could. Plastering a smile to her face, she turned toward the woman who was probably Simon’s lover. Someone who didn’t have to jam a photocopier to see his—better not go there.

“And this is my stepmother, Joanna.”

3

JOANNA WAS PISSED. Simon took a small pleasure in watching her face take on that set, slightly frowning look. She didn’t like him to refer to her as his stepmother, but since she was his stepmother she couldn’t object.

Simon knew the office grapevine would be humming with the information by tomorrow morning. Live by the grapevine, die by the grapevine. He knew people had wondered about Joanna and Kayla and had assumed he was dating. He’d allowed the rumor to grow because right now, Joanna and Kayla had first call on his time and emotional energy. Especially Kayla.