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

He sighed heavily. “Dammit. I can’t fire you anyway. It’s complicated.”

From the other side of the door came a joint sigh of relief that made her feel marginally better. At least his employees wanted her to stay. She relaxed marginally with relief. She hadn’t failed yet!

I’ll show you, Dad. I can do this. But then his words sank in. “You can’t fire me? How come?”

His already impossibly hard jaw hardened even more. “Never mind. What do you know about being a secretary?”

“Uh…” What she knew would fit in her back pocket—if she had one. “I can make coffee,” she improvised, drawing on the one skill she thought she probably shared with every good secretary.

Joe Brownley closed his eyes and groaned.

“And,” she added brilliantly, completely undeterred by his response, “I have a really nice telephone voice!”

Joe was first and foremost a thinker. There was nothing he liked less than to not understand something—and he didn’t come close to understanding Edmund’s daughter. “Tell me this,” he begged. “Why do you want this job?”

“Well…that’s a long story.” A shrug lifted her petite shoulders and her not so petite breasts, which were already straining against her sweater. “I doubt you’d understand.”

“I’m of average intelligence,” he said dryly. “Try me.”

Curious now, he crossed his arms and leaned back against the door frame. “You’re rich as sin, princess. And I know for a fact your father had you in a beachfront condo, and a fancy car.”

She laughed shortly, her doe eyes looking a little wild.

“So why do you want a job like this?”

“I just do.” She licked her lips. “And the will says you’ll give it to me.”

She was right, and the reminder of it was a slap in the face. Edmund had given Joe everything, everything, and in return he’d asked for only one little favor.

It was time to stop griping about it and accept the facts. For better or worse, he was stuck with his new assistant.

At least until she quit.

“Okay, Ms. Taylor,” he said wearily, rubbing his temples. “Here’s how this is going to work. I’m in the middle of something pretty important and hate to be bothered. I guess I could use someone to handle the phones.”

A cheer went up on the other side of the door; Joe hauled it open. Again, the three young men stumbled awkwardly into the room. Immediately, they all straightened, tried to look casual.

Disgusted, Joe said, “These yo-yos are my techs,” he told Caitlin. “Huey, Dewey and Louie.”

Two of them were identical twins. One of the tall, skinny, dark-haired twenty-odd-year-olds stuck out his hand, a wide grin on his face. “Hi. I’m Andy.” He pumped Caitlin’s hand so enthusiastically, she feared he might pull her arm right out of the socket, but his expression was so kind, so sincere, she just smiled back, relieved beyond speech by the friendly face.

“I provide tech support to our customers,” he said. “As well as keeping Joe here human by dragging him out of here every night.”

Human? Could have fooled her.

“I’m Tim,” said the other twin. He, too, grinned from ear to ear. “I also help with tech support, but basically Joe couldn’t function without me because I have all the charm and personality.”

Joe rolled his eyes.

Tim nodded. “It’s true.” He looked at Caitlin, his eyes shining with good humor. “And you’re really great.”

“Thank you,” said Caitlin smiling, thinking they were pretty great, too.

The third, a medium-built redhead who looked to be in his early thirties, smiled shyly and kept his hands firmly in his pockets when he introduced himself. “I’m Vince. I work in product development with Joe.”

“We’ve been wanting a new secretary,” Tim said into the awkward silence. “Really bad. Ever since the last one…uh…left.”

Andy nodded emphatically. “Joe scared her off, and—” He broke off at the look on Joseph’s face.

Another awkward silence. Tim bit his lip. Andy stared at his feet. Vince watched Caitlin send a curious, cautious glance to Joe. “She, uh…didn’t work out,” Vince said diplomatically. “It wasn’t really anyone’s fault exactly.”

Joe scoffed. “No need to mince words, Vince. You can tell her the truth.”

Whether it was loyalty or simple resistance to Joseph’s tone, Vince remained silent, stubbornly buttoning his lip.

“I’ll tell her,” Tim piped up in a stage whisper that everyone within three miles could have heard. He looked at Caitlin and confided, “Joe scared the last three women off. You don’t scare easily, do you?”

“I…” She thought of her bills. Of the creditors. “No.”

“Joe’s not all that great with women,” Tim said.

Vince laughed softly when Joe shook his head, disgusted.

“We begged him to get someone in here to do the filing and answer the phones. And to lighten things up a bit. You know—someone to have fun with. That’s all. No offense, you understand,” Andy said quickly.

“None taken,” Caitlin assured him, delighted with her sweet new workmates.

“But the longest any of them lasted is about three hours,” admitted Tim.

Looking into the frowning, incredibly handsome face of Joe Brownley, Caitlin had no problem imagining why. “You don’t say.”

Vince laughed again, and some of the tension dispersed. “He’s all bark, no bite,” he assured her, but some of his amusement faded when Joe glared at him.

“Why is everyone talking about me as if I’m not standing right here?”

Vince ignored him. “Sort of like a terrier,” he elaborated. “Loud and gruff. Then passive as a kitten.”

“Really?” She eyed the very annoyed Joe. The long, lean lines of his body were stiff. His eyes like ice. Passive was the last word she would have used.

“Back to work, guys,” he said stiffly, his wide shoulders tense.

Tim hesitated at the door. “Nice to meet you, Caitlin. I hope you stay.”

“Do you really know how to make coffee?” Andy asked plaintively. “Because—”

“Andy,” Joe said, his voice careful and quiet. “Don’t you have something, anything, to do?”

“Yeah, I guess.” His shoulders slumped. “It’s just that you make really crappy coffee, Joe. And—”