Misbehaving with the Millionaire: The Millionaire's Misbehaving Mistress

“No, you let David offer you up like a sacrificial lamb to save his own sorry skin and you slunk out of D.C. with your tail between your legs.”

“My reputation was shot. No one would have hired me after that fiasco.”

“That’s an exaggeration.” Sarah held up a hand to keep her from interrupting. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s over and done with and you’ve established yourself here. You’re older and wiser and you have a sterling reputation. I don’t see any reason why you can’t explore a possible romantic relationship with an attractive man—”

“Whom I just happen to work for?” Had Sarah lost her mind completely this time?

“This is a bit different. David was your boss. Will Harrison is your client.”

“You’re splitting hairs. And any way you look at it, it still leads to the same disastrous end.” Gwen closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I just need to start dating again. Got anyone in mind?”

“You mean other than Will?” she smirked.

“Sarah, please.”

“I’ll think about it. Meanwhile—”

A flash of ice-blue caught her eye and she turned. “Evie!” How long had she been standing there? She searched Evie’s face for a sign she’d overhead their whispered conversation, but Evie seemed to be fully focused on twirling in front of the mirror.

Sarah shot her a look that said the conversation wasn’t over, and Gwen made a mental note to screen her calls for the next few days. She had enough on her plate without adding Sarah’s overromanticized matchmaking.

But Sarah was right about one thing. She wasn’t the same naive girl she was five years ago. Last night’s odd moment with Will could be—would have to be—forgotten. She’d just needed a reminder of how far she’d come.

Will knew he should be more concerned about the fact Nancy was ill and less irritated because it threw his life into disarray, but it was increasingly hard to do so when the temp sent up from HR was next to worthless. Maybe “worthless” was too harsh of a word; Nancy spoiled him with her efficiency and her ability to know what he needed without him having to spell it out. The only task the temp, Jenni, managed to complete in the last five hours was ordering flowers for Nancy. Everything else lay in various stages of completion on her desk.

He sincerely hoped Nancy got well quickly, because, damn it, he wanted his secretary back.

Now Jenni wasn’t answering her intercom. This was ridiculous. Cursing, he made a list of everything that absolutely had to be done today, carried it to Nancy’s desk and stuck it to the computer screen. When Jenni came back from wherever the hell she’d disappeared to, she’d have no reason not to see it.

A folder labeled “G. Sawyer” caught his eye. Why would that be on Nancy’s desk? He opened it and found copies of the contract and nondisclosure agreement inside, as well as a check from his personal account for the full amount of Gwen’s services. Nancy must have written the check the afternoon before but not had time to give it to him for his signature. He removed the check and left a sticky note for Nancy explaining he would deliver it personally. He placed the folder back in Nancy’s in-box, and went back to his office.

It was three-thirty on a Friday afternoon. Without Nancy, much of his normal daily business had come to a complete halt, and it made zero sense to try to work on anything important. The late summer sunshine streamed through the wall of windows.

What the hell. His e-mail in-box was empty. The silence from the offices surrounding his meant most of the executive staff had left early. He should give himself a break and cut out early as well. He could take Evie and Gwen out to dinner.

Whistling, he packed up and called it a day. His receptionist stuttered as he walked by and wished her a good weekend. The security guard in the lobby checked his watch, confusion evident on his face. How long had it been since he’d left the office early?

He called home only to be informed by Mrs. Gray that Evie and Gwen weren’t back from their shopping trip yet. He gave her the evening off and tried Evie on her cell phone.

“Did you have fun shopping?”

“It was amazing, Will. I found the most awesome dress for the Med Ball, and Sarah and Liza had like the entire store in my size in the dressing room and all I had to do was try stuff on.”

Evie bubbled over with excitement. Something else he owed Gwen for: making Evie smile. “Sarah and Liza?”

“Sarah’s Gwen’s sister. She’s great, but not as great as Gwen. Liza’s my new personal shopper.”

Personal shopper? “Remind me I want my credit card back.”

“Oh, no problem. Liza set me up my own account.”

Gwen laughed in the background, and Evie kept chattering away. When she paused for breath, he interrupted. “Are y’all done for the day?”

Evie relayed the question to Gwen, and he thought he heard an “Oh, definitely” before Evie replied, “I guess so.”

“How about I take you to dinner tonight? I gave Mrs. Gray the night off, and maybe we could catch a movie afterward.”

“Can Gwen come, too?”

“If she’d like.”

Evie’s voice muffled as she invited Gwen to join them for dinner and a movie. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Evie came back on the line.

“She says yes, but not any place fancy. She didn’t pack any dressy clothes.”

He was oddly pleased at the way this was working out. “That will work. I’m on my way home now, so I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“You’re on your way home now?” Evie sounded shocked.

“Well, yes. Is that a problem?”

“No, you just never leave work early.”

She made him sound like some kind of workaholic. Maybe in her eyes he was.

Traffic was light and he made it home in record time. The doorman looked surprised to see him and asked if everything was all right. Okay, he really was working too much.

The quiet of the apartment felt unusual now, whereas in the past he’d never noticed the silence. He turned on the TV for background noise—first to the twenty-four-hours news channel, then changed his mind and scrolled through the channels for something else. He settled on a bio-documentary on John Lennon and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He tossed his tie on the coffee table before propping his feet on it, sipped his beer, and waited for Evie and Gwen to get home.

He didn’t have to wait very long. Evie burst through the front door still talking a mile a minute to Gwen about something called espadrilles before interrupting herself to shout, “Will, we’re home! Come see what I got!”

Hard on the heels of her words, Evie and Gwen turned the corner into the living room, weighed down by what had to be a large portion of Neiman Marcus’s stock. Ricky, the doorman, followed, his arms also overflowing.

Will flashed on a memory of Evie’s mother returning from marathon shopping in the early days of her marriage loaded down in much the same way. Evie must have inherited the gene from Rachel. “Did you leave anything at the store?”

“Just the stuff that needs to be altered. It won’t be ready until next week.” Evie was already headfirst in one of the bags, pulling out clothes and shoes for him to see.

Gwen’s smile was tired as she off-loaded bags and boxes and took bags from Ricky’s outstretched arms. “Thanks for saving us another trip.”

“My pleasure, Miss Sawyer. Miss Evie must’ve really enjoyed herself today.”

“I think she did.” Gwen graced Ricky with a smile that had Ricky blushing behind his freckles.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“So am I,” Will added, as Ricky pocketed a hefty tip and left. “But you look worn-out.”

Gwen sank to the couch and toed off her shoes. “Evie is a power shopper. I’m not. I’m never doing that again.”