The Secretary's Secret

And decide what she would tell Nick.

As she was reaching for the bottom drawer handle, Shannon from accounting appeared in the doorway and Zoë breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hey, hon, you up for lunch with the girls? We’re heading over to Shooters.”

Despite being a nervous wreck, she was starving. Though she normally ate a salad for lunch, she would sell her soul for a burger and fries and a gigantic milkshake. And for dessert, a double chocolate sundae. Hold the pickles.

“Lunch sounds wonderful.”

She grabbed her purse and jacket and gave the file cabinet one last glance before she followed Shannon into the hall.

As soon as she got back from lunch, she promised herself. She would put the test in her purse so she wouldn’t forget it, and tonight when she got home she would get to the bottom of this.

Nick walked down the hall to Zoë’s office and popped his head inside, finding it empty and feeling a screwy mix of relief and disappointment. He’d come to her office now, knowing she would probably be on her lunch break. Though they’d promised to pretend it hadn’t happened, he couldn’t seem to make himself forget every erotic detail of their night together. He’d been doing his best to pretend nothing had changed, but something was still a little…off.

Something about Zoë—a thing he couldn’t quite put his finger on—seemed different.

He couldn’t stop himself from wondering, what if? What if he’d told her he didn’t want to pretend like it hadn’t happened?

He just wasn’t sure if that’s what he really wanted. Were he and Zoë too different for that kind of relationship?

She was a cat person and he had a dog. He was faded Levi’s and worn leather and she was so prim and…girly. His music preferences ranged from classic rock to rich, earthy blues with a little jazz piano thrown in for flavor. Zoë seemed to sway toward eighties pop and any female singer, and she had the annoying habit of blaring Christmas music in July.

He was a meat and potatoes man, and as far as he could tell, Zoë existed on salads and bottled mineral water. He watched reality television and ESPN and she preferred crime dramas and chick flicks.

In fact, he couldn’t think of a single thing they had in common. Besides the sex, which frankly they did pretty damned well.

Even if they could get past all of their differences, there was the problem of them wanting completely different things from life. In all the years he’d known her, she’d never once expressed a desire to have children. Not that he could blame her given her family history. But he’d grown up an only child raised by an aunt and uncle who’d had no use for the eight-year-old bastard dumped in their care. He’d spent his childhood in boarding schools and camps.

He wanted a family—at least three kids, maybe more. He just had to find a woman who wanted that, too. One who wasn’t more interested in climbing the corporate ladder than having a family. And definitely one who wouldn’t insist on a two week European honeymoon followed by mansion hunting in one of Detroit’s most exclusive communities.

Material things didn’t mean much to him. He was content with his modest condo and modest vehicle. His modest life. All the money in the world didn’t buy happiness. Thousands of dollars in gifts from his aunt and uncle had never made up for a lack of love and affection. His children would always know they were loved. They would never be made to feel like an inconvenience. And he sure as hell would never abandon them.

It had taken him years to realize there wasn’t anything wrong with him. That he didn’t drive people away. With a long history of mental illness, his mother could barely take care of herself much less a child, and his aunt and uncle simply had no interest in being parents. It would have been easy for them to hand him back over to social services when his mom lost custody. At least they’d taken responsibility for him.

If not for the lack of affection, one might even say he’d been spoiled as a kid. If he wanted or needed something all it took was a phone call to his uncle and it was his.

A convertible sports car the day he got his driver’s license? No problem.

An all-expenses-paid trip to Cancún for graduation? It’s yours.

The best education money can buy at a first-rate East Coast school? Absolutely.

But no one had handed him his education. He’d worked his tail off to make the dean’s list every semester, to graduate at the top of his class. To make his aunt and uncle proud, even if they didn’t know how to show it. And when he’d asked his uncle to loan him the money to start his company, the entire astronomical sum had been wired to his account within twenty-four hours.

They wouldn’t win any awards for parents of the year, but his aunt and uncle had done the best they could.

He would do better.

There had to be a Ms. Right out there just waiting for him to sweep her off her feet. A woman who wanted the same things he did. And hopefully he would find her before he was too old to play ball with his son, to teach his daughter to Rollerblade.

He stepped into Zoë’s office, trying to remember where in the file cabinet she kept the personnel files. Seeing as how she wasn’t exactly organized, they could be pretty much anywhere.

Despite the disarray, she somehow managed to keep the office running like a finely tuned watch. She’d become indispensable. He would be lost without her.

He started at the top and worked his way down, finding them, of course, in the bottom drawer. He located the file of a new employee, Mark O’Connell, to see if there was some reason why the guy would be missing so much work. Not to mention showing up late. Nick was particular when he hired new employees. He didn’t understand how someone with such impeccable references could be so unpredictable on the job.

He grabbed the file and was about to shut the drawer when he saw the edge of a brown paper bag poking up from the back.

Huh. What could that be? He didn’t remember seeing that the last time he looked in here.

He grabbed the bag and pulled it out. He was about to peek inside, when behind him he heard a gasp.

“What are you doing?”

Nick turned, the pharmacy bag in his hand, and Zoë stood in the office doorway, back from lunch, frozen. If he opened that bag, things were going to get really complicated really fast.

“I found this in the file cabinet,” he said.

When she finally found her voice, she did her best to keep it calm and rational. Freaking out would only make things worse. “I don’t appreciate you going through my things.”

He gave her an annoyed look. “How was I supposed to know it’s yours? It was in the file cabinet with the personnel files. The files I need to have access to, to run my company.”

He was right. She should have kept it in her car, or her purse. Of course, then what excuse would she have had for not using it? She walked toward him and held out a hand. “You’re right, I apologize. Can I have it back please?”

He looked at her, then at the bag. “What is it?”

“Something personal.”

She took another step toward him, hand outstretched, and he took a step back.

A devious grin curled his lips, showing off the dent in his right cheek. “How much is it worth to you?”

He hadn’t teased her in weeks. Now was not the time to start acting like his pain-in-the-behind old self. “That isn’t funny, Nick. Give it to me.”

He held the bag behind his back. “Make me.”

How could a grown man act so damned juvenile? He didn’t have kids, so what, he’d act like one?

She stepped toward him, her temper flaring, and held out her hand. “Please.”

He sidestepped out of her way, around her desk, thoroughly enjoying himself if his goofy grin was any indication.

She felt like punching him.

Couldn’t he see that she was fuming mad? Didn’t he care that he was upsetting her?

Heat climbed up her throat and into her cheeks. “You’re acting like an ass, Nick. Give it back to me now.”