One Night with the Boss

Damn. There was that knowing-him-too-well thing again and this time it was the curse part. Create a diversion. “What makes you think that?”

“This is me. The innocent act doesn’t work. You’re up to something.” She made a sudden move and sidestepped him.

She wasn’t really that quick; he was simply that slow. It’s what happened even to smart guys when blood flowed south of the belt. In the split second he’d been getting his breathing under control, Olivia was around the desk and staring at her computer monitor.

“This is my email.” There was outrage in her tone.

“It is.” What else could he say when caught red-handed? “But it’s my computer.”

“An employee has an expectation of privacy.”

Again he needed a distraction. “Is there something in it you don’t want me to see?”

“Of course not. But this is beneath you.”

He should have listened to that annoying voice of his conscience when it said something similar. But it was the bruised and betrayed expression in her blue eyes that was his undoing. He couldn’t stand it when she looked at him that way.

“Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this.”

“How could you?”

“In my defense, I want you to know that this is the first time. And it’s kind of your fault.”

“Oh, that’s a good one. How do you figure?”

“If you hadn’t been so stingy with details about Leonard...”

The glare instantly disappeared, replaced with an expression that was sheepish. Or guilty? “It’s my business.”

“So you said. But I’m concerned about you and what you’re planning to do worries me. Because of my company,” he amended.

“I don’t know whether to be furious or flattered.”

“Probably both.”

“I’d warn you not to do it again, but you are the boss. My files are your files.” She picked up the manila folder on her desk and met his gaze. “So what was weird?”

He realized she could teach him something about diversionary tactics. The question caught him off guard. “What?”

“When I walked in you were talking to yourself. Which, by the way, is the definition of weird,” she said. “But that’s not what you meant. You were referring to my messages. So, what did you find that was weird?”

He shrugged as if to say he’d forgotten whatever it was that had brought those words to mind. “Whatever it was is gone now.”

“Okay. And that’s my cue. I’m gone, too.” She turned and headed for the doorway. “See you in the morning, boss. And from now on I won’t be doing email here.”

“Okay.” He deserved that. “Night, Liv.”

She walked out faster than he’d thought those short but very lovely legs could go, obviously anxious to get away from him. Perversely, he realized that he was very much looking forward to seeing her tomorrow.

It had a lot to do with the fact that there was now a time limit on morning coffee with Olivia. Her warm smile when she asked how he was every day. The fragrance that she brought into the room with her, a chemical reaction created by her perfume interacting with her skin that made him acutely aware of her presence. Knowing why didn’t make it any less potent when it happened.

But it wasn’t going to happen very much longer, and he didn’t like that one bit.

She had every right to be more furious than she’d been and that made him more curious, if possible. Brady glanced at the list of messages on the screen. There were some from her mom, dad and sister. Maggie had sent her a joke and a link to a cooking site. There was spam from shopping sites she’d browsed, but the weird factor hit him again.

“There’s not a single thing from the man you quit your job for, Liv. What’s up with Leonard?”

Chapter Three

At work the next morning, Olivia still couldn’t believe what Brady had done, although they had a nontraditional working relationship and she’d shared messages with him before. And, being a liar herself, she couldn’t afford to be sanctimonious and judgmental. Since she’d arrived an hour ago, the door to his office had been closed, and it was almost never closed. Maybe because she’d caught him in the act, he was sufficiently shamed into backing off.

One could hope. That way all she had to do was work out the remainder of her notice and the unfortunate incident would be behind her. There’d be no reason to speak about Leonard again.

What she had to do was put all her energy into finding her own replacement. Time was getting short and it wasn’t fair to throw some poor, unsuspecting woman into the deep end of Brady’s pool. So to speak.

Then a thought occurred to her. Her boss had found fault with every female candidate he’d met so far. Maybe she should look more closely at male applicants. Olivia threw herself into the search and lost track of time as she browsed internet employment sites and dissected résumés.

When the sound of the opening front door and the subsequent security system chirp drifted to her, she glanced at her clock and realized almost two hours had slipped away. Knowing the visitor was probably Brady’s mother or sister, both of whom had keys, she figured it was time for a break.

A few moments later Maureen O’Keefe appeared in the doorway with her fifteen-month-old granddaughter in her arms. “Hi, Olivia. How are you?”

“Great.” She stood and walked around her desk, smiling at the toddler. “Hello, Miss Danielle. You’re looking very pretty in your pink shirt and denim overalls.”

The baby had dark hair and eyes like her mother and grandmother. But Maureen’s short hair was shot with silver and done in a piecey style with the back flipped up in a saucy shape. She was taller than Olivia and looked trim and attractive in designer jeans, expensive brown leather boots and a trendy camel coat over her thick winter sweater.

“How are you, Maureen?”

“Could be better.”

When the toddler held out her arms, Olivia took her. “Are you okay, baby girl? Why is your nana making that frowny face? You tell her that causes wrinkles.”

“I have a very good reason to risk wrinkles with this face,” the older woman said grimly. “Do you remember Tiffani Guthrie?”

Olivia would never forget the witch who’d dumped Brady when he left college just before finals in his senior year. Instead of supporting him, whatever his reasons might be, Tiffani with an I took up with a guy on his way to the Texas oil fields by way of Vegas, where, rumor had it, they married at the drive-through Elvis chapel.

“Brady’s old girlfriend.”

“Miss Fake Boobs and Big Hair.” Maureen’s voice dripped with loathing. “I was at the Grizzly Bear Diner this morning and heard from Cissy Johnson who was talking to Betty Cordoba who’s a friend of Tiffani’s cousin George. Word is that she’s coming back to Blackwater Lake.”

“No.” Olivia couldn’t believe she’d have the nerve to show her face back here after treating Brady so badly. She hugged the baby close. “Why would she do that?”

“No one is exactly sure. And this is just a guess from piecing together snippets of information,” the other woman confided. “But we think she landed herself in a bad situation with that Texas wildcatter. We’re speculating that she’s coming here to look up her old boyfriend—her wealthy ex-boyfriend—who can get her out of the whole mess. Can you believe the nerve of that woman?”

“Yes.” Olivia had never liked her.

She’d watched Brady and Tiffani together, hating the fact that she’d been born too late for him to notice her. She’d never figured out what Brady saw in the woman. Well, maybe the well-endowed bosom. Pretty face. Gorgeous red hair. But it was her attitude that was so infuriating. She’d had a way of making a person feel small and insignificant. Once she’d told wide-eyed high schooler Olivia not to hold her breath that Brady would ever give her a tumble. It had never occurred to Olivia that the feelings she thought buried inside were actually there on her face for the world to see. After that she’d worked very hard at making her expression neutral.

When the baby grew restless in her arms, Olivia handed her over to her grandmother. “Maybe you’re wrong and she’s not coming here.”