CHAPTER TWO
Pen was almost to the office door by the time Fern had picked up her dropped keys and gathered her scattered wits. She locked the car and hurried to catch up with him. She wasn't about to let him inside the office without her. No telling what he would say or do.
"What's this about a new sign?" she asked as she reached his side.
"Corporate wants everything converted from Fern's Fancies to Ultimate Plant Service by the end of next week. The sign should already have been delivered, and new letterhead, forms, and envelopes should be here in the next couple of days."
He reached in front of her to open the door. She bit her lower lip. As much as she wanted to continue the conversation, she wouldn't let her employees find out she didn't know any more about what was happening than they did.
When they entered the small reception area, Fern glanced sideways to see if Pen was admiring the awards on the wall. He ignored all those symbols of her accomplishments and smiled at the receptionist.
"You must be Mr. Morgenthal. I'm Maria," the petite brunette at the front desk said. She stood, took a step closer, and held out her hand. "Mr. Morgenthal, we're so pleased to have you here at Fern's Fancies."
He took her hand in a firm handshake and said, "My pleasure, Maria. Please, call me, Pen-we'll be working closely together. We'll visit more later. Now, Fern is going to introduce me to the rest of the staff."
Fern barely managed to keep her sarcastic response to herself. Of course, Fern's been waiting all day for that rare privilege, she fumed. She hoped the insincere smile she plastered on her face didn't look as fake as the plastic plants she hated.
"Well, there aren't many here right now. The technicians are out maintaining plants." She looked at Maria. "Have Toby and Lee come back in from their afternoon run?"
"They-"
"If they were in the company truck, they're back," Pen interrupted. "The truck is parked at the warehouse door."
And if she'd been paying attention instead of falling apart about getting rid of that awful name, she'd have realized that. She had parked the car just fifty feet from the truck.
She ignored Pen's comment and said, "We'll stop in the clerical office on the way to the warehouse."
The next office was separated into two small work stations. Each desk held a computer terminal, and several printers lined the table between the desks.
Fern introduced the two women sitting at the desks. "Pen, this is Hannah, our bookkeeper." She nodded toward a small woman with gray hair and a lined face. "And this is Jean, our data entry clerk." She indicated the young blonde with cheerleader looks and bounce.
Pen shook hands with each of them. "Hi. I'm looking forward to working with you ladies. I've seen your work from reports sent to corporate."
"Welcome, Mr. Morgenthal."
"Nice to meet you, sir."
Even though Hannah was probably thirty years Pen's senior, he said, "None of this Mr. or sir stuff. You don't want to make me feel old, do you?"
Jean giggled. "No, sir, I mean, no. We just want to make you feel important. I mean, we know you are important, and we're just trying to show respect. I mean . . ." Jean's face glowed red as she stammered an explanation.
Pen threw his head back and laughed. Fern felt his laughter resound through her whole body. Incredible eyes, fantastic voice, and now a contagious laugh. Omigosh, she had a feeling this guy was going to be big trouble in more ways than one.
"I appreciate your respect, Jean. You don't need to try to make me feel important." He winked. "Just between you and me, my mother tells me I think way too much of myself already. So don't contribute to my conceit, okay?"
"If you want to meet Toby and Lee before they go into overtime, we'd better move on to the warehouse." The words sounded harsher than Fern intended, but he should appreciate her concern for Ultimate's payroll.
He raised his hand to his forehead and gave a jaunty salute as he left the room. "Onward and upward."
Fern looked around the warehouse, relieved to see that it was in reasonable order. Since they usually didn't have visitors, cleanup sometimes ranked low on the priority list. At least all the leaves and debris had been swept up and the tools and supplies had been put away.
Toby and Lee were closing one of the large overhead doors. After they locked it, they stepped forward to greet the two managers. Pen introduced himself and asked them how long they had been back in the warehouse.
"Just a few minutes-we were out most of the afternoon," Toby answered.
"I was wondering if the new sign had been delivered. It should have been installed this afternoon."
Toby shrugged. "Nope. No sign here."
"Okay, guys, thanks. I'll be seeing more of you in the next couple of weeks."
He was walking back toward the front office. Fern, wondering why she had even come with him to the warehouse, asked, "Well, now that I've introduced you to everyone, what's next?" She bit her lip again. At this rate, she was going to have a lower lip full of teeth marks, and it wasn't doing anything to stop her sarcastic comments.
"Let's find out from Maria if she's heard anything about the sign." He stopped and turned to look at her. Look at her? His gaze raked her body from head to toe. "Then you and I can find a nice, quiet place for a working dinner."
"Dinner? I'm afraid I've already made plans for dinner." She thought of Kevin, her next-door neighbor who was trying to become a much closer acquaintance. Today was Tuesday, so he was grilling hamburgers in the backyard of their duplex.
"Sorry. You'll just have to unmake them. Change your hot date to another night."
"Huh?"
"You said you've made plans for dinner. I'm afraid you'll have to unmake them."
Unmake her plans? Not hardly. "Maybe I have to get home to a house full of kids."
"Fern, Fern, Fern." His head moved from side to side. "I'm your boss, remember? I've read your personnel file. You're single-never been married-no children. Maybe you've just got a hot date you don't want to cancel."
She held her left arm in front of his face and pointed to her wristwatch. "See that. It's almost five o'clock-quitting time. I'll be on my own time in a few minutes."
"Fern, Fern, Fern." Pen shook his head and took her hand to lead her inside the office. "You are a branch manager, which makes you a corporate executive. Don't you know that executives aren't bound by such things as time clocks and overtime? You're on salary. Unfortunately for you, your workday will not end at five o'clock today. It might end at seven, or maybe ten, or who knows?"
Another bite to the lower lip. She'd probably be bleeding any minute now. "Isn't it reasonable for me to expect some advance notice for working late? In case you've forgotten, I've run this company for ten years. I've done more than my share of working late-sometimes I've worked sixty or seventy hours a week." She could hear her voice rise and her words speed up, but she couldn't seem to help herself. "But I don't think it's reasonable to expect me to work late without notice." She pulled away, but he didn't release her hand.
"You had notice."
"Notice? You tell me at five o'clock I'm going to work late. What kind of notice is that?"
"Fern, Fern, Fern. You must have read your e-mail-you were at the airport to pick me up. Don't you recall that my memo instructed you to be ready to meet with me at any time during my visit?"
"I didn't know it meant after business hours."
"Well, now you know. Come on, we need to see Maria before she leaves." Still holding her hand, he pulled her forward into the office.
He asked Maria about the sign.
"Oh, Pen, I forgot to tell you. The sign company called and said they were delayed on another installation today. They should be here tomorrow."
"Thanks, Maria. Good night. See you tomorrow."
"Sure thing. Good night, Fern," Maria called over her shoulder on her way out the door.
"Where's your office?" Pen asked.
She showed him the large office between the reception area and th
e clerical office. At least, she had always considered it a large office. Suddenly, it shrank when filled with more than six feet of pure muscle and masculine beauty.
Pen looked around the room. His forehead wrinkled. "We have to add another desk for me. We can move your desk this way," he motioned with his arm, "and put mine over here. That small file will fit right here between the desks. It'll be crowded, but we can make it work."
"Wait a minute. You can use my desk for the two weeks or so you're going to be here. Why do we need to add another desk?"
He ignored her question. "Where do you want to eat?"
"May I make a phone call first?"
"Of course. You can make as many phone calls as you want."
"I'll use Maria's phone so you can look around on your own." She started backing out of the room.
"No need for that. I've seen all I want to see. Go ahead and make your call right here." He grinned the cocky grin that seemed to turn her insides to jelly, like that nasty polymer she added to soil to hold moisture for plants. He added, "I won't listen."
She handed him the car keys. "Why don't you go on to the car? I won't be a minute."
"Go ahead and make your call. I'll wait for you right here."
He probably wanted to be sure she didn't tell anyone what she thought about him. She'd formed a strong dislike of him just from reading his memo, and it had only intensified since she'd met him. Yeah, sure, she told herself, that's why I feel like an adolescent with her first crush.
She sat at the desk with her back to Pen as she dialed the phone. Kevin answered on the first ring.
"Kev, it's Fern." She knew Pen was listening. "Look, I'm sorry, but I have to work late tonight. I won't be able to make dinner."
As she knew he would, Kevin offered either to cook later or to bring dinner to her at the office.
"I won't be at the office, and I'll be home way too late for dinner."
When he reminded her that she had to eat sometime, she admitted, "I'm having a working dinner with my new boss."
Kevin said, "I thought you were still the branch manager even after selling your business to that giant corporation. Who's this boss?"
Who, indeed? She could hardly tell Kevin anything with Mr. Bossman himself sitting right there. "I'll explain it all later, Kevin. I'm really sorry. I was looking forward to it."
Kevin said, "I'll watch for you and go over to your place when you get home."
"No, don't wait up for me. It might be very late. And you have to get up so early. I'll explain everything tomorrow, I promise."
Although Kevin let her know he wasn't happy about the change of plans or her lack of explanation, she finally managed to say goodbye and hang up the phone.
"Lover Boy unhappy you're working late? I heard you tell him not to wait up for you. Of course, you can always wake him up when you get in."
Fern whirled around to face him. She took a deep breath and silently counted to ten before she said, "I thought you weren't going to listen."
"I didn't intend to. But your voice, well ?"
Her voice, yeah, her voice, Pen thought. That voice would be the death of him. It was bad enough listening to her talk about business. In the low, husky voice of hers, even an accounting of which buildings were company clients sounded like an invitation to a private-very private-party. But when she was talking to the boyfriend, now that really shot his blood pressure through the ceiling.
The boyfriend? He was more than a casual boyfriend, obviously. She'd told him not to wait up for her. Stop! She was his subordinate, and he had no business thinking about her gorgeous looks, her sultry voice, or her personal life.
And he was continuing the torture by ordering her to have dinner with him. He should take company records back to the hotel and spend the evening studying them. He always spent the first few days of an inspection familiarizing himself with the history of the branch. He usually reviewed the books first. Then he met with the branch manager. He could compare what she told him with what he'd learned from the records.
So why had he changed his routine with Fern's Fancies? Fern's Fancies-an awful name. Sure, it was kinda cute and had probably worked well for her. But now this company was a branch of the best and the largest plantscape company in the nation. The industry had matured, and cutesy was out. Yeah, it was time to have a respectable, professional name. Ultimate Plant Service was much more businesslike than Fern's Fancies.
"My voice what?" Fern demanded.
He'd been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he'd forgotten she was standing there glaring at him. "Never mind. Let's go. Why don't we eat in the hotel restaurant? That would probably be the most convenient."
Why did he say that? He knew better than to meet a female employee in a hotel, even in the restaurant. It sounded like he wanted to take her back to his room . As appealing as Fancy Fern was, she was his subordinate, and, therefore, off limits for romance.
"No, thank you, sir, Mr. Morgenthal, sir. If we're having a working dinner, we can choose a restaurant between here and the hotel. Better yet, we can work right here. If you're hungry, we can have pizza or Chinese delivered."
He thought she looked adorable as indignation flashed in her eyes. Hazel was such a feeble description for the color of her eyes. They were greener now-earlier they'd been almost brown. Years of practice at the negotiating table enabled him to hide the smile that insisted on springing to his lips. Something about this feisty woman trying so hard to be respectful seemed to have an uplifting effect on his lips. He'd smiled more that afternoon than he could ever remember doing.
"No pizza or Chinese, please. I don't cook, so when I'm home, I seem to live on the stuff."
"No wife or girlfriend to cook for you?"
"Nope. I'm single and live alone. I've heard San Antonio is famous for its Mexican food. Is there a good Mexican restaurant nearby?"
"El Mas Mejor is the best," Fern said. Then she chuckled. "You obviously don't know any Spanish. 'El mas mejor' means the best, and it is the best."
Pen laughed along with her. "El Mas Mejor it is then."
They locked up the office and got in the car, Pen still lugging the ubiquitous briefcase with the laptop computer. She drove the few blocks to the restaurant and parked. It came as no surprise that he carried the briefcase into the restaurant.
"Is that thing a prop or do you really use it?" she asked after they were seated with the computer stashed under Pen's chair.
"Believe me, I use it. When we're at the office, I'll use one of the terminals there. But in the hotel, on the plane, or meetings like this, it gets a workout."
Fern closed her menu without looking at it. Pen looked at it and shook his head. "How can anybody decide? I don't even know what half this stuff is. What are you having?"
"The #1 special there on the left side of the menu. I always get it because it has a little bit of everything."
He closed his menu. "I'll take your advice, but you'll have to tell me what's what."
"Haven't you ever had Mexican food before?"
"Nothing except fast food tacos or frozen dinners."
"Then you've never had Mexican food."
The waiter brought their iced tea and took their order. They chatted about the weather and the attractions of San Antonio and Chicago.
When the appetizers arrived, Fern said, "These are nachos, and the little green things aren't olives or pickles-they're jalapeno peppers. They're hot. Do you like hot stuff?"
A loaded question, if there ever was one. She was about the hottest stuff he'd ever seen. He was hot enough just sitting across the table from her, never mind the jalapenos. Maybe a jalapeno pepper would cool him down. He reached over to pick up the cheese-covered chip topped with the largest slice of pepper. He raised it to his lips and took a bite.
He instantly dropped the nacho and jumped out of his chair. He grabbed his water glass and swallowed several huge gulps of water. He raised his napkin to his face, wiped the sweat forming on his brow, and fanne
d himself with the napkin. It wasn't until he saw Fern staring that he realized that, while the pepper may have set fire to his mouth, it had done nothing to cool his passion.
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