by JoAnn Durgin
“So, tell me about this mysterious boss of yours,” Marta said. “Is he old or young? Nice or cranky? Any weird quirks? Married?” Slicing a piece of warm sourdough bread, Marta popped it in her mouth and offered one to Caty.
Since she’d moved back to Houston, Marta had made it her mission to find a guy for Caty who was as great as Eliot. Not that the he-man, military man was her type, exactly. Caty gravitated more to urban cowboys. Professional men with Texas roots. Men as comfortable in a Stetson and jeans as a business suit.
An image of Caleb Reid popped into her mind as Caty chewed the bread.
Go away.
From the time she’d left Caleb’s office, Caty had tried to push aside thoughts of her handsome boss. What was it about him that seemed to have such a hold on her? Now that she was back in Houston, she should pray she’d meet a nice high school math teacher or college professor. Someone financially stable who loved the Lord, excelled in his job, and had a heart for kids. Yes, that’s what she needed. Someone uncomplicated and…safe.
What am I thinking? For now, she needed to focus on her work, not finding a man to love. She’d never dated simply for the sake of dating. So now here she sat, alone. To the outside world, she was content in her singledom. She was content, but increasingly, she’d become all too aware that time was marching on. In her heart, she longed for the kind of lifetime love shared between her parents. Sam and Lexa. Marta and Eliot. The list could go on, but she refused to feel sorry for herself.
If nothing else, she’d learned that everything happened in God’s time, not Caty’s time. Her mother always told her that when the right man of God’s choosing walked into her life, everything else would fall into place. Dear Mom and her optimism. She loved how she focused on when and not if.
“Caty? You still with me?” Pushing shoulder-length blonde curls away from her cheek, Marta fixed her with those unique lavender eyes.
“Sorry.” She needed to focus. “He’s nice but tough when he needs to be. He’s much younger than I expected, and I think he’s married.” He was also too ruggedly attractive. Too nice, too compassionate, too…everything.
“You think? Does he wear a wedding band?”
“Yes. Call me crazy, but I think there might be trouble in paradise. Something’s not quite right there. I could be completely off-base, and it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. No matter what his situation is, I need to pray for him.”
“You are so adorable.” Marta squeezed a lemon over her iced tea and then took a quick sip. “Of course, you’re right in terms of praying for him. You know, some guys in a position like that—young, wealthy, reclusive—wear a fake wedding band on purpose. Is he good looking?”
Caty distracted herself by cutting another piece of the delicious bread. “I suppose some would call him attractive.” The color in her cheeks must belie that statement, and Marta was usually adept at picking up on her nonverbal cues.
“Say the word, and I’ll ask Eliot to check him out. Find out his status.”
“No, no,” Caty protested, chewing her bread. “I repeat, the man is my boss. That’s an important, four-letter word right there—b-o-s-s. By virtue of that fact alone, he’s completely off-limits in the dating department. His life is as tightly guarded as Fort Knox, but I figure everyone’s entitled to their secrets and privacy.” Although he said he wanted to become more visible. “If he found out Eliot was snooping into his personal life, I can say with a reasonable degree of certainty that he wouldn’t take kindly to it. No question in my mind I’d be fired under those circumstances, and I couldn’t blame him.”
“No problem. We’ll just scratch that idea then. Let me know if you change your mind.”
Caty drew in a quick breath. “Believe it or not, my boss is the cowboy I mentioned. The one I met on the sidewalk outside the office building.” Surely it was all right to mention that much.
“No kidding?” Marta grinned. “You’ve got to love it. At least he’s helpful when he’s out and about on the city streets. That’s a definite plus, right? If I’m not mistaken, you also called the cowboy handsome.”
“All right. Yes, he’s very attractive,” Caty admitted. “He’s also gentlemanly and…authoritative.”
“Do you think he knew who you were when you first met?”
“Not at first, but then he figured it out. At least he believed what I had to tell him. That was my primary concern since I wasn’t sure whether I’d have a job when I walked out of that meeting. He’s ordered a push to get my office done and wants me to report to work on Monday morning.”
“Bravo! That means you impressed him.” Marta lifted her water glass. “Here’s a toast to Catherine Lewis, future CFO!” They gently clinked their glasses together.
Caty spied Eliot approaching their table. “Here comes Mr. Marchand now.”
“Hey, babe.” Eliot leaned down to drop a light kiss on Marta’s waiting lips.
“Hi there, handsome. Glad you could join us.”
“Me, too. Caty, always great to spend time with one of my favorite Lewis family members.”
“That’s diplomatic.” Caty smiled after he came around the table and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Ever think about going into politics?”
“No, thanks. I’ll leave the political ambitions to Josh Grant.”
“Oh? Is this breaking news?” Something was always happening with Sam’s lively TeamWork members. Suave Mr. Grant would make a terrific political candidate. Good looks, wonderful family, law degree from LSU, and solid experience as the primary legal counsel for TeamWork would all work in his favor.
“Perhaps, but I’ll let Sam or Josh tell you.”
“Thanks. You dangle that tidbit and then have the nerve not to tell me?” Caty mock frowned. “I know you must have kept some whopper secrets in your past life, International Man of Mystery.”
“Forgive me, but I’ll never tell.”
After removing his sport coat, Eliot draped it around his chair. Dropping into the seat next to Marta, he moved his arm around her with an air of familiarity that hinted of sweet intimacy. No wonder Marta loved this guy. Hard not to love a man who was all brawn and bravado on the outside but turned to mush around his wife. What more could a woman want?
Eliot’s military experience was with some elite, specialized unit, but that’s all Caty knew. He certainly looked the part—tall, broad-shouldered, muscled. Intelligent and well-spoken, he had a heart for the Lord. Originally from France, if Marta hadn’t told her, she’d never have known except for little inflections that crept into his speech on occasion.
Sam had told her enough to know that Eliot’s expertise had been invaluable for TeamWork. He’d even saved the life of one of the guys, Mitch Jacobsen, in New Orleans during their post-Katrina mission. In the last year, Eliot had retired from active military duty and started a private security company that also offered Christian-based counseling to individuals traumatized by criminal acts such as bank robberies, home invasions, random shootings, even murders.
Caty pushed the bread tray toward him. “Eat some of this so I don’t eat it all. So, how’s business?”
“The world’s still crazy, so business is good,” Eliot said. “Demanding.”
Marta put her hand on Eliot’s arm. “What a sad commentary but your clients are better off having a man like you to help them, that’s for sure. By the way, where’s your friend?”
Caty frowned. “Oh no, don’t tell me this is a setup. I like you two. Please don’t make me revisit that opinion.”
“Relax.” Eliot chuckled. “This is an old acquaintance from Princeton.”
“Exactly how old are we talking?” Marta winked at Caty.
“A few years older than me. He just moved to Houston from Dallas and called me earlier today. Oil man. I figured why not invite him to dinner and welcome him to the area? He seems like a quiet kind of guy, and he’s the one who asked for the private room.” Eliot glanced at his watch. “I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”
Perhaps it was more Eliot’s statement about the man being private that made her wonder. She remained silent while her friends across the table chatted for a few moments.
Taking a drink of water, Caty sputtered into her fist when she looked up and spied Caleb approaching the room.
Chapter 7
Caty’s traitorous pulse took a flying leap. She’d seen Caleb first since Marta and Eliot sat with their backs to the room’s entrance.
Lord, your sense of humor is in overdrive today. She couldn’t very well tell the Almighty to knock it off.
The man was still wearing his tan Stetson, jeans, and brown leather boots. He’d changed into a blue and white striped dress shirt, tucked in as before, and a silver belt buckle peeked out from his trim waist beneath the leather jacket. The man was too handsome for his own good. Or hers.
Still your boss, Caty. Still married. Had the Lord not heard her short but impassioned prayer to remove the inappropriate thoughts about Caleb from her mind?
In spite of her best efforts, Caty found herself staring at him. In place of his earlier scruff, his face was now clean-shaven. That strong jawline was now smooth as a baby’s behind. And would you look at that? He had an appealing cleft in his chin—not too deep but a perfect, small indentation that made him even more attractive if such a thing were possible. Apparently, it was.
A drought of years with only a few decent dates and now…this?
Removing his Stetson, Caleb greeted Marta as Eliot introduced them. Although he kept his gaze carefully trained on Marta, Caty felt sure he’d seen her. How could he not?
“Caleb, I’d like to introduce you to our good friend, Caty Lewis. Caty, this is Caleb Reid.” Based on Marta’s smile, her friend clearly held high hopes for this little get-together. She was thankful she hadn’t mentioned the name A.C. Reid in her conversations with Marta. That old confidentiality clause again.
“Miss Lewis, it’s an honor to share dinner with you tonight.”
Caty wanted to crawl under the table.
He certainly sounded sincere, but what now? Was she supposed to act as though he wasn’t her boss and they’d never met? Straightening in her chair, Caty pasted on a warm, welcoming smile. She’d follow Caleb’s lead and take her cues from him. She’d never pretended to be an actress and wasn’t sure she could pull it off if she tried. Loyalty to Caleb and Belac trumped all, she supposed.
Still, Marta and Eliot were her trusted friends. How could she keep this secret from them? What did it hurt for them to know the truth?
This is too weird. This day would go down as one of the most absurd in her life.
“Likewise, Mr. Reader is it?” She might as well have fun. He might be her boss, but if he expected her to play along, surely he’d understand. Loyalty was one thing, but so was teasing him under the guise of pretense.
He cleared his throat. “It’s Reid.”
“I see. I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your first name.” Oh, she was being bad.
“I prefer to be called by my middle name. It’s Caleb.” Those brown eyes settled on her. “And do you prefer Caty or…”
“You can call me Catherine.” She ignored Marta’s stare.
“Do you mind if I sit beside you, Catherine?”
“Not at all.” She patted the back of the adjacent chair. “Sit a spell. Let’s chat.” She caught the amused glance exchanged between Marta and Eliot.
After hanging his Stetson on the back of another chair, Caleb took his seat. He smelled soap and water clean. That cleft had a life of its own and practically begged her to trace her finger over it.
Not a good idea, Caty. She dropped her hands to her lap. How long had it been since she’d had a date? Too long, obviously. Playacting was one thing, but she didn’t want to act completely out of character. Not that Marta wasn’t already questioning this charade.
She addressed Caleb. “So, tell me. How do you know Eliot?”
“We met at a Princeton recruiting function a number of years ago,” Caleb said. “How about you? How do you know the Marchands, Catherine?” When he stressed her name, Caty repressed the inclination to laugh.
“Marta used to work for my sister-in-law’s catering business, and that’s how we first met. Eliot and Marta are also both volunteers for a Christian missions organization my oldest brother, Sam, heads called TeamWork.” Caty smiled at her friends across the table. “These two surprised me by marrying at the end of one of Sam’s TeamWork missions in Albuquerque. How long has it been now?”
“Eighteen months,” Eliot said.
“Caty’s brother, Sam, officiated at our wedding along with a Native American pastor,” Marta told Caleb. “Eliot and I had known each other a few years through TeamWork, but he was never in one place long enough to date.”
Eliot grinned. “So we got married instead. I finally came to my senses is more like it.”
“The TeamWork office is also downtown.” Caty stopped herself before she said it was five blocks from the Belac headquarters. “Not, um, far from my new office.”
“That’s convenient for you, I imagine. I’ve heard of TeamWork.” That surprised her although Caleb didn’t elaborate.
“I’m sure I’ll be working some of their projects. Of course, my time is limited these days.” Caty made her sigh as dramatic as possible. “My boss is very demanding, and I rarely have time to myself.”
“I thought you said your boss was generous…” Marta clamped her lips closed when Caty shot her a look across the table.
Caleb’s forehead creased. “Faithful employees should be allowed free time. I think that’s vital to keeping them happy and content. Not to mention loyal.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Tell me, do you have an understanding boss, Caleb?”
“Caleb is the boss. Isn’t that right?” Eliot said.
“Yes.” Again, Caleb didn’t elaborate. The man could certainly be tight-lipped when he wanted.
“Good for you.” Twisting in her seat, Caty gave him her full attention. “Tell me, do you find it difficult to keep good employees?”
His lips upturned. “It can be, yes, but it begins with surrounding yourself with solid people and making wise decisions. At least that’s been my experience.”
Caty nodded. “Well, I’m sure you’re the atypical boss. I think most heads of big conglomerates expect everyone else to work as hard as they do. That’s all good and well, but I think they sometimes forget that a person’s overall health is dependent on carving out time for relaxation and fun pursuits. Like you just mentioned. Take you for instance, Mr. Reid.”
“Caleb,” he reminded her.
“Right. Tell me, what things do you do for fun? Skydive? Climb mountains? Collect expensive sports cars? Stamps? Travel to exotic islands? Watch birds?”
The server came to take their orders, and Caty almost laughed at Caleb’s obvious relief. For a man who struck her as unflappable, it seemed she’d managed to fluster him. Good, he deserved it.
As Marta and Eliot discussed their options with the server, Caleb positioned his menu in front of him and leaned close. Opening her menu, Caty followed suit, pretending to study the selections.
“What are you doing?” Caleb’s voice was low and controlled. Caty couldn’t tell if he was more irritated or amused but guessed it was a little of both.
“Playing along. I thought that’s what you wanted me
to do. How am I doing so far?” Caty stopped just short of batting her eyelashes.
“If I didn’t want you at Belac, I’d say you should move to Hollywood. I had no idea you’d be here tonight, and your presence threw me off at first. Then you started in with your whole all bosses are evil routine. In any case, you can expect something extra in your next paycheck.”
“Please don’t offend me.” That came out more of a hiss. “I’m loyal to a fault, and I never take bribes. Maybe you make a habit of lying, but I’m not happy lying to my friends.”
“It’s not a bribe, Caty. I’ll make sure Eliot knows tonight. Promise.”
“Thank you.” Lowering her menu, Caty pointed to the first entrée without looking at it in giving her order to the server. As long as it wasn’t seafood that crawled around on her plate, she’d be okay.
Beside her, Caleb nudged her arm. “You’re a fan of liver?”
Caty blanched. “Please don’t tell me that’s what I ordered. Why would a restaurant even have liver on its menu?”
“Some people like it. Not me, but some do. And I think I make you nervous.” Caleb smoothed his napkin on his lap.
Did the man have to be so maddeningly perceptive? “Don’t flatter yourself, and liver is an equal opportunity meat. Or whatever it is. I’m surprised you’re hungry since you had your Chinese meal break so late this afternoon.”
“The food wasn’t for me,” he said, his voice so low she almost didn’t hear. “Cordelia worked through lunch. I had another errand to run and offered to pick up something for her.”
“How considerate. I understand she’s worked with you since you were a baby mogul. Cordelia was extremely helpful to me, and I can see how loyal she is to you. You’re blessed.”
“Yes, I am.”
“If you two can take a break before our salads arrive, I’d like to say a prayer.” When Eliot bowed his head to ask the blessing, Caleb rested his left hand on the table, palm up.
Placing her hand lightly in his, Caty tried to ignore the sensations racing through her.
He’s your boss. Your married boss. This needed to stop. Lord, forgive me.