by Day Leclaire
“Damn,” she muttered, blistering her tongue on the expletive.
Reed maneuvered his shoulders through the narrow opening. Several contortions later, he managed to squeeze into the room after her. “Now, now, Ms. Makepeace. Is that any way for an angel to talk?”
Joel peered through the doorway and grinned. “Neat, isn’t it?”
“That depends. What is it?”
“Materials for the Wellsby model.”
Angie shook her head. “No. No, it can’t be. A model is little.” She turned to face them, holding up her hands to show them “little.” “A model fits on top of a table. The parts fit in a box. One box. One small box.”
“This model will be a little bigger than that,” Joel announced proudly. “I’m gonna build it so everything works, just like the real thing. I was thinking we could display it in the front reception area.”
“My meeting is now in forty minutes,” Reed announced. “I suggest you start getting this stuff out of here, Ms. Makepeace.”
She stared at him wide-eyed. “Where am I supposed to put it?”
“This was your brilliant idea. You figure it out.”
Words failed her. She could only stand, swaying on top of her three-inch spikes.
Reed clamped his jaw together and turned away. “You might start with the stuff stacked behind the door,” he suggested in a muffled voice. “Once that’s shifted, you can open the door wide enough to haul everything out of here. Let’s make tracks, Ms. Makepeace. You’re down to thirty-eight minutes.”
Joel snorted. “She can’t get all this stuff moved in that amount of time. It’ll take her at least four or five hours.”
Her eyes rounded. “I—You—He—”
“What’s that, Ms. Makepeace? Speak up.”
“Aw, quit teasing her, Reed,” Joel said. “You can have your meeting in the conference room and you know it. If you want the supplies moved, tell me where to put ’em and I’ll go round up some help.”
“Stick them in the apartment for now.” Reed fixed his brother with a pointed look. “After that, I’ll have Tiger discuss your ordering methods with you.”
Joel made a face. “Well, jeez,” he muttered. “I thought enthusiasm was a good thing.”
“Sure it is. The only problem is, you bypassed enthusiasm several steps back and jumped straight to ‘gone off the deep end.’ Call down to maintenance and arrange for some help. You can move this stuff after lunch.”
A cunning gleam appeared in Joel’s eyes. “And after work you’ll help me start putting it together?”
“As soon as you have a blueprint drawn to scale. Now go on. Get out of here.” The minute Joel disappeared, Reed turned to Angie. “Red again?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re wearing red again. An interesting choice for an angel.”
“Oh, that.” She shifted a carton of screws off the chair in front of his desk and took a seat. “For some reason they don’t use the color much in heaven. So I wear it whenever I get the chance.” She dug through her purse for her steno pad and glasses. “Now. Is there anything you want me to do before your meeting?”
“I think we’d better talk about last night.”
She snuck a quick peek at Scratch. “No, we’d better not. Instead, we should make up for the hours we’ll lose getting Joel’s project out of your office. I’ve typed all those letters you dictated yesterday and printed them. But I’ll need your signature before I can mail—”
“Is it because I’m your boss? Is that why you won’t sleep with me?”
She cringed, shooting another look in Scratch’s direction.
Da—Dang! For the first time since their mission started, he was paying attention. A hint of color crept into her cheeks. Good grief! She hadn’t been guilty of blushing since she was fourteen and got caught French kissing Hugh Dailey behind the chemistry lab.
Scowling, she adjusted her glasses and fixed her gaze on her latest list. “I’ve confirmed your speaking engagement in Chicago. I believe you said your previous secretary made the hotel reservations, but if you want me to double check, I’ll be happy to take care of it.”
“Do I have to remind you about rule number one?”
She grimaced. “I have to admit that your rules do cause a lot of trouble. Especially rule number one.”
“Don’t worry. After your trial period they won’t trouble you at all. Perhaps your next employer won’t be so difficult.”
Her pen hovered over her notepad and she studied him pensively. “Reed... I didn’t turn you down because you’re my boss. I realize that if I’d said no and meant it, you’d have kept our relationship strictly business.”
“But you didn’t mean it.”
Honesty forced her to agree. “No, I didn’t. I’m attracted to you. I admit it. That’s not why I’m here, though. My job is to find you a wife.”
A hint of fire flashed within his hazel eyes. “Your job is to perform secretarial duties, not marry me off.”
“The list said—”
“To hell with the list! Do I look like the sort of man who’d ask my secretary to find me a woman?” His tone grated, the words sounding raw and tight.
“Not really. You look...frustrated.”
“How observant. You’re right. I am frustrated. Would you care to guess why?”
She sighed. “I have a funny feeling it has something to do with me.”
“Right again. It has everything to do with you. I don’t care what that list said, I do not want you finding me love—true or otherwise. Stay out of my personal life unless you intend to follow through on last night.”
She snapped her steno pad closed and whipped off her glasses. “What you don’t seem to understand is that I don’t have any choice, either. I can’t follow through on last night. And I have to find you true love. It’s my mission.”
He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. When he looked at her again, she couldn’t mistake the determination that burned in his gaze. “You do have a choice, Angie. And it’s a very simple one. Either you drop this nonsense about being an angel sent to marry me off or you find a new job.”
“Please don’t do this.”
“Which is it going to be?” He lifted an eyebrow. “You’ve claimed you don’t lie. So tell me... Will you promise to forget about this other nonsense and focus on your secretarial duties?”
“Please, Reed. I can promise almost anything else. But I can’t promise that. I’ve been sent—”
“Enough!” He thrust back his chair and stood. “Enough, Angie. It’s a cute story. Very amusing. Almost as amusing as a deaf dalmatian and wearing red all the time. Unfortunately, I have a business to run. And I can’t do that when you’re allowing Joel to run wild or when my office is overflowing with building supplies or when my secretary is more interested in arranging my love life than my business appointments.”
“I can handle it all.”
“Maybe you can, but I can’t.” He massaged the nape of his neck. “Choose, Ms. Makepeace. The job—with the condition that you’ll never mention this angel business or love or marriage again—or we bid each other a fond farewell.”
She moistened her lips. “You don’t understand. You’re my last chance.”
“You don’t have to leave,” he urged. “Just promise me—”
“I can’t,” she whispered. “It would be a lie.”
His face hardened. “I see. In that case I have no alternative. It’s been...interesting working with you.”
Angie stood. “Reed, please reconsider.”
“I’m sorry. You’re fired, Ms. Makepeace. I’ll have accounting draft you a severance check.”
“Don’t bother.” She managed a smile, though she suspected it looked as wobbly as her knees felt. “Angels don’t need money.”
And with that she snagged her purse and left, a disapproving dalmatian trotting at her heels.
CHAPTER SIX
“ANGIE MAKEPEACE. Please report to your supervisor. Angie Mak
epeace to Supervisor Goodenkind.”
She heard the whispers start the moment she stepped onto the gilded path. Lifting her chin, she kept walking. Some things never changed, it would seem. It shouldn’t surprise her. And yet, it did. No matter what happened, no matter how bad her situation became, no matter how many missions she failed, she couldn’t quite kill the tiny spark of hope that burned deep in her heart—the hope for a better tomorrow.
If she ever lost that, she’d probably lose her soul. Because she didn’t think she could continue without hope to keep her going. Her jaw clenched. Unfortunately, a better tomorrow never came—at least not for her—and it had become increasingly difficult to sustain a dream that might not exist.
Goodenkind wasn’t alone, Angie noticed the minute she stepped into his office. Scratch sat there, too—a a smug expression on his otherwise angelic face. No doubt he’d already given his own version of events. She greeted her supervisor with a plucky grin. “Hello, Good. Miss me?”
“It’s been amazingly quiet without you, Ms. Makepeace.”
“I’ll see what I can do about that.”
He regarded her with a stern countenance. “Assuming you remain, that is, which is highly questionable at this point. Have a seat, Angie.”
That didn’t sound too good. Nevertheless, she rallied with a brilliant smile and sat down. “I admit, lucky thirteen didn’t turn out to be too lucky.” She shot the pesky dalmatian a look of undisguised irritation. “But I guess you already heard about that.”
The dog bared his teeth.
“I received Scratch’s report, yes.” Goodenkind steepled his hands, as he fixed her with an unwavering stare. “Would you care to give me your version of events?”
If she’d been a kid, she’d be squirming in her chair. As it was, she couldn’t quite sit still. She fluttered her feathers for a bit and adjusted her halo to a jauntier angle. “I’m not sure what more I can add.” At the blatant evasion, a teeny spot of soot appeared on her spotless white robes and she hastily tucked the telltale blemish from sight. “Mr. Harding isn’t interested in my finding him a wife. When push came to shove, he fired me.”
“I believe you’re leaving out a few details—details of a more personal nature.”
For the second time, a burning heat scalded her cheeks. Who would have thought angels could blush? Especially an angel like her. She’d have sworn it was impossible. And yet, here she sat, her cheeks as red as the dresses she favored. “Oh, that.”
“Yes, that. You kissed the man. You were tempted to make love to him.”
“I resisted!”
“True. That fact, and that fact alone, has earned you a temporary reprieve.”
She moistened her lips. “I’m not...not going to be put out?” Was that tiny, aching voice really hers? It must have been, because a wealth of compassion dawned in Goodenkind’s eyes.
“No, my dear. You’re not. You haven’t finished your mission.”
“But, I thought—”
“You’ll have to return and convince Mr. Harding he’s in serious need of your secretarial services again. And then you’ll have one final chance to complete your assignment.”
“You don’t understand—”
For the first time since she’d met him, he looked as though the wisdom of the ages hung heavily upon his shoulders. “I understand far more than you think.” He spoke so gently, tears pricked her eyes.
“He fired me.”
Goodenkind shrugged. “You’ll have to convince him to rehire you.”
She tried again. “He’s forbidden me to discuss finding him a wife.”
“Then don’t discuss it. Simply find him one.”
“Just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I’m supposed to chose some woman out of thin air and convince him to marry her.”
“I’m afraid it won’t be that simple.”
She shot to her feet. “No sh—Shoot! No... No... No joke it won’t be that easy. I don’t suppose you have any suggestions?”
“Certainly.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” she muttered.
“I suggest you listen to your heart and to your conscience. And I suggest you stop kissing the man.”
“Great advice, Good.”
“I thought so.” A glimmer of a smile touched his mouth, despite her sarcasm. “I’ll also give you a gift that may aid your quest.”
Considering he thought listening to her heart and conscience had been a helpful suggestion, she didn’t hold out too much hope that his gift would be of much more use. She sighed in resignation. “What is it?”
“You may grant him his heart’s desire. Only one, mind. A wish he wants more than anything else on earth.”
She brightened. “Wait a sec... You mean, if I get him to wish for a wife, that’ll fulfill my mission?”
“If it’s his true heart’s desire, yes. Your mission will be completed.”
“And...and I’ll get to stay in heaven?”
“Yes, my dear,” he replied kindly. “You’ll remain in heaven.”
Gathering the shreds of her dignity, she inclined her head. “Then, I’d better get going.”
“One last thing, Ms. Makepeace.”
Of course. There was always one last thing. She sighed. “Yes?”
Goodenkind smiled. “Don’t forget to take Scratch with you.”
Reed glared at Tiger. “What do you mean they’ve changed the plans again?”
“Here, you look.” The foreman shoved a roll of blueprints at Reed. “They’ve switched around that damned east wing for the third time this week. How are we supposed to build the thing when they keep changing the structure on us every other day?”
Reed unrolled the pale blue paper, frowning over the alterations Tiger indicated. “This is what I get for using someone else’s designs. If it were an in-house job—”
“The owners would still be changing the structure every other day.”
“Maybe. But I’d have an accurate set of plans.”
Joel peered over his brother’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t complain. At least they got the supports right this time.”
Tiger grinned at Reed. “Not bad. The kid has an eye for detail—”
“Heads up!”
At the hoarse shout, Reed spun around and discovered all hell breaking loose. At the far edge of the site, he caught a splash of red picking a path across the piles of dirt and debris. A loaded dump truck, beeper wailing as it reversed, roared straight for her. There was only one person he knew who dressed in so determined a shade of red and had a prancing dalmatian at her side. Angie had returned, and he didn’t have a hope in hell of reaching her before the dump truck. All he could do was bellow a warning and pray she heard.
“Angie! Look out!”
She paused, the breeze catching in her hair and tossing it in a sunny halo about her head. Then she lifted her hand and waved. Just as she started forward, Scratch leaped playfully upward, his paws landing on her soulders. She staggered slightly beneath the weight, her forward momentum halted for a vital split second. The dump truck plowed across her path inches in front of her. It actually brushed Scratch’s tail.
The three men swore in unison.
The minute the driver saw how close he’d come to hitting her, he turned off the engine, tumbled out of the cab and sank to his knees in the dirt. Angie appeared totally oblivious.
Tiger groaned. “Aw, hell. She’s still coming.”
“The bulldozer, the bulldozer,” Joel chanted, his voice a thin squeak. “It’s gonna get ‘er. Yup. Gonna get ’er.”
Tiger nodded. “She’s a goner.”
Reed thought his heart had stopped. He was still too far to reach her in time. Once again he shouted at her. “Angie! Behind you, honey. Look—”
The bulldozer swung, its mammoth maw filled with dirt. This time Scratch dropped to his belly in the dirt and rubbed his snout on her leather high-heeled shoe. Angie shook her finger at him, then bent and slipped off the shoe, shaking out a pebble
. At the same instant, the dozer’s steel blade sliced the air above her head. Tiger went down as though he’d been the one struck. The driver did a double take, turned a pale shade of green and folded like wet cardboard over the steering sticks.
“I can’t look,” Joel said with a moan, covering his eyes with shaking hands.
Reed struggled to speak. Somehow, his tongue had become three sizes too large for his mouth, making it almost impossible to form the words. “She made it. The dozer missed her.”
“Not the dozer. The cement truck. Can’t look. Nope. Can’t do it.”
“Wh—” And then he saw it, too. A cement truck barreling along at a speed the driver had no business going. “Dammit, Angie! Run!”
She lifted a hand to her ear. “What?”
A smile flashed across her face and Reed fought the eerie feeling it would be the last image he’d have of her alive. “Run, dammit!” Oh, please. Don’t let those be the last thing I say to her, he prayed silently.
At the last possible instant, the driver saw her. He hit his brakes and jerked the wheel to one side, but it was far, far too late. A horrible screech rent the air. Angie glanced over her shoulder, and in a move far quicker than his eye could follow, she danced to one side. The massive truck slid past sideways, one dirt-encrusted wheel actually brushing her bright red skirt. The breeze it generated tossed her hair into disarray and lifted the hem of her dress to reveal a stunning pair of legs and a mind-blowing glimpse of a lacy black garter.
With a muffled groan, Joel toppled over next to Tiger.
Silence reigned. The few workman remaining on their feet looked from Reed to Angie. Reed didn’t wait. He set off at a flat run to intercept her before she could injure any more of his men.
She greeted him with a sunny smile. “Good morning.”