The C.E.O.'s Unplanned Proposal

by Karen Toller Whittenburg

  “I’ve lived a lot of places, so the inflections are a hit-and-miss combination of everywhere and nowhere.”

  “A lot of places,” he repeated, curious at her vagueness. “Give me a rundown.”

  She waved her hand, dismissing the information as of no real importance. “Seattle, San Jose, Topeka, Toledo, Cincinnati, Cheyenne, and that’s only a few. I like to experience the feel of a place, get an idea of what it’s like to live there.” A rueful breath escaped her. “I guess I’m afraid if I stay too long in any one spot, I’ll get bored.”

  He smiled at her obvious exaggeration. He couldn’t imagine she would ever allow herself to be bored. There was just too much energy emanating from inside her. “What about your education? You must have stayed in one spot long enough to acquire a diploma.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve spent a few hours in the ivory halls of higher education, but I always come back to the belief that it’s more important to collect knowledge than a piece of paper. So wherever I find myself, I just take classes that interest me and I volunteer a lot.”

  She consistently managed to surprise him. “What kind of volunteer work?”

  “You name it and I’ve probably done it at one time or another. The past few months, I’ve been doing some clerical work for the literacy program at the Providence Library.”

  “My grandmother was on the library board for years and the Braddock family is a big supporter of the library and the literacy effort.”

  “One of my favorite causes, too.”

  “Witnessed by your weighty passion for books.”

  “I admit it. I’m addicted to books of all shapes and sizes.”

  He was beginning to see how a man might become addicted to her smile. It all but lit up the back of the Rolls. “It’s nice to see someone whose enthusiasm for reading carries over into volunteering for a good cause.”

  “Hmm,” she said, eyeing him with good humor. “Let me guess…you write the check and consider it a work well done.”

  “Wrong,” he said. “I sign the check, after my secretary writes it out.”

  Her laugh was worth his denigrating stab at a joke. “You’re teasing me,” she said.

  “Yes,” he agreed, pleased to know he could. “My grandmother insisted on a tithe of time for all three of her grandsons. By the time I was nine, I was a seasoned volunteer. As a matter of fact…” He didn’t mean to talk at length about the causes he supported with a whole heart, but she kept asking questions and her genuine interest created a reciprocal spark and he kept talking. When Benson stopped the Rolls in a modest suburban neighborhood, Adam realized he’d monopolized the conversation. He’d meant to know more about her at this juncture, had intended to be the one asking all the questions. Now how, he wondered, had she managed to keep the spotlight off herself?

  “Here I am,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at the house. “Benson certainly follows directions well, doesn’t he? Well, good night, Adam. Thanks for a lovely day and—”

  “I’ll see you safely to your door,” Adam said, strangely reluctant for the evening to end.

  “Oh, no need to bother,” she replied airily. “There’s no reason even for you to get out. I can see myself as far as the door, thanks.”

  She seemed to be in an unflattering hurry. “I’m getting out,” he said, brooking no argument. “You’ve seen my house, now I’d like to see yours.” It was either that or he had to say good night, something he was not yet ready to do.

  She sighed, slid across the seat and stepped out, thanking Benson for his courtesy with a smile and insisting that she could carry the bag of books herself. At least, Adam thought, it wasn’t just his help she objected to. He got out on the other side and was waiting when she walked around the rear of the Rolls-Royce. “Please,” he said and took the bag of books from her arms. It was heavy, but he felt lighter just because she allowed him to carry it for her without a protest. Falling into step beside her, he walked up the sidewalk toward a house that seemed moderately upscale. It wasn’t the Hall, of course, or even in the neighborhood, but as houses went, it was neat and nice, although not at all the kind of house he’d imagined Katie would like.

  “It’s not my house,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. “I’m only sitting it while the owners are away.”

  Surprising. “I see,” was the only comment he could think to make.

  “I’m something of a professional housesitter, I guess you could say. That’s one way I’m able to travel so much.”

  “There must be someplace you consider home.”

  “Home is where the heart is, as they say, so I’m pretty much home wherever I am.”

  That was a nifty bit of verbal footwork, but Adam knew there had to be more to her story. Before the birthday party, he decided, he’d discover what it was. “You have an interesting attitude for someone so young, Katie.”

  Her smile dimmed, but didn’t go out. “I haven’t been young since I was six years old.” Stepping ahead of him, she unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Thanks,” she said and he heard the rush of her breath, the sweet anxiety in her voice.

  “You’re welcome,” he answered as he set the books inside. When he straightened to face her, the air was thick with a tension he recognized, an awareness he’d been trying to ignore all day, with little success. “Katie,” he began, not sure what he wanted to say. “I’m glad Ilsa Fairchild gave me your name and number.”

  She bit her lip, brushed restlessly at her mop of dark curls, a gesture born of the awareness and tenderly compelling in its unselfconscious appeal. “Look, Adam, you have to listen to me for a minute. Really listen. I can’t let you leave thinking I’m—”

  Adam seldom acted on impulse, but he bent his head and pressed a very impulsive, claiming kiss to Katie’s parted lips, interrupting her in midsentence and surprising her only slightly less than he’d surprised himself. She recovered more quickly than he did and then, even more surprisingly, returned his kiss with a gratifying enthusiasm. She seemed, in fact, to savor the feel of his lips on hers, the tantalizing brush of her body against his, the undeniable evidence that he found her desirable.

  Her hands flattened slowly against his chest, then moved to his shoulders where her fingers worked a restless massage through the weight of his suit coat. He wanted to take the coat off, but that would mean releasing her, something his arms—now that they had found their way around her—were reluctant to do. His hands slid to her waist and pulled her, pressed her closer to him in an embrace that turned passionate before he even knew that was his body’s intent. When the kiss broke, he realized he could barely breathe and noted with an embarrassingly male satisfaction that she looked as dazed as he felt.

  “Wow.” Her whispered judgment seconded his own and he reached for her again, but she held him off with a firm hand pressed against the buttoned placket of his shirt. “It’s not that I wouldn’t enjoy doing that again, you understand, but one too many of those could dangerously overload my risk quota for today.” She drew in a long, shaky breath. “A good-night kiss was not at all how I expected tonight to end.”

  “Believe it or not, I’m a little surprised, myself.”

  Her lips curved with a wry, self-effacing humor. “Oh, I believe you.”

  “I realize it’s a breach of your strictly-professional policy, but I can’t bring myself to apologize for something I enjoyed so much.”

  She took hold of the doorknob, as if she needed its support. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that strictly professional thing anymore because…because I won’t be planning your grandfather’s party. I’m sorry, but I just can’t do it.” She offered a weak smile. “But, honestly, thanks for today. I’ll remember it with pleasure…even this unexpectedly sweet goodbye.”

  Before Adam could gather his thoughts, she’d slipped inside the house and closed the door behind her, shutting him outside with the seductive taste of her still on his lips and a delayed confusion settling over his brain. He stepped back, frownin
g at the dark house, waiting for a light to go on inside, signaling that she was safely havened within. Or maybe he was waiting for the light of understanding to dawn…because it had certainly sounded as if she’d just told him goodbye.

  Not good-night.

  Goodbye.

  Coupled with her other statements, it could only mean she wasn’t going to work for him and that she didn’t plan to see him again. But that made no sense. She had to be aware—especially after today—that planning an event for his family, or any event connected with the Braddock name, would be advantageous for her business. She had to realize it would be a great experience, look enticing on a résumé, bring in new clients. She had to see it would be a plus any way she looked at it. He’d offered her an opportunity and a generous compensation for her services, so what possible reason could she have for turning him down?

  Was she after more money? He encountered manipulative people all the time, and money was always their bottom line. But Katie hadn’t struck him as either manipulative or greedy. On the contrary, she’d seemed about as unimpressed by him so far as anyone he’d ever met. Plus, she’d sounded genuinely appalled when he’d suggested she wanted more money. Closing the door in his face just now wasn’t exactly a smart negotiating ploy, either. She must know he could walk away and never look back. Why with a single phone call, he could have Nell tracking down every events coordinator in New England. And he could afford to hire every last one of them if he wanted.

  But he didn’t want every events coordinator in New England. He wanted the one he had.

  Maybe he’d misheard her or was reading more into the words than was warranted. People said goodbye all the time without meaning anything final by it. Sometimes, too, people said they couldn’t do something because they wanted to be persuaded that they could. Of course, it was possible she’d been intimidated by all she’d seen and heard today at the Hall, and her refusal was connected in someway to that.

  Or maybe his impulsive kiss was to blame. Not that that made any better sense. Most women would read more into it than they should. That was one of the reasons he was always so careful about who he kissed…and when…and where…and even, how. He didn’t like misunderstandings. So, okay, he hadn’t been careful just now. He hadn’t even been halfway prudent.

  It had been a mistake to kiss her. No two ways about it. But she hadn’t disliked kissing him. He felt it wasn’t conceited to believe, based on the evidence, that she’d enjoyed it, too.

  Benson cleared his throat and Adam realized he was still staring at Katie’s front door like a bewildered suitor. Turning on his heel, he strode back to the car nonchalantly as if women rejected his offers all the time.

  They didn’t, and he couldn’t recall the last time he would have cared. His last affair had been over for three weeks before he remembered to tell Nell to cancel his standing order of Monday morning flowers. Not that this was anything like that. He wasn’t involved with Katie, wasn’t going to get involved with Katie, wasn’t even interested that way. Certainly, he wasn’t going to be sending her any flowers.

  But he’d be damned if he’d let her back out of her commitment like this.

  At least not without giving him an explanation he could understand.

  “EVERYONE’S READY for this to happen,” Lara was saying. “Allen is available to go over the new contract with you whenever you want. I’ve gone over it with him three times and think it’s vastly improved, but I know you’ll want to make some suggestions. Wallace is plenty nervous now. The joke circulating among the team members this morning is that he’s offering to sweeten the deal by throwing in his vacation home in Malibu, if you’ll just agree to meet with him.”

  Adam swivelled his chair away from the panoramic view of the Providence skyline. “What would I want with a house in Malibu?”

  Lara arched her eyebrows. “That’s the joke, Adam.” Her expression turned genuinely curious. “What is going on with you today? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you hadn’t listened to a word I’ve said.”

  “I listened.” But he hadn’t. Not really. His ability to tune out distractions had gone on the fritz and the only words that kept repeating in his ears were Katie’s. Goodbye, she’d said last night. I just can’t do it. Leaning forward, he punched the speaker option on his phone and jabbed in Nell’s intercom number. “Have you reached her yet?” he asked without preamble.

  “No answer,” Nell said apologetically. “No way to leave a message. Do you want me to keep trying?”

  “Yes, and ring through the minute you have her on the line.” He clicked off the speaker and frowned at Lara, who was giving him an odd look. “What?” he asked.

  “Just wondering who she is and how she managed to rain on your parade.” Lara, tall, cool, beautiful, smart and more woman than most men could handle, was, perhaps, the only person who could read Adam accurately. She’d been his assistant for five years and worked even harder than he did. When he’d first hired her, Adam had thought a more intimate relationship was bound to develop between them, given their mutual passion for their work and the long hours they spent together. But the spark had never kindled, much less caught fire. Perhaps because they were two of a kind, and too ambitious to expend the energy needed to conduct an affair. Or maybe they were too selfish to risk the friendship that had grown like a weed and ended up a hardy wildflower.

  Or maybe, as he often suspected, he’d had nothing to do with the decision at all and, from the start, Lara was simply wise enough to avoid that complication. Either way, Adam appreciated her ability to read his mood and intuit his thoughts, even now, when he found it vastly annoying.

  “She’s the events coordinator I hired to put together a party for Grandfather’s birthday.” He tapped the heavy pen in his hand against a pile of papers on his desk. “And she told me last night she can’t do it.”

  “Because…?”

  “She didn’t give a reason, just she can’t do it.”

  “Idiot,” was Lara’s succinct reply.

  He smiled. “I don’t think so.”

  “She wants more money, then.” Lara’s thoughts, as usual, tracked his own.

  “She says no.”

  “And you believe her?”

  He did. Unbelievably this morning, he still did. “Yes.”

  “Offer her more, anyway.”

  He’d thought of that, too. “I don’t believe it will make any difference.”

  “Money always makes a difference.”

  “I think she’ll still refuse.”

  Lara shrugged. “So get someone else.”

  It was, of course, the obvious thing to do. “She came highly recommended.”

  “All of them do. You want me to call down to PR and get Kelly to put together some ideas for you to look at? She’s done a great job with the last two company functions.”

  “You know how I feel about using employees for family matters.”

  “Okay, I’ll find someone outside the office.”

  “Grandfather seemed very taken with Katie.”

  She leveled a narrowed gaze at him. “He’s lonely, Adam. And I’m sure she’s pretty.”

  “He is, and she is, but I hardly think either condition is relevant. It isn’t as if he’s looking for romance at his age.”

  “Don’t be naive, Adam. He’s a man, and even at his age, believe me, he’s looking.”

  Lara was wrong. Adam had grown up in the shelter of his grandparents’ devotion to each other. He knew there could never be another woman in Archer’s life. He also knew Lara’s own family had given her no reason to believe love could last a lifetime or grow deep, and strong, and solid through the years. He dismissed her concern, and other options, with a shake of his head. “Sooner or later, Katie is bound to answer her phone.”

  Lara pursed her lips and moved on. “All right, then. Obviously, you don’t need my input on events coordinators. So what do you want me to tell Wallace’s people?”

  Adam didn’t much care, which was an
indication of just how bothered he was by Katie’s inexplicable behavior. She couldn’t not want to do this party. His grandfather had been on the phone to him twice already wanting to congratulate him on his choice and to ask when Katie would return to the Hall. Archer’s enthusiasm was reason enough to keep ringing her number. “Friday,” he said, making the decision. “I’ll meet with Wallace Friday.”

  “Friday,” Lara repeated. “Wouldn’t Monday be better? Peter’s coming in from Atlanta on Friday and—”

  “Monday, then,” Adam snapped, agitated for no good reason. “I don’t know why you ask me when you already have the timing worked out in your head.”

  “It won’t do our side any harm for Wallace to cool his heels over the weekend. Especially after the way he screwed with us last week.”

  “Has anyone ever accused you of being softhearted?”

  Her smile was self-confident and sure. “Not more than once.” Rising, she picked up the report they’d just gone over and tucked it efficiently in the crook of her arm. “Shall I send Allen in now?”

  Before he could answer, the intercom buzzed. “Nell,” he said, pressing the button to turn on the speaker phone. “Did you reach her?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Braddock, no. I’m still trying. But your brother is on line one. I thought you might want to take his call.”

  “Which brother?”

  “Mr. Bryce, sir.”

  Adam pressed the key to take the call. “I thought you were sailing with Holden,” he said, apropos of nothing except he was angry that Bryce was on the line and Katie wasn’t.

  “We pulled into Locke’s harbor at the Vineyard to stay tonight. Holden’s mechanic persuaded him to get some new experimental winch installed and of course, it doesn’t work, so we’re here letting tempers cool. Hello, Lara.”

  “Hello, Bryce. How astute of you to know I was here.”

  “You’re always in my brother’s office,” he said in a voice that tormented just by its smooth delivery. “Eavesdropping on my phone calls to him is the only light in your dreary life.”