by Nancy Bush
“…I’m still in the process of moving to Seattle, so I won’t be in the office on a regular schedule yet. Mr. Jacobson has suggested that Sam Wright be the liaison between myself and all of you until I’m permanently settled,” Nick finished.
Don glanced toward Sam, a man in his fifties who’d worked for Jacobson & Kern for nearly thirty years. Nick couldn’t see his expression.
“If you have any questions,” he continued. “Now’s the time to ask.”
Kern spoke up. “I might suggest you tell them about John Marsden now, Mr. Shard.”
Rory stiffened and Tisdale nearly came unglued. He jerked in his seat as if stuck by a cattle prod. Damn, Nick thought. He would have liked to ease into this powder keg slowly. On the other hand, there was no reason to delay the inevitable.
“John Marsden is a personal friend of mine,” Nick explained. “I’ve known him most of my life. He and my father were close friends. He moved the bulk of his investment portfolio to my firm almost as soon as I started business. I know Jacobson & Kern did some work for him in the past. Now, I’m happy to say we’ll be handling one hundred percent of his investment capital.”
The room broke into sounds of surprise. Don went white. Rory sat stiff in her chair. Nick hadn’t told her yet that she’d be handling all of Marsden’s account. He hadn’t had the chance. At this point he couldn’t tell how she felt about it, but he had complete faith in her ability. She made cautious, sound investment decisions—just the kind Marsden liked.
“Who will be handling the Marsden account?” Sam asked.
“Rory Camden.”
More excited chatter filled the air. Rory stared over the top of Don Tisdale’s head, ostensibly at the piece of art—a still life oil of a ewer surrounded by green pears and clumps of grapes mounted on the opposite wall—that was first on Nick’s list of items set for removal.
“The entire account?” Sam questioned, trying hard not to sound as if he thought Nick was out of his mind.
“I’ll be working with her,” Nick said. “We’ll sort of play it as it goes.”
The glare Tisdale leveled at Rory was so intense Nick was sure he could produce a nuclear meltdown. He eyed the man dispassionately. Was there something going on between him and Rory? God, he hoped not. But if there was, he’d certainly thrown a spanner in the works by giving Rory the Marsden account. Tisdale looked sick with worry, nearly apoplectic with rage. And he didn’t strike Nick as the forgiving, understanding type, either. There was no way he and Rory could be an item. No way. Their personalities were just too different. And yet …
Rory’s eyes met Nick’s. Her lashes were so long they left shadows on her cheekbones. Her hair shone under the “state-of-the-art lighting system.” She looked so appealing that Nick momentarily forgot the purpose of this meeting. It had been too long since he’d seen her. She was his rock, his touchstone.
It was Jacobson’s turn to say his piece. He rose, tall and stately, his hair thin and white and as feathery as cotton candy, his suit at least twenty years out of date. “Paul and I were made an offer we couldn’t refuse,” he said with a touch of humor he was famous for. Polite chuckles sounded from the table. “We took a damn long time finding someone with the right qualities to take over our baby. We hope you’ll all be happy with our decision.”
He rambled on, using phrases like “wonderful corporate teamwork” and “the spirit of excellence that has always been such a part of Jacobson & Kern,” then launched into Nick’s own investment history. After finishing with something about how “Shard Limited’s incomparable reputation should speak for itself,” he sat down with the unbending regality of his generation. Nick glanced at the Jacobson & Kern employees. They all looked slightly dazed but hopeful. All except Tisdale, whose stony expression did not bode well for the future.
“More questions?” Nick asked, after thanking Jacobson for his loyalty-stirring speech.
The woman seated next to Rory tentatively lifted her hand. “I know this isn’t exactly pertinent, but I assume the benefit we’re sponsoring for the Puget Sound Children’s Hospital will still be held on schedule?”
“Yes. That’s in two weeks, right?”
Heads bobbed in assent.
“So everything basically just stays the same?” another man asked.
Nick nodded. “I know there are always bumps during any transition. I’ll do the best I know how to keep things running smoothly.”
Five minutes later the group exited the boardroom. Several people hung back, however. Rory was one. Tisdale another. Trouble already? Nick wondered as he helped Kern to the door. The older man leaned heavily on his cane. “Leave me alone,” he said irritably as Sam tried to pick up where Nick left off. He slapped at Sam’s hands. Shrugging, Sam let him teeter away on his own power.
Nick turned expectantly to Tisdale.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush,” he said aggressively. “I handled the Marsden account before, and then took the heat for a bad move. Marsden blamed me personally. It nearly cost me my job. Since you’re his friend, I’m sure you’ve heard all about it, but before you decide to let me go, I suggest you check my record. I’ve given out more good advice than bad. Just ask Rory.” He smiled tightly in Rory’s direction.
Rory’s lips parted in surprise. Before she could answer, Nick intervened. “I’m not letting anyone go just yet. Let’s all try to work together for a while.”
Tisdale wasn’t satisfied. His brows descended like a black cloud. With a grunt that could have meant anything, he clenched Nick’s hand in one short, aggressive handshake, then headed out the door.
Nick next turned to Sam, who glanced pointedly at Rory. Clearly he wanted to be the last to claim Nick’s attention.
Nick inwardly sighed. He would have liked to talk to Rory alone again.
Rory looked troubled. She glanced up swiftly, meeting his gaze directly. “Nick, I…”
“What?”
Sam, who was hovering near Nick’s right elbow, looked avidly at Rory. Hesitating, Rory finally shrugged. “See you later,” she muttered, walking determinedly out the door behind Tisdale and down the hall to her office. This time the gentle sway of her hips reminded Nick of that long-ago moment when he’d watched her walk away in a pair of shorts.
Rory passed her office and strode to the women’s restroom. She glared at her reflection in the mirror. Her blue eyes were shadowed with suppressed emotion, and the highlights in her hair seemed to shimmer with frustration.
After rinsing her cheeks, she took several deep breaths, then patted her face with a paper towel. What had Nick done to her? Don would never forgive her. Don wasn’t exactly her buddy but she’d always manage to get along with him. Now there would be all-out war. As happy as she was to see Nick, problems were popping up already. No one was going to understand about the Marsden account. She didn’t even understand. She could handle part of it, but all of it? Her coworkers would never forgive her.
“Nick,” she muttered to her frustrated reflection. “Are you going to be the boss from hell?”
Rory pressed her lips together. She was torn by feelings she didn’t want. She couldn’t believe Nick was back in her life. And that he was going to be such a powerful force.
The last time she’d seen Nick in person was for lunch while he was still married to Jenny. She’d been giddy with delight to have Nick all to herself for once, but then Jenny had shown up unexpectedly. Though Nick had clearly been annoyed, Jenny had ignored him and tried to act like she was pleased, pleased, pleased to see Rory. For the first part of the meal she kept putting her hand on Nick’s arm while she told Rory about all the fabulous trips they’d taken, all the fabulous friends they shared, all the fabulous plans they had for the future. She hadn’t fooled anyone, however, and eventually she’d recognized that fact and subsided into silence. The rest of the meal she’d sat like a stone, stewing the whole time, bringing down the conversation and spoiling the meal. In a moment alone with Rory, she
’d suddenly said, “You know we’re not the only women in Nick’s life.”
“Pardon?” Rory had asked.
“Neither you, nor I, are the only women in his life. We’re just two of them,” she’d said bitterly, and then Nick had returned and that was the last time Rory spoke to Jenny.
Now, years later, she recalled those words. No matter how much she loved Nick as a friend, she knew better than to want something more. He’d played the field quite a bit in college and Jenny had alluded that that hadn’t changed during their marriage. Could he be faithful to one woman? She had yet to meet a man who could be, and Nick was too attractive for his own good, so… maybe not. She had no idea what his dating history had been since the marriage, but she imagined it was a lot livelier than her own had been. If she ever thought about taking their relationship a step further, she would be asking for just the kind of trouble and heartache she’d pledged to avoid ever since finding her father having sex with Eileen, his current wife, in the kitchen of their family home.
Yeah… There would be no going down that route. Nick could be her boss, and that was fine, but he could never be anything more. She had to control any other feelings for him, or she would really pay the price. She would be, as ever, his good, good friend.
Suddenly, she had a sudden vision of Nick with someone from the office. Pamela, perhaps. Or Sharon. Or maybe Adriana. Her stomach clenched as her fertile mind went back to that scene with her father, substituting Nick and the beautiful, long-limbed Adriana pounding away together against the kitchen counter. She could even hear Adriana’s panting moans.
Clapping her hands to her ears, Rory caught her expression in the mirror and immediately dropped her hands. “It doesn’t matter,” she gritted out as she left the restroom. “It doesn’t matter at all.”
Pamela, her blond head glued to her receiver, made a frantic signal to Rory as Rory headed back toward her office, letting her know someone was in her office. Lifting a hand to let Pamela know she understood, Rory pushed open her door. Don was undoubtedly waiting inside.
But the man who turned from examining her view wasn’t Don. “I didn’t want to leave without talking to you again,” Nick said
Rory struggled with the image of Nick and Adriana that still invaded her mind. “Okay… was there something specific?”
He was leaning against her desk, glancing down at the pages scattered across its top. Rory suddenly remembered the note she’d written to herself about returning his call, and felt uncomfortable. She moved forward.
“I’m flying back to San Francisco tomorrow morning,” he said, turning his gaze her way.
“But you’ll soon be a fixture around here,” she answered lightly.
“Do you want to talk about the Marsden account now or later? I’d just as soon get started.”
“You sure don’t let any grass grow beneath your feet, do you?”
“Not if I can help it?”
“Rory?” Pamela asked tentatively from the doorway. Rory turned to look at her. “Um… I didn’t want you to forget that meeting with Mr. Levinson. About his stock portfolio?” She gazed at Nick, one hand lightly touching the back of her hair.
“I hadn’t forgotten.”
Reluctantly, Pamela disappeared the way she’d come. Normally she wouldn’t have left her chair to deliver that message. The intercom worked just fine.
“Looks like you already have one on the line,” Rory said to Nick.
“One on the line?”
“You know what I mean.”
He gazed after Pamela, then looked at Rory in amusement. “Women?”
“Yes. Women.” Rory circled around her desk but that just brought her into closer proximity to him.
His eyes were alight with mischief. “Jealous?”
“Oh, c’mon. You and I. That’s not our deal.” A wave of citrusy cologne enveloped her—his citrusy cologne. Rory had to admit that Nick could be a very powerful force indeed. “You do know what a pain in the ass you can be.”
“You’ve told me often enough.”
“I’ve got to meet with Mr. Levinson. A small account, but you never know.” Drawing on her courage, she added, “You’d better leave before I fall victim to your fatal charms.”
“I’m still trying to figure out how to manage that.”
“Get out of here.” She made shooing motions with her hands. “Or I’ll be late.”
“Why don’t you skip the meeting? Let’s play hooky.”
“Some boss you are. Trying to test my job responsibility?”
“You’ve become a workaholic, haven’t you? You probably need a vacation.”
“At least a month,” she agreed. The file she needed to bring to the meeting was beneath his hip. She grabbed the edge of it and gave it a yank. The file didn’t budge but her fingers accidentally brushed against the fine wool of his slacks. “Move over,” she demanded.
“All you had to do was ask.” Obligingly he raised one hip, picked up the file and handed it to her. “However, I’m not against your methods.”
Rory curled her fingers into her palm, alarmed at the tingling she felt.
“Have dinner with me tonight.”
The invitation was spoken quickly, almost urgently. Rory glanced up at him. His expression gave nothing away, but she could sense there was something more behind it. “Tonight?”
“That’s right.”
Rory glanced away, annoyed at her heightened awareness to him. She thought about Adriana but couldn’t summon up the image of her with Nick again.
“If you turn me down, I’ll think our love affair is over,” he added, smiling. “Be ready around seven, I’ll pick you up.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I might have other plans?”
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Well?”
“All right, seven o’clock… do you even know where I live?”
“Same place, right?” he said, flashing her a smile as he straightened from her desk.
Rory nodded, wondering if she were merely predictable or maybe flat-out boring. She should have moved at least once since she’d taken this job, but she never had.
Nick disappeared through the door, and Rory’s gaze followed after him. It was just one dinner. No big deal. And she did need to know more about Marsden.
Two seconds later, Rory heard Pamela’s chair slam into her desk and the rapid-fire sound of her footsteps. She flung open Rory’s door dramatically. “Who was that?” she cried. “The new boss?”
Give me strength, Rory thought. “Yessirree.”
“Do you know him? It sounded like you know him.”
“Thanks for listening to a private conversation.”
“I couldn’t hear much,” she protested.
“We’re passing acquaintances,” Rory admitted, letting her off the hook.
“Maybe I can weasel an introduction out of you?” Pamela looked ready to fall to bended knee.
“You’re employed by him. It’s bound to happen. Spying Mr. Levinson heading her way across the wide reception room, Rory turned toward the door.
“Is he—do you know if—is he married?”
“He’s divorced and, as far as I know, unattached,” she said, inwardly groaning at the girl’s shining eyes.
Working for Nick could turn out to be a little bit of hell.
DEAR DIARY — NANCY BUSH
Chapter Five
Some things never change. Take a look at Nick. He’s still way too attractive for his own good. I have this terrible feeling that disaster awaits around the corner. Can I seriously survive having him for my boss? At least our friendship can pick up where it left off. But I can’t even dream about something more with him. It would be a fatal mistake and I would lose him forever as a friend. Never, never, never, never. Are you listening, Rory? Never, ever, ever.
Closing down the file, Rory shut her laptop, and rubbed her eyes. She hadn’t written in her diary in years, the one with the jeweled cl
asp her mom had given her on her ninth birthday. Her last entry, in fact, had been right after Nick’s wedding. It had simply read “The End.” Prophetic, really, she thought with a tired smile. But now he was back, and worse yet, he was in charge. How was she ever going to live with that?
Shaking her head, she returned the diary to its hiding place inside her top dresser drawer, beneath her lingerie. She hadn’t thought she’d be writing in it again, but now Nick was back in her life for better or worse. She’d read through it, and then had turned to her laptop and keyboard to put down her feelings, although maybe the little book was safer. She’d have to think on that.
Yanking open her closet door, she wrinkled her nose at the small collection of evening clothes. She had two, maybe three, suitable outfits for tonight’s “date,” and they were tightly stuffed inside the miniscule space. Her apartment was compact and utilitarian; what it lacked in size it made up for in livability. Not that she needed much area, but now, staring at the limp, crushed clothes she wondered if she might be due for a change.
Pulling out her one little black dress, she held it up to herself and surveyed it critically in her vanity mirror. It was almost too elegant for tonight, but she didn’t have enough time to play around with her wardrobe, searching for the perfect outfit. Besides, she felt like dressing up.
Slipping her feet into a pair of black, peep-toe heels, she wondered if she was going to look too dressed up. Maybe that was good. Although, if the one thing she intended to accomplish tonight was putting her relationship with Nick on the right track, this dress might be the wrong choice. She’d vowed that she and Nick could be business associates and friends. Nothing more. She didn’t need to subvert herself right off the bat.
“What are you so worried about?” she asked herself irritably as she pulled out some sparkly red earrings. “Nick isn’t interested in you anyway.”