Those facts didn’t matter, she thought, realizing full well she was being stubborn, maybe even a little immature, but unable to do a thing about it at the moment. Kyle still had no right to make any assumptions regarding her social life.
“By all means,” he said, “go and have a great time.”
In the blink of an eye, he was gone. And Cindy was left all alone. Seething to the marrow of her bones.
“It’s my birthday,” she informed the empty room through gritted teeth. “And you forgot, Kyle. Again.”
A full thirty seconds had passed before she got a controlling grip on her hurt and resentful feelings. She had to do something about this situation. She had to do something drastic.
“Happy birthday, dear Cindy,” the four women sang in unison, even if their concerted effort was a little off-key, “happy birthday to you.”
Having forced all the depressing feelings aside, Cindy offered her friends a huge smile. “Aw, you guys are sweet,” she told them. An elaborately decorated birthday cake, its thirty candles blazing, sat in the middle of the table. “But what are you trying to do?” Teasing sarcasm thickened her tone. “Blind every resident of Phoenix with all these candles?”
Rachel Sinclair chuckled. “Well, blow them out already. The light is beginning to hurt my eyes.”
An accountant for Barrington, Rachel was the first person Cindy had befriended when coming to work for the company.
“The candles on my cake might make a mighty blaze,” Cindy quipped to Rachel, “but yours will always burn brighter than mine.”
“Don’t remind me,” Rachel moaned. “Everyone here already knows I’m the oldest one in the group.”
Cindy grinned. “And we don’t intend to let you forget it, either,” she teased. Then she leaned toward the cake.
“Wait!” Molly Doyle put her hand on Cindy’s sleeve.
Molly worked in the advertising department. She was a creative genius when it came to promotion and marketing.
“You’ve got to make a wish,” Molly went on. “A woman gets so few opportunities to wish for her heart’s desire.”
“That’s the truth.” Olivia McGovern, a paralegal at Barrington, reached for her glass of water, its ice cubes tinkling.
“And if I know Cindy,” Sophia Shepherd said, “her wish will have something to do with one Mr. Kyle Prentice.”
Cindy’s gaze widened as she looked at Sophia. The usually withdrawn and quiet secretary had surprised Cindy by mentioning Kyle.
Heat suddenly suffused Cindy’s face, and she pressed her fingers to her cheeks. She shouldn’t feel embarrassed. These women were her friends. They knew what was happening between herself and Kyle. Or rather, what wasn’t happening.
No, she commanded silently. No bad feelings allowed. Not tonight. Not when I’m celebrating my birthday. Again she leaned toward the blazing cake.
“The wish,” Rachel pointedly reminded her.
“Okay, okay,” Cindy said. As soon as she lowered her eyelids, images of Kyle’s handsome face floated before her. For a second, she couldn’t decide whether to wish for a simple kiss from the man, or to go all out and wish for a full-fledged marriage proposal. A rough chuckle erupted from her throat.
“What’s so funny?” Molly asked.
Cindy simply shook her head. “Nothing,” she said, realizing the ironic truth: she could either laugh about her predicament or she could cry. Tonight she intended to laugh.
Deciding she might as well wish for the whole shebang, she silently recited her marital hopes and then blew out the candles with one big puff. Although she knew good and well it was one wasted wish.
The rest of the women cheered and clapped, and Cindy pushed her eyeglasses back into place, pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Oh,” Olivia said, “I hope everyone doesn’t mind. I invited Patricia.”
“Peel?” Cindy said.
Sophia’s brows rose a fraction. “From Personnel?”
Olivia nodded. “She’s so shy. I thought it would do her good to meet us all. You know, get a chance to come out of her shell a little. Become one of the group.”
There were silent nods and smiles of agreement all around.
Rachel turned to Olivia. “You wouldn’t happen to know if she’s over thirty-one, would you?”
“Sorry,” Olivia said, lifting a sympathetic shoulder, “but I think she’s younger.”
“Figures,” Rachel mumbled.
Cindy laughed. “You’re just destined to be the oldest. Get over it.”
“Patricia told me she had a meeting,” Olivia said, “and that she might be a little late—” She glanced toward the door, her face brightening. “Oh, here she is now.” She beckoned to Patricia with a hearty wave.
Friendly greetings were passed back and forth.
“Sorry I’m late,” Patricia said to everyone at large. Then she focused on Cindy. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” Cindy responded. “Make room, ladies. Patricia, sit, sit. I’m glad you could come.”
Chair legs raked the floor as space was made for another seat.
Patricia eased herself into the chair and rested her elbows on the table. She sighed. “I feel like my whole life has become one big meeting since the year began.”
“Because of Mr. Barrington’s announcement?” Olivia asked.
Patricia nodded.
“Can you believe,” Rachel commented, “that he declared his intention to retire at the New Year’s Eve party?”
Molly’s eyes rounded. “I thought I’d faint dead away when he told us.”
“Maybe,” Cindy piped up, “he thought announcing his retirement at the party would allow us to take the news as a kind of celebration. Maybe he wanted to keep us from worrying. I’m sure he wanted us to see this as a good thing.”
“Well, he might have intended to save us all some anxiety,” Sophia said, “but the whole company is still in an uproar.”
“I know rumors are running rampant in the legal department,” Olivia agreed.
“And poor Mildred,” Rachel said. “What’s going to happen to her?”
“She’s been Mr. Barrington’s personal assistant since—” Cindy searched the ceiling for just the right word “—forever.”
“Do you think she’ll be forced into retirement, too?”
Olivia addressed the entire group, but Cindy saw that her gaze was leveled on Patricia. As assistant personnel director, Patricia would know Mildred Van Hess’s fate more so than anyone else. One by one all the women turned their attention to Patricia.
“As loyal as Mildred has been,” Patricia said quietly, “to Mr. Barrington and Barrington Corp., she won’t be forced to do anything. There will be a job for her for as long as she wants to work.”
Cindy could feel the air lighten as everyone’s relief became apparent.
“What I want to know,” Sophia said, “is who’s going to take over for Mr. Barrington?”
Concern bit into Sophia’s brow and Cindy reached out and touched her forearm. Sophia was such a worrier.
Again, everyone turned their eager and curious eyes on Patricia. From the look on Patricia’s face, Cindy could tell the woman had no idea who the president’s successor would be. However, it was evident her mind was churning, and Cindy could clearly see Patricia wanted to be able to tell them something. She looked so anxious and eager to fit in with the group.
“There is one possibility,” Patricia began.
Cindy nearly grinned as all her friends grew silent and leaned closer. Heck, she followed suit. Everyone wanted to be privy to important information.
“Now, this is just a rumor,” Patricia prefaced. “But I’ve heard that it could be Mr. Barrington’s son. Rex, the Third.” Then she repeated, “Remember now, it’s just a rumor.”
“But isn’t he currently in charge of the overseas division?” Rachel asked.
Patricia nodded.
“Hmm,” Molly said, her eyes glinting with humor, “I wonder if he’s single
.” Sophia plucked a tortilla chip from the basket on the table. “I wonder if he’s cute.”
Laughter lightened the mood.
“Wouldn’t it be something—” Sophia suddenly grew thoughtful “—if the Third were to arrive and fall in love with one of us. Something like that could lead to marriage.”
“It would be something, all right,” Rachel said.
Olivia added, “A miracle is what it would be.” She reached out and slid the bowl of gooey, green guacamole dip toward Sophia. “Here,” she told Sophia, “take the dip over there. I think I must be coming down with the flu because the sight of that stuff is making me a little queasy.”
The moment love and marriage had been mentioned, Cindy felt disappointment creeping up on her like a stealthy shadow. The best solution, she knew, was to change the subject.
“Where’s the waitress?” she asked. “I’m starved. Let’s order some dinner. Then we can cut that beautiful cake.”
Several minutes were spent choosing food from the menu.
After the waitress walked away, Rachel said, “So what were we talking about?”
“We were fantasizing,” Sophia said. “About marrying the Third.”
In spite of her discomfort with the topic, Cindy had to chuckle over the name her friend had chosen for Mr. Barrington’s son. If she knew this group of ladies, and she did, the nickname would stick to the man like glue.
“Well,” Molly said, “the man I marry is going to be gentle. A sensitive soul.” She smiled wistfully. “A man who wants at least five kids.”
Toying with the edge of her linen napkin, Cindy studied Molly. The woman never talked about her parents or siblings, only dreamed about the huge loving family she intended to have one day. There was more to Molly than met the eye.
“Stable and dependable,” Olivia softly offered. “Those are traits I’m looking for.”
And Stanley Whitcomb, Olivia’s boss, surely fit that bill perfectly. Cindy thought that Stanley was a little too old for Olivia, but if a relationship with him would make her friend happy, then she’d be delighted.
“What about excitement?” Rachel asked. “And passion?”
“Fancy Ms. Straitlaced here,” Cindy observed, “crowing about passion.”
“Everyone needs a little passion,” Rachel murmured. Then everyone laughed, including Rachel.
“Security is the key,” Olivia finally declared.
“How about you, Patricia?” Sophia asked. “What are you looking for in a husband?”
Patricia remained silent, panic flashing in her light green eyes. The color flooding her face hinted at a mysterious tale of its own.
She’s in love, Cindy mused. Deeply in love. She’s harboring a secret crush. How interesting. Cindy couldn’t help but wonder who the lucky man might be.
“Leave the woman alone,” Rachel admonished. “She’s new to the group. You can’t expect her to spill her guts right from the start.”
“Yes,” Molly added firmly, “let her get to know us a bit first.” She leaned forward in her seat, waggling her eyebrows. “Then we’ll force her to spill her guts.”
Olivia tucked a strand of her long, auburn hair behind her ear. “You haven’t told us, Birthday Girl,” she said to Cindy, “what did Kyle do for your birthday?”
“Yes, yes,” Molly said. “Tell us everything. Did he send you flowers?”
“Or was it chocolates?” Sophia asked.
Cindy felt the definite urge to groan. It was time to fess up. These were her friends, and they didn’t deserve to be lied to. Inhaling deeply, she steeled herself.
Her voice was quiet, her head shaking as she said, “He didn’t do anything.”
There was a moment of silence as everyone absorbed what she said, and the implications of it.
“Oh, honey,” Rachel said, “I’m sorry.” She reached out and touched Cindy on the wrist.
“Maybe he’s planning to do something tomorrow,” Patricia gently suggested.
“Yes,” Sophia added, “maybe he got the date wrong.”
Cindy shook her head. “No, he didn’t get the date wrong. He forgot the date altogether.”
“You can’t be sure of that,” Olivia said.
“Oh, but I am,” Cindy responded. “I’m very sure. And it’s time for me to face the facts. Kyle’s never going to take an interest in me as a woman. As his assistant, maybe. But never as a flesh-and-blood woman.” Finally she sighed. “I’ve come to the conclusion that...it might be time to give up on Kyle.”
The admission was depressing. To all of them. When one of them lost their hope and dream of finding true love, then the dreams of all of them became a little tarnished and seemingly far out of reach.
After a moment of silent commiseration, Rachel said, “Cindy, have you ever thought of...taking a different tack?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well...” Rachel paused. “First off, I want you to remember that I’m your friend. I don’t want your feelings to be hurt by what I’m about to suggest.”
Curiosity knit Cindy’s brow, but it didn’t keep her from responding warmly, “I know you love me. Feel free to say whatever you feel needs to be said.”
Resting her elbows on the table, Rachel said, “You have a lovely wardrobe. Your long, full skirts and flat-heeled shoes are...professional looking. Comfortable. Very, um, how should I say it? Decent. But have you ever thought of changing your style? Maybe getting a little...racy?”
Rachel’s face tinged pink, like she couldn’t believe she’d actually made the suggestion.
Laughter bubbled from Molly. “I get it! Cindy, what she’s saying is that you should buy yourself a few indecent outfits. Some short skirts that might turn Kyle’s head. You certainly have the body to pull it off.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Sophia said. “And I’m sure a visit to the hair salon would do wonders. Cindy would look beautiful with a little curl in her hair, don’t you think?”
“A perm, maybe,” Olivia embellished the notion. “And those glasses hide your lovely green eyes, Cindy. Maybe a little mascara would bring them out.”
Panic churned in Cindy’s stomach like the massive tornado in The Wizard Of Oz. No, no, no! She couldn’t do as they were suggesting. She simply refused to use her physical attributes as bait to catch a man.
“You don’t understand,” Cindy told them vehemently. “I want Kyle to notice me because I’m a good person. Because I’m competent and helpful to him. Because I’m dependable and caring. I want him notice me for who I am, not what I look like.”
Cindy knew they could never understand. They could never see why it was so important to her to be loved for her intelligence, her character. She could never live with the idea that Kyle was interested in her because of some silly physical attraction. Not after what she’d seen happen in her own home.
“Okay, okay,” Rachel crooned softly, “so it was a stupid suggestion—”
“It wasn’t stupid” came a reply.
“I thought it was a good idea,” someone else said.
Utter distress kept Cindy from hearing exactly who said what.
“Maybe she should just think about it.”
It was then that the waitress arrived with platters of hot and fragrant food, and as Cindy slowly slid her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose, she was quite aware that she’d completely lost her appetite.
Chapter Two
That Friday, Kyle arrived in the office earlier than usual. He and Cindy would be presenting their new idea to Mr. Barrington this afternoon. Kyle had just settled down with his second cup of coffee and was rereading the meeting notes he’d prepared when movement at his door caught his eye.
“Good morning, Rachel,” he called, prompting the woman to enter his office.
“Good morning,” she said.
Knowing Rachel was a good friend of Cindy’s, Kyle said, “I don’t think Cindy’s arrived yet. She usually gets in right at eight-thirty.” One corner of his mouth tipped up int
o a smile. “And she’s never been late.”
“Actually, I came to speak to you,” Rachel said.
“Oh?” He had to admit, he was surprised. “What can I do for you?”
“You can, ah,” she said, “let me borrow Cindy this morning.”
“Borrow...Cindy?” Rachel had him very curious now. He set down his coffee cup.
“Y-yes, well, you see,” Rachel stammered. “The girls wanted to give Cindy a gift. It was...we wanted...”
She huffed in frustration, and it was obvious to Kyle that she was trying to tell him something without revealing everything. He sat back, resting his elbow on the arm of his chair.
Then she softly blurted, “This past Wednesday was Cindy’s birthday. The girls want to take her out this morning and get her hair done, buy her a new outfit. As a gift. We pitched in. We know today’s a big day for her, with the presentation and all.”
“Cindy had a birthday on Wednesday?”
The question slipped from his lips before he could stop it, and he knew the instant the words were spoken that he’d broken his number-one rule: avoid personal involvement of any and all kinds.
Rachel nodded. “The birth date’s got to be in her personnel file. As her boss—”
“Yes,” he said, cutting off the censure he heard in Rachel’s tone. Rachel’s use of the word boss felt like a quick cuff on the jaw. He was Cindy’s boss. Period. Nothing more, nothing less. “I’ve seen her file.”
But you skipped over all the personal stuff, reading only what was absolutely necessary to discern that Cindy was qualified to be your personal assistant, the words echoed through his brain. Then the silent voice reminded him, Remember the rule against becoming personally involved. You had sound reasons for making it.
“A little pampering would be good for Cindy,” he said, hoping his easy tone made up for his gruff interruption. “Especially today. Just have her back before two. The meeting is to start promptly at two.”
“Oh, don’t you worry,” Rachel said, an amiable, almost impish grin pulling at her mouth. “She’ll be back.”
The Boss and the Beauty Page 2