Falling For Her Boss

by Karen Rose Smith

  ****

  Sipping her chocolate milkshake on Thursday evening, Francie sat with Gina in the snack bar at Roller-Fun. Every few minutes Gina checked her watch and glanced toward the doors. Francie had been delighted when Gina told her she'd bring Jake in to meet her. Besides, in addition to the opportunity to build a better relationship with Gina, Francie appreciated the distraction. She practically jumped out of her skin whenever Noah came close, so she'd avoided him as much as she could. But she couldn't avoid the real estate agents who'd paraded through the rink all week, asking her questions.

  Turning her thoughts back to Gina, Francie tried to reassure her. "He's only five minutes late. Relax."

  Gina stripped the paper from her straw and plopped it in her shake. "He gets tied up sometimes. Maybe he decided..."

  "Skating isn't the 'cool' thing to do?" Francie finished.

  Gina grimaced at her sister's terminology. "Something like that."

  "You know, we soon have to get everyone together to finish planning Mama and Pop's anniversary party. What do you think about meeting here tomorrow evening?"

  "That's fine," Gina said absently, then broke into a wide smile as she stood and waved her arm at a young man to attract his attention.

  Francie studied the teenager who swaggered toward their table. He was undeniably good-looking, his shaggy hair defying the new shorter looks. An air of defiance accentuated his stance and glowed from his eyes. Francie saw immediately why Gina was attracted to him. He was everything Gina was not. Rebellious. Daring. Probably a risktaker.

  Tight black denims hugged Jake's hips. His silver studded leather jacket was unzipped, revealing a black T-shirt underneath. He put his arm around Gina and stooped to give her a long, full kiss, then looked at Francie as if expecting a comment. She didn't give one.

  With a half-smile, he said, "Gina's told me a lot about you. You're famous."

  He looked as if fame was one thing that might impress him. "Not anymore." Francie extended her hand. "It's good to meet you."

  He took her hand briefly then slid into the booth beside Gina, scanning the rink. "I haven't been inside this place in years."

  "You and Gina are welcome any time."

  He narrowed his eyes. "So you can keep your eye on us?"

  "Why would you think that?"

  His expression told her he hadn't expected her to challenge him. "You're Gina's older sister. Families are usually nosy."

  Gina looked uncomfortable and Francie was determined to handle this as tactfully as she could. Whatever was going on with Gina, Francie didn't want to alienate her further. "I care about Gina. But I made the offer because I thought you two might have fun here. Lots of teenagers do."

  "Yeah, well, I'm not like lots of teenagers. Neither is Gina." He patted her hand. "At least she's finding that out."

  Francie wondered exactly what they had been doing on their dates.

  Gina quickly explained, "Jake has college friends. We spend a lot of time with them."

  Doing what? Francie wondered. Instead of asking, she tried to make the conversation base broader. "Are you and Gina taking the same classes?"

  "Social studies is about it. Gina's headed for college. I'm not."

  "What do you plan to do?"

  His expression became wary. "Work on the race-car circuit. I work with a mechanic now. We soup up cars."

  "For race tracks?"

  "Not exactly." He shot a quick look at Gina. "Some kids race on highways, not speedways."

  Gina averted her gaze and looked down at her pink-tipped fingernails.

  But Jake looked straight at Francie. "Not when anyone else is on the road, of course."

  Gina mumbled, "They do it at three or four in the morning." She raised her chin. "It's not as bad as it sounds."

  "That's good, because it sounds dangerous." Francie was ready to talk her father into locking Gina in her room until she was twenty-five. But that wouldn't create a bond of trust between her and her sister. Criticizing Jake in front of Gina wouldn't work, either.

  Noah appeared beside their table, and Francie wondered if he'd overheard the conversation. He smiled at Gina and asked, "Are you ready to skate?"

  Gina leaned closer to Jake. "This is Noah Gordon. He owns the rink."

  Jake's brows raised. "Really? So you're Francie's boss."

  "I own the rink. Ms. Piccard runs it." Noah said to Francie, "There's a message for you on the rink's answering machine. It must have come in over the dinner break."

  "Is it urgent?"

  "It can probably wait, but you're the best judge of that."

  Jake slid toward the edge of the booth. "We don't want to keep you. Gina and I are meeting some friends in Biglerville."

  Gina looked surprised as if it was the first she'd heard about it. "Yeah, that's right."

  Noah moved away so Jake could get out. "It's a shame you aren't going to stay. We play a mix of music on Thursdays."

  "I'm into rap," Jake muttered as he slid out and stood.

  "What about you, Gina?" Noah asked.

  "I like lots of different music–and I'm into rap."

  Francie knew better. Gina liked rock and had never been ashamed to admit it before.

  Jake curved his arm around Gina's waist and led her to the lobby. But Gina stopped and looked at Francie over her shoulder. "Thanks for the offer of free passes. Maybe another time."

  Francie picked up her milkshake and slid out of the booth. Another time and another boy. She had a feeling Jake wouldn't be caught dead on roller skates. But she wouldn't give up trying. "Saturday's teen night. If you and Jake would like to come then..."

  Jake turned and tossed over his shoulder, "We'll let you know."

  His attitude annoyed Francie, and more for his sake than Gina's, she said, "Remember, this is a school night."

  The corners of Gina's mouth turned down and she shot Francie a dark look. "I know my curfew, Francie. I remembered it just fine when you weren't around." Without a backward glance, Gina let Jake lead her out of the snack bar toward the exit.

  "I shouldn't have said that," Francie mumbled to herself.

  "I would have said more than that. You were more tactful than I could have been."

  It seemed the most natural thing in the world for Francie to turn to Noah and say, "I'm worried about her."

  "With good reason. I didn't hear much, but I overheard enough to know he's not good for her."

  Francie smiled because Noah sounded just like a disapproving father. "Maybe we formed a judgment too soon."

  "She races with him in one of those cars and you'll wish we'd formed it even sooner."

  "She has too much sense. She'd never--"

  "She's seventeen and trying her wings."

  Francie shook her head. "I know Gina. She's too level-headed to do something that stupid."

  "She's under his influence. You could see she didn't know about his plans for tonight. If she thinks she's in love, if she thinks he can do no wrong, anything can happen."

  Noah's words held truth. At one time Francie thought Brent could do no wrong. "We like to think the people we love are perfect."

  "Experience teaches us differently. Gina's not old enough to realize that yet." Noah examined Francie closely. "I didn't mean to upset you. Are you going to talk to your parents about him?"

  "Not yet. I want Gina to know she can come to me if she needs to. As long as she's in by her curfew, I'll know she's not racing on a deserted highway. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't say anything, either."

  Noah's tone became distant, removed. "It's your business, not mine. I'm on the outside looking in. I'm not about to meddle."

  Francie wondered why he'd suddenly backed off. He had been concerned. But as he said, Gina was her business. He'd be leaving in a few weeks. Maybe he'd remembered that, too.

  Noah stopped in the program room while Francie went to the office. The little red light on the answering machine blinked. Francie pressed the button for it to play.

 
"Francie, it's Brent. You didn't give me your cell number. The old one didn't work. And I know your mom doesn't think the best of me right now. I hope you're thinking about my offer, about that gold medal that would look so beautiful around your neck. We can capture the dream. I know we can. I've missed you over the past year, and together I know we can win. Call me soon."

  The machine clicked off.

  Francie could remember a time when Brent's voice was the only voice she'd wanted to hear. She'd looked to him for guidance and approval. But now...

  Noah appeared in the doorway.

  "You could have told me what Brent wanted."

  Noah shrugged. "It sounded private to me."

  "Brent's wanting to win a gold medal is not private."

  "His missing you might be."

  Noah's voice had a husky timbre that melted through her like a hot toddy. The questions in Noah's eyes demanded answers. But he didn't ask the questions. She felt compelled to give him the answers anyway. "That part of it is over, Noah."

  He took a few steps into the room. "I wonder. If you skate with him again, if you get the magic back, wouldn't your relationship revive?"

  "No. I'm a different person now. I'm not young, idealistic, or blinded by pretty words and charm."

  Noah looked somewhat relieved but still a bit skeptical. "You owe it to yourself to find out for certain or you'll always wonder what could have been."

  She ran her fingers over the answering machine, thinking about gliding across the ice, the sound of her blades, Brent lifting her. "You think I should go to New York."

  "I know you want to make your own decision, but for what it's worth, I think you should go."

  "That would solve your problem, wouldn't it?" she asked, annoyed because he thought he could give her advice.

  "What problem?"

  "My job managing the rink. If I go back to skating, I won't be in your way."

  "You're not in my way now, Francie."

  His low voice made goose bumps break out on her arms. "Why did you really decide to stay?"

  "I needed a breather, time to work on profit analysis. I can work here as well as anywhere else."

  "So nothing I say or do is going to convince you not to sell the rink."

  "Probably not. I'm going to list with the agent I spoke to on Monday."

  His decision created a squall of anger. "You can list the rink, but that doesn't mean you'll sell it."

  "Maybe not in two months, maybe not in six. But it will sell eventually. Everything does."

  She came around the desk and stood before him. "And everything has a price. Is that the way it is, Noah?"

  His face hardened. His jaw set. "Most things do."

  She pushed by him, ignoring the woodsy scent that lingered even at the end of the day. But now there was more male than woods. She needed to get away from his presence, away from her attraction toward him, away from the temptation of feeling more than she should.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "Has the roof leaked since you've been here?" Noah asked Francie Friday afternoon as he sat at the desk in the rink's office, filling out a disclosure form for the real estate agent. The problem was he couldn't keep his mind on the form. Every time he looked at Francie, he could remember the feel of her in his arms.

  And it wasn't just Francie who was distracting him. It was her whole family. They treated him as if they'd known him all their lives. Paul treated him like a...son. Paul had taken his advice about a laptop and they'd gotten a great deal. Noah had helped Francie's father set up the laptop. The experience had brought back memories of another man who'd treated Noah like a son. Noah had been eight. And for a few months, he'd hoped he'd have a dad like most other kids.

  But then his mother's agent had booked her a job in Detroit. The man Noah had hoped would become his stepfather hadn't gone with them. And Noah had never seen or heard from him again.

  "The roof has never leaked as far as I know," Francie answered him, bringing his attention to her again.

  She frowned and Noah knew what she was thinking. She thought he only cared about money. That wasn't true. He cared about the future of his company. He did believe anyone could be bought. He believed money could ease people's woes, if not bring them happiness. If he could have helped his mother sooner financially, maybe she would have stopped drinking, maybe she would have settled in one place, maybe she'd still be alive.

  "What's next?" Francie asked almost impatiently.

  "Plumbing," he answered. "Have you had any problems with the bathrooms or kitchen?"

  "No," Francie sighed as she restlessly crossed her legs.

  When Noah looked up from the form, her eyes met his. A stream of excitement shot through her as she remembered his arms around her in the garage apartment. His eyes darkened to deep jade, and she knew he was remembering, too. The tension between them was making her jumpy.

  She tore her gaze from his and looked down at the disclosure paper. But instead of the form, her eyes fell on Noah's hand as it lay across the top corner. He had long fingers. The middle one on the left hand looked as if it might have been broken at one time. It was slightly crooked.

  "I caught it in a car door."

  She looked up, embarrassed. "Don't you miss anything?"

  He smiled. "I try not to. If I'm on top of everything that goes on around me, I can be prepared for what happens next."

  When his lips curved like that she wanted to touch them. "Always?"

  His brows drew together and the line of his jaw became sharper. "No, not always. Sometimes I miss what's right under my nose."

  She tried to draw her attention away from his lips by staring into his eyes, but they were just as intriguing. They were deep green and secretive. "You have something specific in mind?"

  "Yes, I do."

  "But you're not going to tell me what."

  "No."

  It annoyed her that, though she had confided so easily in him, he was so guarded with her. "Do you share your personal life with anyone?"

  "Maybe I don't have a personal life."

  "Surely you have friends, people you care about."

  He picked up the pen, clicked it open and shut. "A few. But you have to remember my life is on the road. I might be at my home base in Richmond a month at the longest, three or four times a year. During the rest, I just stop in for a weekend or a few days."

  Francie shook her head. "I don't see how you can live like that. I never got used to traveling for competitions, living out of a suitcase. Brent seemed to thrive on it. I...I missed my family."

  Noah settled back in his chair, his elbows on the arms. "When did you first leave home?"

  "When I was thirteen. A coach saw me at a regional competition and told my parents she could take me further than my present coach. So I moved to Boston to train with her."

  He laid the pen on the desk and focused his full attention on her. "That must have been hard for your parents."

  She shifted in her chair; his compelling green eyes seemed to see through her. "It was. But they wanted me to succeed. Sometimes I think Mama wanted it more than I did. I simply wanted to skate. She wanted to see me at the Olympics."

  "When did McIntosh come into the picture?"

  Noah's voice was neutral, but there was a quality there that made her wonder what he was thinking. "When I was eighteen. It's hard to believe we skated together for almost six years."

  "He took the place of your family."

  Noah's intuition was at work again. She shouldn't be surprised. "I guess he did. I depended on him too much. I'll never make that mistake again."

  "Depending on people is hard for me, too," Noah admitted, leaning forward. "If you depend on someone, they can let you down."

  "Exactly." A bond of understanding surrounded her and Noah. Brent had let her down. But who had hurt Noah? His mother? Craig? A woman? Francie's heard pounded. She didn't like the idea of another woman with Noah. "Have you ever been married?"

  Noah looked surprised by her qu
estion. "No. With my lifestyle it wouldn't be feasible or fair."

  "You don't see that changing?"

  "Not in the near future."

  Well, that was plain enough. Settling down was definitely not in Noah's plans. Why had she even entertained the possibility? Because she was thinking about becoming involved? No. She knew better. Maybe after she decided what she was going to do with her life, she'd think about loving someone again.

  "I think someone wants to see you," Noah said.

  Francie looked over her shoulder and recognized the eight-year-old with the tousled brown hair. He came to the rink after school and on Saturday afternoons. But he hung around the lobby with his friends. He didn't skate.

  She beckoned to him. "Come on in, Drew. How can I help you?"

  Drew took no mind of Noah sitting behind the desk and came right over to Francie. "I want to skate."

  Francie smiled. "I think we can arrange that. You can rent a pair of skates--"

  "No, I mean I wanna skate, but my dad won't let me. He thinks I'll get hurt. Ever since my sister was in that car wreck, he won't let me go anywhere by myself. He won't let me do anything!"

  Francie had heard about Drew's sister. She'd been in the hospital for a while last year. "I can see why your dad is worried. And I can't let you skate without his permission."

  Drew chewed on his bottom lip. "Yeah. I know. But maybe if you tell him I'll be okay, he'll believe you. Please?"

  How could she say no? "This means a lot to you."

  Drew jammed his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his sneakers. "All my friends skate and I want to be out there with them. Will you talk to him? I'm going home with Rick today, but Dad will bring us tomorrow."

  "I'll talk to him. But I can't make any promises. It's still his decision."

  "You'll change his mind. I know you will."

  After Drew had dashed out of the office, Noah asked, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

  "Talking to Drew's father? It can't hurt."

  Noah's gaze was steady and serious. "It can if you change his mind and something happens. I don't think it's advisable to get personally involved with the customers."

  She raised her hand in an I-don't-believe-this gesture. "I'm not going to date him. I'm going to talk to him."