“Why are you smiling?”
His smile widened as his gaze locked onto her. “Because you said ‘we,’ which makes us a team.”
Carrie stared at him in confusion. Why did he focus on her use of ‘we’ now? A since of joy flooded her as she understood. The ugly gray wall of his father’s teachings must have finally cracked a bit. Trent saw her as his team, which redefined ‘team’ as a good thing. She needed to expand the crevice while she could. “Yes, and our team needs to get bigger, so you don’t have another horrible month like this past one.”
He grasped her right hand and covered it with both of this. “I’m completely on board with this team stuff. And as soon as we hire this HR person and he gives me the nod, I’ll fire as many as you like and hire team workers instead.”
“Our expert might be a woman.”
His brow furrowed again. “Why would you think that?”
“Because we want to hire the best person we can afford, and given women tend to be paid less, the best person we can afford will probably be a woman.”
“True…. I only had to pay you half my former EA’s salary and you do twenty times the work he did.”
The pride in his voice pissed her off and tempted her to lecture him on pay discrimination, but she really needed to keep this conversation positive. “Once the improvements I made in Taiwan improve our profit margins, I hope you’ll reward me for my efforts.”
“I intend to.” His eyes sparkled with a worrisome amount of delight.
God, don’t let him do something stupid like give me his Dali painting.
A moment later, the driver cursed and slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a halt.
Carrie stared out the window at the rows of parked cars. She looked through the back window and watched the parking lot grow behind them. Something must have happened to close Cross Bronx Expressway or the George Washington Bridge. God, would she never get home?
Not surprisingly, Trent lost his meager patience at once. “Sam, take the local roads into the city. I’m tired of sitting in this car.”
“The local streets aren’t particularly safe,” Sam warned.
“I sent you to defensive driving school, for God’s sake. It’s time I get my money’s worth.”
Sam sighed heavily. He stared at Carrie through the rearview mirror. “Please secure your seat belt. I may have to perform evasive maneuvers that could result in injury.”
Trent huffed. “Not if you plan to keep your—”
Carrie touched his arm. “We should practice our positive management responses on your home staff so it becomes second nature to you when the new people come to work.”
He sighed. “I intended to say Sam wouldn’t wish to lose his self-esteem. He ranked first in his class if I recall.”
Sam grew an inch taller. “True, but I’ll need to focus on evade-and-escape techniques, not drive-smoothly-so-the-passengers-can-sip-their-wine.”
“I’m sure you can do both.”
“I can, sir. Just not at the same time.”
Deciding a need to interrupt this discussion, she reached over Trent, located his seat belt and buckled him in. “Well done. A good manager should know details about his employees’ lives.”
Instead of complaining about her securing him in a seatbelt as if he were a child, he smiled. “Thank you.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Why had he done that? She couldn’t make sense of his actions. Perhaps he’d been touched to discover one of his employees didn’t want him dead. Embarrassed, she gently pulled her hand to the safety of her lap.
Trent’s focus turned to Sam. “Why aren’t we moving?”
“Because I require an exit, sir. I’ll take the first one I can.”
Trent eyed the side of the road. “Just drive on the side of the road.”
“No, sir.”
“If you get a ticket, I’ll pay for it.”
“Sir, the side of this road is littered with stripped cars, and once you pull over, no one will let you back in this lane. We’ll just have to wait until we crawl to the next exit.”
Trent breathed a heavy sigh of annoyance and unlocked his and then Carrie’s seat belts. “Well, tell us when you’ve found one.”
He turned his body so he faced her, his eyes intense, his brow furrowed in concentration. “So tell me about your childhood.”
Trent’s sudden interest in her childhood baffled and alarmed her. “What? Why?”
“You said a good manager should know his staff.”
She appreciated his desire to change, but wished he’d practice on someone else. Unfortunately, he had only two people to interrogate at the moment. Sam had enough stress on his hands, driving in this parking lot of aggressive East coast drivers. That left only her…damn it.
“Since I’m the quiet twin who rarely spoke or did anything of interest, I’ve nothing to tell.”
“Twin? There’s another of you around? Does she need a job?”
Carrie didn’t want her sister anywhere near her job…or her personal life—if she ever got one. “I wouldn’t know. After we graduated from high school we went to colleges on opposite sides of the country.”
“Why?” His interest seemed so genuine, that instead of feeding him a line of bull, she spoke from her heart. “Because I hated living in her shadow. From birth, my parents demoted me to the ‘other twin’. I wanted my own identity and space.”
The moment he smiled, she regretted telling him the truth. She turned and stared out the window at the skeleton of a car sitting on the side of the road. How did it even get there? It had no wheels. Forget tires—it didn’t even have wheel drums.
He captured her hand. “I know what you mean.”
She turned and stared at him. How could he possibly understand? “You don’t have a twin.”
“No, but I had an older brother. He represented everything my parents wanted. They saw me as an accident.”
Instead of pulling her hand away, which she’d intended to do, she squeezed his fingers to provide him comfort. Maybe he did understand how she felt.
“Every smile and compliment went to him. I only got noticed when I broke something.”
She remembered once thinking negative attention would be better than none at all, but she lacked the courage to purposely get into trouble. However, God had over-blessed Trent with courage. “I’m surprised your house remains standing.”
Trent chuckled then his eyes saddened. “I never harmed the house, but I had no problem destroying a valuable antique or two to get my share of attention.” He paused as his black gaze focused on another car skeleton they crawled past. “Then my older brother drowned in the pool. And before you ask, I didn’t do it.”
Anger and resentment rang loud and clear in his voice. She reached over and gripped his hand. “I would never ask such a thing.”
His jaw tensed in residual pain. “My parents did. They stormed into my room, glaring at me with accusing, angry eyes. ‘Did you do this?’ They didn’t relent until I coughed up my alibi.”
Carrie understood the betrayal he must have felt. Nothing hurt more than parents who always saw you in the worst of lights. “Clearly, your parents didn’t know you.”
He continued to stare at the carcass of the abandoned car. Determine to lighten the mood, she added, “You aren’t capable of murder. Otherwise you wouldn’t have so many terrible employees.”
He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.
A shock of electricity ran up her arm and gave her heart a jolt. Had he really just kissed her knuckles a second time?
His gaze returned to her. “Knowing the systems manager purposely hid information from me while padding his budget with friends and family, I might be able to rise to the occasion now.”
She shook her head. “Nope. You’ll only threaten to kill him and get yourself arrested.”
He frowned and changed the topic. “So you got out of your twin’s shadow?”
“Yes, when I headed East for college.” She sighed with pure happiness, remembering her arrival at Columbia. “Without my sister sucking up all my oxygen, for the first time in my life, I could breathe.”
“I envy you. You can’t escape a dead person’s shadow. They follow you wherever you go. ‘Master Thomas was such a nice young boy, but oh, that horrible Trent!’”
“How old were you?”
“Seven.”
She understood his pain. Having no words to soften it, she squeezed his hand.
Trent released a heavy sigh. “I’d thought, once proven innocent of fratricide, things would turn for the better and I’d get more time with my parents.” He snorted. “Be careful what you ask for. I wanted their attention, and boy, did I get it. They decided to turn me into my older brother. Buzz-cut my hair. Made me wear his clothes. The kids at prep school made fun of me when they saw me off campus wearing clothes three years out of fashion. But did my parents care about my humiliation?” He shook his head. “They just wanted their good son back.”
His pain resonated within her, echoing her own. Never had she imagined she and Trent might have similar emotional wounds. “Parents can be unknowingly cruel when they love one child more than the other.”
Scooting closer to her, he nodded. “In my case, I can at least understand why they preferred my brother, but I’m clueless why yours didn’t think you the cat’s pajamas.”
Carrie smiled at his words. He never used phrases like that before she came to work for him. In fact, she had to explain what cat’s pajamas meant, and upon learning, he declared it a stupid phrase. Now, he’d found a use for it.
“How could anyone not love you?” he asked softly.
Her heart stirred with both pain from her past and gratitude he thought them wrong. “When my sister enters a room, no one sees me. Not just my parents, but the teachers, the girls—”
“And the boys? They had to notice you.”
God, she hated rehashing this. “Not really. The first time a boy approached, I got flustered and hopeful, but he just wanted to talk about my sister. What music did she like? Did she have anyone special? Could I put in a good word for him?” Carrie rolled her eyes. “The boys adored my sister.”
“I’ve no doubt, if she looks like you.”
Carrie smiled at yet another compliment. She almost checked her boss’ forehead for a fever. “Clothes and hairstyle matter a great deal to teenagers.”
“Don’t I know it,” he grumbled.
She covered his hand, knowing the kids must have teased him unmercifully for wearing outdated clothes and having an unfashionable haircut.
“I never wore makeup, and preferred baggy clothes. Then I could blame everyone’s preference on superficial stuff rather than believing my sister truly outshined me.” She’d never admitted this anyone. Why did she now?
Trent gathered her into his arms and pulled her tight against his chest. “I take back what I said about hiring your sister. I’d never hire her. Not even if it meant I had to do the work myself.”
Carrie had been about to push out of his hug, which clearly crossed the proper lines between boss and employee, but she couldn’t. By sharing their pain, they’d created a new line. They’d become trauma buddies…friends. She finally had a friend who understood her pain at its deepest level. And she understood his. “Thank you,” she whispered. Not for his promise never to hire her sister, but for bonding with her, for making her feel that she no longer stood alone in the world.
“We are coming to an exit, sir,” Sam announced from the front. “Please buckle up. I will do my best to get us through this in one piece and alive.” To add to the drama, the door locks clicked in unison like a jail door closing.
Trent had somehow shifted all the way to center and instead of returning to his side, he took the trouble to dig out the seatbelt. Once she declared them both secure, the limo sped up.
Trent opened his mouth, no doubt to complain, but shut it upon seeing blocks of burned-out, blackened brick and gray concrete tenement buildings. Angry, clashing-color graffiti and gang tags livened up the ground level walls. But not in a good way.
This street could have starred in an apocalypse movie. Hunched, shabby people slipped into the black gaping holes while others stumbled out. Half starved and possibly dead people lay like discarded lumps of clothes on the trash cluttered sidewalks. She’d never seen this part of New York before, and honestly, she could’ve gone her whole life without experiencing the terror pounding in her heart.
The windows are bulletproof, she reminded herself when a gang of teens pointed at the limo then moved toward it. Instead of slowing to avoid hitting the oncoming kids, Sam increased his speed and headed straight down the road, right at them.
Oh God. Somebody’s going to die!
Chapter 3
Carrie squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the thump of a body against the limo’s hood.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have insisted Sam take a shortcut,” Trent muttered beneath his breath.
She groaned softly. If her boss questioned his actions, then matters must look grim outside. She tensed even further, expecting to hear multiple bodies slam into the car.
Sam braked hard, turned right, and resumed driving a billion miles an hour. If not for the seat belts, she and Trent would’ve sailed into the front seat, and then plastered against the door. To secure her further, Trent protectively placed an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his warm chest.
She focused on the thumping of his heart. It beat once to three of hers. God, how can he be so calm?
Determined to match his bravery, she tried to raise her head, but he wouldn’t let her.
“Just a little longer, I hope. Sam, when do we depart this third world country?”
“Two more blocks, sir.”
“Thank God. You’ve terrified poor Carrie to death.”
Instantly, the limo’s speed dropped.
She turned her head sideways so Sam might be able to hear her words. “Your driving doesn’t frighten me, Sam, the neighborhood does.”
As if on cue, a round of three loud pops sounded, followed by three thunks into her side door. She squeaked like a mouse at the first thunk. By the third, her body shivered in fear.
Trent’s arms tightened around her as the limo picked up speed again. “We’re okay,” he assured her, then his lips pressed against her temple. His calm certainty silenced her tremors.
Having successfully soothed her, he released his outrage upon Sam. “Why the hell did you drive us through here?”
Sam calmly replied as he drove the car at a billion miles an hour, taking corners at deadly speeds. “I warned you the locals might not welcome us.”
“Someone just shot at us?” Trent yelled.
“I’m sure they didn’t mean for you to take it personally, sir.” Sam's nonchalant reply sounded almost surreal.
Maybe none of this is happening. Maybe I fell asleep in the traffic and my dream has gone rogue.
Her heart calmed and she nuzzled closer to Trent, breathing in his masculine scent. Secure in her dream, she confessed something she never would in real life. “You smell good.”
Trent’s arms relaxed a bit and he chuckled. “It’s called Trent. I had the cologne custom developed. They assessed my natural odors and then determined the optimal combination of scents to create my unique smell.”
She snorted. Even in her dreams, he remained the strangest man she’d ever met. If she had all the money in the world, she’d try to end poverty and violence in…whatever hell they’d just driven through, not have some custom designed perfume created so she’d smell really, really good.
She breathed in and smiled. On the other hand, he smelled mind-boggingly delicious. Yet, she couldn’t even say what he smelt like. She detected a touch of musk, sandalwood, and a hint of citrus, but it didn’t come close to defining this complex scent. It was unique, just like her incorrigible boss.
The limo slowed to a c
rawl. “We’ve returned to civilization. “Where did you wish to go, sir?”
“How long until the traffic clears up on the bridge to nowhere?”
Carrie pushed herself off Trent’s chest and studied her surroundings. The street sign said Macomb’s Place, a name she didn’t recognize. Which meant all this scary nonsense had really happened.
“We can no longer take the bridge, sir. I have a one-gunshot-per-day limit. We’ll take the Lincoln tunnel if you don’t mind. However, presently, all tunnels and bridges to New Jersey are closed due to a bomb scare, so may I suggest you catch a Broadway matinee and then have dinner.”
She cringed, expecting Trent to transform into his father and berate the driver, who’d just saved their lives, for wanting him to have an enjoyable wait.
Oddly, he smiled. “Excellent idea.”
She pulled her iPad from her briefcase to find out which shows still had tickets available. Once they got Trent to his show, she’d ask Sam to drop her off at the office so she could discover what disasters awaited her there.
Trent watched her search for a second, then he refocused on Sam. “Hold on. How do you know about a bomb scare?”
Sam pointed to his right ear. “I’m listening to the radio.”
In classic Trent petulance, he asked, “Did it ever cross your mind we might like to listen to the radio too?”
“Sir, I bought this device with my own money because you didn’t like hearing the traffic station, no matter how low I kept it. If you and Miss Hanson wish to listen to music, need I remind you a radio exists right above your head.”
Carrie detected Sam's resentment of abuse after saving their lives. She interrupted Trent before he escalated the situation. “Okay, tickets remain for three musicals, one political off-Broadway show with rave reviews, and the very funny magician comedians, Tall and Tiny.”
He returned his focus on her, slipping his left arm around the back of the seat while he leaned closer, invading the little space she had. Her heart quickened. God, she loved his scent. It made her feel— She shook her head. Get a grip! He’s your boss and he wants to see a Broadway show! “Here’s the review blurbs for each.”
Worst Week Ever (A Long Road to Love) Page 4