Bachelor Boss

by Christie Ridgway

  “Samuel!” her mother scolded. “If that’s your way of encouraging your sister…”

  He waved off the criticism. “Goose knows I only want the best for her. But I’m concerned, Mom. We’re all concerned.” He sighed. “Goose, I’m sorry if I seem like I’m coming down hard on you. That’s not my intention.”

  “I know.” Lucy sighed, too. This was the curse of being the youngest sibling. Your family remembered you as the five-year-old who couldn’t spell, and then it didn’t help that you didn’t grow up and instantly become a corporate clone of the rest of them. She knew they loved her. She loved their hypersuccessful, hyper-judgmental selves right back.

  She only wished they’d trust her to find her own way to her own kind of success. Wherever that was. Whatever that was. She eyed the newspaper her brother had cast aside and then crossed over to pick it up. Accounting positions started on page P-2.

  The fine print swam before her eyes and she closed them, picturing herself spending the next thirty years inside the black-and-gray world of a classified ad. Orderly, colorless, one column after another after another after another. Just like accounting. Why had she studied it anyhow? Because her family thought it was a good idea.

  Bleh. But she forced her attention to return to the pages. “There’s probably a position just made for me in here,” she said, her voice bright. “I graduated with honors. I have accounting experience in different types of businesses.”

  “Good spin, sis. Better than ‘I’ve changed jobs as often as some people change hairstyles.’”

  She ignored her attorney brother’s latest attack.

  “How much longer will you be working for Carlo?” her mom asked.

  Oh, that name had to come up again. Lucy left the dreary world of black-and-white and set sail on yet more memories. Swallowing a snicker, she remembered Carlo’s surprise when she’d sprayed him with the chocolate whipped cream. Wouldn’t that be fun to try again? Next time, she wouldn’t use her finger to clean his naked skin of the fluffy stuff. Next time, it would be her tongue, and she could well imagine his little jerk of reaction as she stroked it across his bare pectoral…

  But there wouldn’t be a next time, right?

  Or could there be a next time?

  Aaargh. In bed that morning, Lucy had been worried about his reaction to last night. Now she saw that she should have been worrying about her own, too. What did she want to happen next?

  She didn’t know what she wanted to happen next. That’s why she’d cut off the discussion this morning. She’d insisted to him it was all in fun, but was it a single night of fun? Is that what he wanted? Is that what she wanted? She couldn’t think beyond those memories of his deep kisses and his tender touch.

  Ms. Sutton, I think it’s time to scream.

  “Earth to Goose. Earth to Goose.”

  Lucy swam free of the latest wave of remembered longing to hear her brother’s pestering voice. Lowering the newspaper, she frowned at him. “What now?” She didn’t want to come back to earth. Putting her feet on the ground meant coming to terms with the new situation with Carlo.

  And she was so confused about that.

  She noticed the whole family was staring at her again. “What? What? ”

  Jason looked over at Sam. “I didn’t think it was possible, but she’s become goosier than ever. I don’t think she’s heard a word we’ve been saying.”

  “About what?” Lucy demanded.

  “About what you’re doing at McMillan & Milano. Dad got wind that you’ve taken over some project involving the Street Beat festival. Is that a good idea?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know,” Jason answered. “But you’re trained as an accountant. Should you be involving yourself with a music festival? I’ve heard about Claudia Cox and word has it she’s not known for her patience or her generosity. You don’t want to screw up the job when it’s Carlo who will pay the price.”

  Lucy’s insecurities slithered out of the holes in her psyche like eels from coral-reef caves. She was trained as an accountant and had never loved her duties in that kind of work—even though she was good at it. Why did she presume that her Street Beat responsibilities would go smoothly? She was an accountant. A numbers person.

  “Maybe…maybe you’re right,” she heard herself say. “Carlo…” The festival wasn’t something to take lightly. It was his work, his reputation, his business. What if she did screw up? She licked her lips. “Carlo…”

  And then it was Carlo’s own voice that finished the sentence she was trying to form. “Is very satisfied with everything Lucy’s done.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  There was a flurry of greetings as Carlo joined them on the patio. He glanced over at Lucy. “Your mother called a little bit ago and invited me over for brunch,” he said, replying to the surprise that was surely written all over her face. “I guess she forgot to tell you. I caught a ride with Elise and John. Maybe you’ll give me a lift to my car later?”

  “Oh. Um, sure.” Of course. They’d left his Lexus yesterday at the office when she’d driven them to the beach. Had that only been yesterday that they’d been at the beach, and then at the hospital, and then in his bed? Her gaze skittered away from his.

  Don’t make a fool of yourself, Lucy. But it wasn’t easy facing him for the first time in front of her family. If her cheeks had been red before, they had to be glowing scarlet now, and she didn’t want anyone guessing there was anything romantic going on between the two of them.

  Because of course there wasn’t.

  Last night had just been…

  Fun. She’d labeled it that, not him, and she refused to make more of it now. And it was private fun, so she had to get it together or one of her nosy siblings was bound to figure out something was up and embarrass the heck out of her over it.

  Or worse, embarrass Carlo.

  She managed to look him in the eye. “Do you know how Germaine is doing this morning?”

  “Very well. Dot’s already taken her home. I’ll visit this afternoon.”

  “Which means you have plenty of time now to tell us everything, Carlo,” Sam called out. “We can’t count on Goose to give us the real skinny when it comes to her employment adventures. How’s our Ms. Sutton handling her job responsibilities?”

  Ms. Sutton.

  Lucy’s gaze jumped to Carlo again, she couldn’t help herself. He was studying his glass of OJ, but as if he felt her looking at him, he lifted his tangle of dark lashes and stared right back.

  Ms. Sutton, it’s time to scream.

  “Carlo?” Sam prodded. “I swear, you’re as distracted as Lucy’s been all morning. If I didn’t know better—”

  They were spared the end of that sentence by the arrival of Elise and John, who’d been delayed in the kitchen by a coffee ring they’d brought and had cut into wedges. Now they were ready to pass the pieces around.

  “Sweets?” Elise smiled up at Carlo as she offered him a plate. He smiled back down at her and it struck Lucy, for the millionth time in her life, how perfect her sister was with her smooth, Grace Kelly hair, her long legs, her slender figure—she’d already run a 10K that morning! Add to that the fact that she’d recently received yet another big promotion at work.

  It wasn’t Elise’s fault that males had always been drawn to her, despite her unswerving devotion to her husband. Who wouldn’t be attracted to such loveliness?

  And at the moment, Carlo looked as if he couldn’t pull his gaze away from her. Lucy wished it didn’t make her feel so stupid and glum. Not to mention short.

  A plate of the strudel-y pastry didn’t make her lousy mood go away. It just made her feel more dowdy than ever. Neither did her sister’s sharp look. “What’s the matter, Luce?” she said, keeping her voice below the rest of the conversation on the patio.

  Lucy kept her gaze wide-eyed and innocent. “Not a thing. Why do you ask?”

  Elise frowned. “You—”

  Jason’s loud voice drowned o
ut her sister’s next remark. “C’mon, Carlo. You’ve had orange juice, you’ve had pastry, and Mom’s famous egg-and-potato bake is on its way. It’s only fair you provide a little entertainment.”

  “Gee, Jase,” he answered. “I left my accordion at home. Maybe you can play us a tune on your harmonica.”

  “Funny,” her brother said. “But I just told you what I’m looking for. Give us the dirt on our Goose. Surely she’s done something lately to liven up your days.”

  Lucy felt her face freeze. His days…and his nights.

  “Yeah,” her other brother chimed in. “We can never figure out why she’s played musical desk chairs—”

  “Three companies in as many years, Sam,” Lucy heard herself protest. “It’s not as if…”

  But she broke off on a sigh. The way the other Sutton siblings were looking at her she knew that to them, three different jobs in such a short time might as well be thirteen. They just could not comprehend that someone in their family wouldn’t land in their dream position after graduation and then succeed beyond everyone’s wildest expectations.

  “Never mind,” she muttered, looking away from them. “You guys won’t understand.”

  Nor would they let up. Maybe if their parents hadn’t gone off to the kitchen with Elise’s John to put the finishing touches on brunch, her brothers would have abandoned the subject. But they were still looking to have fun at her expense. Hard to believe they were over thirty.

  They turned back to her boss. “Tell us how she does it,” Sam insisted. “How does she sabotage all her employment opportunities? Does she spill coffee over her keyboard? Take pictures of her naked butt on the copy machine? Sharpen the pens instead of the pencils?”

  How many times had she told them she’d never been fired? They never believed her. Lucy jammed her hands in the pockets of her jeans and pretended to ignore their conversation by inspecting a hibiscus bush on the edge of the patio. But the long silence coming from Carlo had her turning to take a peek at him.

  He was frowning at her brothers. “You two make me want to call my little sister Franny.”

  Her male siblings exchanged glances. “Huh?”

  “I think I need to drop to my knees for some serious groveling in case I’ve ever been even half as obnoxious to her as you are to Lucy.”

  Sam sat straighter in his chair, his expression shocked. “Wait a sec—”

  “We’re not obnoxious to Goose,” her other brother interrupted. “We care about Goose. Who told her that her front tire needed air?”

  “I leant her forty bucks two weeks ago.”

  “Which I paid back to you the next day,” Lucy said through her teeth. “The ATM was broken.”

  If her brothers hadn’t looked so honestly bewildered, she might have been angrier at them. If she didn’t know they’d take a bullet for her and didn’t see how their teasing got so out of hand, she might have given them a dose of their own medicine. As it was, she just wanted to knock their two blockheads together and call it a day.

  “Anyway, what does that have to do with shedding light on Lucy and her work habits?” Really, she supposed by definition a lawyer was tenacious, but Jason was the type who never let go of anything. “My bet’s on the naked-butt copying.”

  Carlo shook his head. “There’s been no naked—” He broke off, cleared his throat, started again. “She’s done absolutely nothing like what you’re talking about.”

  “You don’t have to cover for her. We love the little screwup just as she is.” Sam beamed a smile full of that emotion at her even as she shook her head. Cripes. Nothing like ruining her image around her boss. Apparently they’d known Carlo for too long to even think of that.

  Carlo’s arms crossed over his chest. “You guys are unbelievable. I’m not covering anything. As a matter of fact, Lucy’s an exemplary employee. Besides all the regular secretarial duties she stepped in to perform so ably, she’s impressed the hell out of one of my clients and has taken on an additional project of her own for Street Beat. So you two had better lay off Lucy or I’ll be forced to remind you what my fist feels like against your faces. We might have been twelve the last time we went a round or two, but I assure you I’m in better shape now.”

  Sam and Jason stared at Carlo, dumbfounded again and this time completely shaken from their descent into adolescence. Elise murmured, “That’s the longest speech I’ve heard him make in the past six years.” Another heartbeat passed, then the three Sutton siblings turned as one to look at Lucy, something that looked dangerously like speculation sparkling in their eyes.

  Uh-oh. Though half of her wanted to dissolve in tears and the other half wanted to kiss Carlo silly in gratitude for his support, the suspicion on her brothers’ and sister’s faces called for something else entirely. There was no way she wanted them to figure out there was anything more than employer-to-employee respect between herself and the dark-haired man on the patio.

  So she did what she could to draw them off the scent.

  Throwing up her hands, she ran over to her temporary boss and flung herself against his chest. “My hero!” she cried out dramatically. His arms automatically closed around her back, making her want to cry even more.

  What a sap she was. But she couldn’t, just couldn’t, let him or anyone else know how much his defense meant to her. Then they might make assumptions about how much he meant to her. So instead, she made a big play of looking over her shoulder at Jason. “Can I borrow that forty again?”

  Puzzled, he drew out his wallet. “Sure.”

  She stuffed the two bills into Carlo’s breast pocket. “Like I said, fella, there’s more where that came from anytime you can get these two arrogant juvenile idiots off my back.” With a big wink, she sashayed out of his embrace.

  The Lucy Show seemed to satisfy her brothers—after another moment they laughed at her like she’d hoped they would. Then the conversation moved on to sports and Lucy was able to retreat to her hibiscus bush again.

  She blew out a long breath. That had been close. One of the very reasons Carlo had not wanted to give in to their mutual attraction was because it would make events like this awkward. So it definitely would have been a disaster if this morning-after was marred by her family’s intrusion into what she and Carlo hadn’t figured out yet for themselves.

  Fun, Lucy, she reminded herself. You did figure it out, or at least you told him you did. You told him it was a night of fun and not to make any more of it than that.

  It wasn’t any more than that.

  Still, she wanted to keep the events of the previous night private.

  “Lucy!” Her sister hissed her name.

  She gave a guilty start and turned to face Elise. “What?” On the other side of the patio, the men were still talking among themselves. “What’s the matter?”

  “You’re the matter,” Elise said, her voice almost a whisper. “I know where you were last night.”

  “I told you. At the hospital, and when I called I also told you that I didn’t know if I’d make it home before morning.” All true.

  “Don’t give me that.” Elise slid a glance over her shoulder, then pinned Lucy with her gaze. “You were with Carlo.”

  “Of course. I told you. We were together when the call came about Germaine—”

  “You were with Carlo and you and he had sex.”

  The last word gave Lucy another guilty start. “I don’t know why you think—”

  “It’s written all over your face, and Lucy, he’s going to break your heart.”

  She swallowed. “My heart’s not involved. It was just…just…for fun.”

  Her sister rolled her eyes.

  It was just…just…for fun. Had she really said that? Now it sounded stupid to her own ears. Who had sex with a long-time family friend for fun?

  “Lucy, how could you be so foolish? He’s not interested in anything long-term. You’re going to have to get that through your head.”

  Lucy’s heart fell like a stone to the pit of
her stomach. Her sister was right. Carlo wasn’t interested in anything long-term because Elise, the love of his life, was standing right in front of her.

  Gazing at her sister’s lovely face, she thought of why he’d looked so sadly at Lucy this morning. She’d known how he felt about Elise. And in the light of day, he’d probably regretted waking up in bed with the shorter, bubbly-yet-bumbling version of the woman he’d always pine for.

  * * *

  If Carlo had expected to find the drive from the Sutton family home to the McMillan & Milano offices uncomfortable, he was quickly proved wrong. After squeezing into the passenger seat of Lucy’s car, he had to do nothing more than listen while she pattered about some story her father had told them over brunch.

  It was natural. Easy. As if everything between them was fine. Unchanged.

  He rubbed his palms against his thighs and tried to find a few more inches for his long legs. Wasn’t this every single man’s dream come true? A spectacular night in the sack without any resulting changes in the status quo.

  Yeah. Every single man’s dream, and since Lucy herself had proposed it would go like this—that it was nothing more and nothing less than “fun”—then he had no reason to do anything but sit back and breathe through it.

  Still, when she paused, he figured it was only fair he do his part in keeping the easy conversation going. “What do you have planned for the rest of your day off?” he asked.

  Her sweet mouth turned up at the corners in a little smile. “If you must know, Mr. Milano…”

  Mr. Milano. The words fell like the clunk of the other shoe into the middle of the car’s sudden quiet.

  Mr. Milano. A dozen images bombarded Carlo’s brain. Lucy, naked and stretched out before him, the pale curves of her breasts topped by nipples he’d made hard and wet with his mouth. Her slender wrists held gently in one of his hands as she squirmed against his mattress. The perfect, glistening shell-pink flesh he’d discovered between her thighs.

  He barely held back his groan. “Lucy…Lucy, about last night—”

  “Please. Let’s not talk about it.”