Giving Up the Boss

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Giving Up the Boss Page 6

by Victoria Davies


  “Marc sent a briefing on the deal he’s trying to close with the Australian team. We should probably start there today.”

  “Or I suppose we could take a helicopter tour of the city. Billionaires do extravagant things like that, right?”

  “Then there’s the Randal project we should make sure is on track,” she said, ignoring him.

  “A boat ride along the river? I wonder if I can rent a gondola this side of the Atlantic.”

  “We should also clamp down on this programmer temporary hire so every department doesn’t turn up at the door wanting more resources.”

  He grinned. “You get this is only making me more interested in you, right?”

  She leveled an even gaze at him. “I will call HR on you.”

  “You kissed me, remember? I think I’m the wronged party here.”

  “Not even. I’ve been—”

  “Eying me like I’m candy.”

  “Keeping a professional line between us for years.”

  “Good thing I don’t remember it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Good to see your stubbornness didn’t disappear with your memories.”

  “God-given, it seems.”

  She held out her hand. “Phone please.”

  Arching a brow, he handed it over.

  Jackson had never been territorial about his phone. Often, she managed his emails and messages when he was in meetings and didn’t have a free hand. Which meant she knew far more about his files than he thought. Clicking into his gallery, she pulled up a photo of his most recent flavor of the month.

  “Her name is Jessica and I’m sure she’d drop everything to go out with you again if you need someone to flirt with,” she said tartly, passing the phone back over.

  He glanced down at the gorgeous redhead smiling at the camera. “Beautiful,” he said.

  A sharp pain shot through her chest and she did her best to ignore it.

  Breathe. This is normal. It’s what you wanted. Shift his focus to someone he can actually pursue.

  “Exactly,” she forced herself to say. “There’s a few other photos in there, too. I was serious when I said you didn’t need me.”

  He swiped through a few pics in his gallery before setting the phone down. “Very pretty,” he agreed. “Too bad for them you’re far more intriguing.”

  “I’m really not.”

  “Agree to disagree.”

  “Can we please just focus on work?” she asked, ignoring the pleasure coursing through her at his words.

  He sighed. “Yes, but only because you’re a captive audience while this amnesia wrecks my life and I know where to find you to wear you down.”

  “You can try,” she said, flipping through some papers. “But I’ll let you in on a secret. I’m just as stubborn as you are.”

  His teeth flashed as he grinned. “Challenge accepted.”

  “Sign here,” she said, tossing a contract at him.

  Still smiling, he did as she requested.

  Don’t get sucked in. His interest won’t last. Stand strong.

  And deny herself the one thing she’d wanted for years.

  …

  Jackson rubbed the bridge of his nose. All the reading and staring at computer screens today was making his ever-present headache worse.

  Lori glanced up from her work and frowned. Fishing into her purse, she handed him a bottle of aspirin without a word and went back to her computer.

  He stared down at the painkillers he hadn’t asked for but wouldn’t refuse.

  The perfect assistant.

  And she seemed determined to stay that way.

  Which means you should leave her alone.

  What was he thinking, making the moves on anyone when he was days out of the hospital? Hell, his hand was barely functional. He’d practiced signing his name with his left hand, but it was little more than chicken scrawl on this contracts.

  Lori doesn’t mind if I’m a hand short.

  He bit back a groan. What was it about her? She was right about everything. It seemed liked she always knew what to do, from what he’d observed.

  That should annoy me.

  But it didn’t. Nothing about her annoyed him and he had the feeling that was rare.

  When she’d showed him the picture of the woman he’d obviously been seeing, he’d stared at the drop-dead beautiful face and felt absolutely nothing. Looking at his assistant, however, had visions of their kiss filling his head.

  Not that he could remember any other kisses, but even so, he was sure they’d pale in comparison.

  There’s just something about her.

  Something he couldn’t put his finger on. An inch in his brain that told him she was far more important than the women in his phone ever could be.

  Women who apparently hadn’t even noticed he hadn’t contacted them in days. Not that they’d cared enough to check in, either.

  Superficial relationships.

  Was that all he had?

  With everyone except Lori.

  He glanced at her again, popping the painkillers. Why wasn’t he dating her? What had been the barrier when he’d had his memories?

  Did I really not want her before?

  It seemed inconceivable.

  I was a different man.

  He wondered which version Lori preferred.

  With an inner sigh, he turned his attention back to his work. She’d told him he used to love days like this. Ones filled with paperwork and research. Now, however, he wanted to run in the other direction. There must be more to his life than this. What did he do for fun? Or did he just not have any?

  The door banged open, admitting a flustered-looking man. “Jackson, where the hell have you been?”

  I recognize that face. Think of the chart. Who is it?

  His brain ran through the list of possibilities before landing on the right match. “Will,” he greeted, standing. “Good to see you.”

  “Just wait till I’m done with you,” his VP said, striding forward. “You haven’t been answering your phone all weekend.”

  He lifted his braced wrist. “Hospital.”

  That stopped some of Will’s bluster. “What happened?”

  “Racquetball accident.”

  “Good thing the ball didn’t hit your head.”

  If only you knew.

  “I’ve had to take it easy the past few days. What’s going on?”

  Surprised flashed in the other man’s eyes. “You don’t know?”

  Misstep. Try again.

  “I’m aware of the situation. I meant, is there more you need to add in person?”

  Will dropped into one of the chairs on the other side of his desk, so he took his seat as well. He noted the other man didn’t even glance at Lori as if she didn’t exist.

  She really is just a shadow.

  His shadow.

  And it bothered him that others viewed her that way.

  “What is this I keep hearing about HynCor?”

  Handle this carefully.

  “They want our market share. We need to be bigger and stronger to survive this threat.”

  “Which means what?”

  “Marc is looking into options for us.”

  “You didn’t want to handle this personally?”

  I can barely walk to an elevator. High stakes corporate mergers would be impossible.

  “I have utter confidence in my brother.”

  “That makes one of us.”

  “Marc is in constant contact with Jackson and speaks on his behalf. He’s not acting alone. He’ll get the information we need,” Lori put in.

  “I don’t need to hear the cheerleader version,” Will said, not even looking in her direction.

  He bit back a growl. “Lori has been working equally hard on this. I value her input,” he snapped before he could call back the words.

  Shock flashed across both Will and Lori’s faces.

  All right, looks like I don’t stand up for her. What the hell kind of man was I?r />
  Trying to recoup the slip, he changed the topic. “I’m expecting an update from Marc tomorrow. I’ll brief you then.”

  “Please,” Will agreed.

  “Anything else you need? It’s a busy day,” he lied.

  “Yes. I hear we’re hiring some help for R&D today.”

  That decision will haunt me.

  “Have you looked at the projected revenue from that project? Because I have. I weighed the cost of a delay versus a couple temporary contracts and you know what I decided?” He leaned back. “The software will make us another fortune. Why would we cut corners now when we’re so close?”

  “Fair enough,” Will said, nodding. “You’re the boss.”

  “Yes, I am.” Apparently.

  “I’ll leave you to it, then. Let me know what Marc says.”

  “Once we hear tomorrow, I’ll send you an update,” Lori said quietly from behind him.

  “Great.” Will didn’t even glance at her as he left.

  She’s invisible in my world.

  Had she been invisible to him, too?

  “Good job,” she said when the door closed behind Will. “It was like you were your old self. Mostly.”

  “All thanks to your coaching.”

  She smiled slightly. “Maybe it’s just ingrained in you. The memory loss took your history, but it can’t steal your personality.”

  Is that true?

  He wondered. He’d playacted his way through the day, pretending to be a character that was alien to him. What happened if he never got his memories back and he was stuck pretending for the rest of his life?

  He glanced at Lori. He didn’t know which man he should hope to be. The cold CEO who didn’t give a damn about anything but business?

  Or his new self who couldn’t look away from the woman in front of him?

  Chapter Eight

  “I can’t believe we pulled that off,” Jackson said when they were safely in his town car.

  “I know the feeling,” she said. Part of her couldn’t believe they’d gotten through the day without anyone realizing what they were doing.

  Jackson had been incredible. She’d only had to jump in a few times, when he’d signaled her by running his hands through his hair. The power of his brain continued to astonish her. Surely another man would not have been able to pull off this charade so expertly.

  “One day down,” she said.

  “Far too many to go,” he replied with a sigh.

  “Just relax this evening. You’ve earned it.”

  He glanced her way. “I should study and we both know it.”

  She shrugged. “If you want to play hooky for an hour or two, who’s going to know?”

  “I’ve got a strict handler these days,” he teased.

  “Maybe I can put in a good word with her.”

  He flashed a grin and reached over to rap on the divider to get their driver’s attention.

  “Sir?” the chauffeur said as the divider slid down without a sound.

  “We’re going to make a stop before heading home.”

  “We are?” she asked.

  “Where to, sir?”

  “Somewhere with food.”

  “There are several five-star restaurants in the area that I can—”

  “No,” he cut off the driver. “Not five-star. Something cheap, fast, and in a part of town no one will recognize me.”

  Lori saw the driver’s brows rise in the rearview mirror.

  “Of course, sir. Give me a couple minutes and I’ll find somewhere appropriate.”

  Jackson sat back in his seat as the divider went back up.

  “What was that about?” she asked.

  “So far, my entire world consists of the hospital, my house, and the company.” He shrugged. “I’d rather see something new than just head home.”

  And everything in the city is new again.

  Her heart twisted in her chest. He’d pulled off the impossible today. If he needed a break to gobble down some fast-food, she sure as hell wasn’t going to stand in his way.

  “Besides,” he said, pinning her with his gaze. “If you won’t let me take you out to dinner, this is the next best thing.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m in the same car as you. Where you go, I go. This isn’t a dinner date. It’s low-key kidnapping.”

  “Let’s hope the food makes up for it, then.”

  “I could point out you have a personal chef on speed dial. We could ask him to come in and whip something up.”

  “I don’t want fancy sauces and exorbitant cuts of meat.”

  You always did before.

  Jackson didn’t allow himself many liberties, but he’d always loved good food.

  How different a man is he now?

  Ignoring the unsettling question, she stared out her window and watched as the high-end stores around the financial district were swapped for the colorful signage of the city’s Little Italy. Bypassing the more expensive, standard go-to restaurants of the area, Jackson’s driver took them down a side street she’d never noticed before. He parked in front of what could only be called a hole-in-the-wall location.

  “Best gnocchi in the city, in my opinion,” the driver said as the divider came down once more. “When would you like me to pick you up, sir?”

  “Give us an hour,” she said. “We still have work to do tonight.”

  “All work and no play, Lori,” Jackson said with sigh.

  “Just go get your pasta.” She shooed him out of the car, tossing a commiserating smile to their driver. “I’ll get you a to-go order,” she promised before stepping out onto the street.

  “I love it,” Jackson declared, heading for the door.

  Shaking her head, she followed her billionaire boss into a restaurant that looked like it could only sit a handful of people comfortably.

  The interior of the building was as quaint as she’d predicted. A few tables lay before them, red tablecloths tossed over the wood surfaces and dripping white candles flickering in the atmospheric light. A waitress appeared in seconds to seat them near the window, handing plastic protected menus to each of them.

  “Do I like pasta?” he asked, glancing at the menu.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Last time you had it, you flew in the ingredients directly from Italy, but yes, you like pasta.”

  “What else do I like?”

  She shrugged. “Fast cars, overpriced art, property in exotic locations. The usual for men of your means.”

  “And what about you? What do you like?”

  You.

  She closed her menu. “I like coffee over tea and red wine over white.”

  “Ah,” he nodded. “I feel so much closer to you. Now the mystery is gone.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What does it matter what I like? I’m your employee and that’s all I’ll ever be.”

  Blue eyes caught hers. “Maybe we really will never be more than colleagues,” he said, the teasing dropping from his tone. “But even if that’s true, I’d still want to know you.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “I’m not that interesting.”

  “You are to me.”

  Don’t say these things to me.

  She wasn’t sure she had the willpower to resist him when he did.

  Luckily, the arrival of their waitress saved her.

  “I’ll take the bolognese,” Jackson said, holding out his menu to the waitress. “And two glasses of your best red.”

  “Gnocchi,” Lori chimed in. “And one extra order to go, please.”

  “I’ll be right back with your drinks,” the waitress said, clearing their menus before disappearing into the back.

  She looked around the empty restaurant, wishing for some nearby distractions.

  “Tell me something about you,” Jackson said, leaning his arms on the table as he moved forward. “Anything.”

  “I hate peas.”

  “Anything else.”

  She sighed. “It’s not like my life is anywhere as interes
ting as yours. I come from a great family. They live out east and I try to visit a few times a year. I have an older brother who used to like playing tricks on me as a child. He once cut all the hair off my Barbies and tried to set me up for it.”

  “I hope you got even.”

  “I painted his Batman toys pink with my mom’s nail polish.”

  Jackson laughed, and she had to remind herself to breathe. Usually he was reserved, shouldering every problem in the world on his own shoulders. It was rare that she ever saw this side of him. Relaxed, enjoying himself…happy.

  Was this part of him always there, buried deep inside?

  The waitress came back with two wine glasses and she gratefully accepted hers, taking a long drink.

  “Liquid courage?” he purred.

  “I need it around you.”

  “I’m not that difficult, am I?”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Does that mean I’m getting under your skin, my unflappable assistant?”

  You’ve done that for years.

  But it had never felt this way before. She’d never been so unsure of her footing as she had been since he looked up at her in the hospital bed.

  She took another sip to buy herself time.

  “How did you end up moving out here?” he asked instead, clearly taking pity on her.

  “My family lives in a little town and my dreams were…bigger.”

  She’d never felt like she’d fit in where she’d grown up. Her girlfriends in school had been content with country life. They’d like the community and the familiar routine but she had always wanted something different. She’d dreamed of city lights and the hustle and bustle of the business world. She’d wanted to make something of herself, so she’d come looking for an adventure.

  And found Jackson.

  “Did those dreams ever pan out?” he asked.

  “Working with you allows me to have an impact on global decisions. It’s a far cry from what I thought I’d be doing when I was getting back at my brother.”

  “Funny to think how easily it would have been to have missed each other,” he mused. “If you’d stayed in your hometown or if you’d picked a different city to move to, I’d be screwed right now.”

  No, if I’d gone somewhere else, none of this would have happened and you’d be yourself. The company would be safe and HynCor would be crushed.

 

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