Giving Up the Boss

by Victoria Davies

  Instead they were all hanging by a thread. Put that way, she was quite literally the worst thing to ever happen to him.

  I’ll make it right.

  “I wonder what I dreamed of being,” he said, glancing around the restaurant. “Don’t suppose I ever mentioned it?”

  “Sorry,” she replied, shaking her head.

  “Maybe I wanted to be an astronaut.” He rested his chin in his hand. “Or a pilot.”

  “Or maybe you wanted to take after your father and run the company.”

  He smiled. “I would have been a very boring child if that’s true.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t fill in more of your personal past.”

  He shrugged. “Seems fitting. I didn’t know anything about yours. We may have spent every minute of the day together, but in some ways, we clearly weren’t close.”

  She jerked back, stung, only to realize he had a point.

  Was I in love with a man I didn’t know?

  How was that possible?

  But if she’d known him the way she thought she had, wouldn’t she have more information to give him? More pieces of his blank puzzle to help him stitch together some semblance of a past?

  “We’re private people,” she said.

  “Mm-hmm,” he agreed. “But see, what I don’t understand is why I would have wanted us to be that way with each other.”

  “I’m just an employee.”

  “You’re a hell of a lot more than that, and you know it.”

  Her gaze flew to his even as she wanted to deny the words.

  I can’t be more. We’re on a ticking clock.

  And eventually, no matter how hard she tried to avoid it, that clock was going to strike twelve.

  …

  It had been a mad day of trying to be someone he wasn’t. Or at least, someone he didn’t remember being. His mind had been a whirl of memorized facts and faces, he’d double- and triple-checked every word he’d uttered, gone over every decision a dozen times.

  But right now, in a middle-of-nowhere restaurant with the only person to know the truth, the weight on his shoulders drained away.

  Jackson sipped his wine, not even registering the flavor profile. It didn’t matter. The only thing that did was currently sitting uncomfortably in front of him.

  She doesn’t like personal questions. She’s hard to know.

  And yet, every newly awakened instinct within him said she was worth the effort.

  Who are you to me?

  She might think the answer was just his assistant, but he wasn’t anywhere near as sure.

  “If you had to guess right now,” she said, “what do you think you dreamed of as a child?”

  Shifting the focus back on me.

  He had a suspicion she did that a lot with him. Had the other him never noticed? Or had he just not cared?

  “What do I think I would have been?” he asked, playing along. “That’s easy. A cowboy.”

  She laughed, making his chest tighten. “I can’t imagine you on a horse in one of your thousand-dollar suits.”

  “Until I’m shown evidence to the contrary, I choose to believe I’m an excellent rider. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I once tried out for a rodeo.”

  “Yeah?” she said, crossing her arms on the table to lean toward him. “And what happened then?”

  “The usual. I fell in love with a rodeo clown. She broke my heart, took my horse, and I returned to the big city a disgrace to my family, never to strike out into the wild, wild West again.”

  “Or,” she suggested, “you studied like a madman all through high school, went to a fancy college to get an impressive degree, and only ever rode horses from the stables at your summer home.”

  “My fake past is way more exciting than your fake past.”

  “My version is probably a lot closer to the truth.”

  “Maybe.” He glanced back around the tiny restaurant. “But if my memories never return I can be anything I want. I can have whatever past I choose.”

  Fingers touched his. Jerking back to her, he realized she’d reached out to take his hand. “Your memories will come back,” she told him, her eyes earnest. “You will remember your real history. And when you do, it will be better than any fake story could ever be.”

  He squeezed his hand around hers. “I hope I remember more about you.”

  She laughed lightly. “I hope you remember enough of your MBA to save us all from HynCor.”

  Deflecting again.

  Was that why they’d never moved beyond work colleagues? Had the other him thought she wasn’t worth the effort to unravel?

  Moron.

  Anyone could see a woman like Lori was worth the wait.

  But then what? What do I have to offer right now except a broken shell of someone she used to know?

  He was damaged goods. A man with half a brain. He couldn’t afford any distractions if he was going to be convincing in his role. And Lori was one hell of a distraction.

  “I might have to guess at your past,” she said, cutting into his thoughts. “But I do know your future.”

  “Hit me,” he said.

  “Marc will get the alliance we need. You’ll save the company and one day soon, you’ll wake up with all your memories. You’ll use them to create the most powerful telecom empire in the country and when you take your customary one-week vacation, you’ll go ride horses over your sprawling acreage up north. And best of all, you’ll be happy and successful for the rest of your days.”

  She squeezed his hand before slipping hers from his grasp.

  “And you?” he asked. “Where do you fit into my future?”

  A shadow passed over her expression before those hazel eyes dropped away from his. “I’ll be there cheering you on, of course.”

  “As my assistant.”

  She looked away. “Yeah.”

  What am I missing?

  But their food arrived before he could probe further. Leaning back, he reached for his wine as the waitress laid out their food and made small talk with Lori.

  Just wait. I will figure you out.

  Because of all the current mysteries in his life, Lori was by far the most fascinating.

  Chapter Nine

  “I’m not a miracle worker and I can’t force him to talk to you,” Lori said into the phone as she lay across her guest bed. “I don’t know why he doesn’t want to call you, Marc, but I’m all out of magic wands to wave.”

  Marc sighed on the other end. “It’s because I wasn’t there when he woke up. My brother can hold a grudge like no one’s business.”

  She thought of the uncertainly she’d seen in Jackson’s eyes when she’d told him she was going to get an update from Marc tonight. Longing had flashed in his eyes before he’d informed her he wanted to look over the plan for tomorrow instead.

  “I don’t think that’s it,” she said.

  “I know my brother. He’s always been stubborn.”

  “That’s certainly true.”

  His chuckle was rusty. “Tell me how he’s been doing.”

  “Amazing,” she said truthfully. “He’s made it through a few days at the office, and no one has noticed he’s not himself. There were a few slips, but he always recovers quickly. Our secret is safe.”

  “I expected no less.”

  Well, I sure did.

  She hadn’t expected him to take to his old job so easily. Even without his memories he had a knack for business, making decisions on the fly that aligned with what the old Jackson would do. Sometimes they were a little more liberal, a tad riskier, but he managed to get through each day so she wasn’t complaining.

  “When are you coming home?” she asked. One week had been hard enough. Surely his talks must be wrapping up.

  He sighed. “Things haven’t been going as smoothly as I’d hoped. I need another week here at least.”

  “What? How long can negotiations last?”

  “We’re talking about an international merger to help us undercu
t HynCor. There’s enough billions involved to make your eyes cross. It’s not like I can rush this.”

  “I know,” she said. “But Jackson needs you, too.”

  “He hasn’t needed me since he was twelve years old.”

  She sucked in a breath. The words were said in an even, off-handed tone that made her heart throb. “He’s hurt and alone,” she said quietly. “I think you’d be surprised.”

  “He knows how to reach me. I even got an impersonal email this week asking for updates.”

  “Put yourself in his shoes. Email is easier than facing someone you’ve grown up with and showing them a stranger.”

  “I don’t care about that.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe he does.”

  There was another long sigh. “I can’t do anything from here. If he won’t talk to me, I can’t make him.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” she promised.

  “Please. How is the rest of it going? Does he know you quit?”

  She sat on the edge of her bed in the large, white guestroom. “No.”

  “Ah. I assume that means he doesn’t know about his accident.”

  “Do you want me to tell him?” she asked, her voice thin. “I didn’t think he’d want me helping him if he knew.”

  There was a long pause. “Before, I would have said…” He stopped. “But before doesn’t matter, does it? With me on the other side of the world, he needs you. Keep your secret.”

  Something twisted inside her. She’d half been hoping he’d tell her to confess the truth. That Jackson would forgive her.

  But it seemed even his brother didn’t believe that.

  “Thanks,” she said dully.

  “However this plays out, I’ll make sure you get an excellent parachute at the end of it.”

  “Throw money at the problem to make it go away. You Sinclairs are a prize.”

  “That was snippy. Coming out of your shell, Ms. Professional-Assistant?”

  “Running over your boss will do that to a girl.”

  He laughed. “Is it awful to say I’m glad it was you who mowed down my only family? This would have been a worse nightmare without you by his side.”

  “We’re not through yet. I’ve rearranged his schedule as best I could and sent our regrets to the hospital benefit dinner this weekend. That’s one problem you can throw money at. Give a donation and they’ll forget Jackson wasn’t there.”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “He has to be there. We need him out front and public, smiling at the cameras. Members of the board will be going. He needs to be charming and confident to stomp any rumors that we’re taking on water.”

  “But all those eyes. If he slips it will be very public.”

  “It’s a risk we’ll have to take. He has to go.”’

  Which means he has to take a date.

  The gorgeous redhead from Jackson’s phone rose in her mind.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “Noted. Now do it.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Yep. You are still a Sinclair Enterprises employee and I outrank you. Get him to that event and make sure he doesn’t make any mistakes. Call me after.”

  He hung up without waiting for her answer.

  “Goodbye to you, too,” she said into the silence.

  Tossing the cell on her bed, she fell backward onto the soft mattress. He’d been doing well at work. Maybe they’d get through this without anyone being the wiser.

  Or maybe he’ll forget someone or something he should absolutely know in front of the city’s elite.

  And damn the company.

  “Hell,” she whispered, stealing Jackson’s favorite curse.

  With a groan, she pushed herself up and went looking for her boss.

  She found him in the kitchen, spatula in his one good hand, standing before the stove.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Apparently, I’m down a chef while my brain is jumbled and there’s only so much takeout I can stand.”

  She came over to his side. “Burgers?”

  “How do you like yours done?” he asked, flipping a patty.

  “Well,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you cook in all the years I’ve known you.”

  “Guess we’ll find out if I’m any good at it, then.”

  Crossing her arms, she leaned against the counter. “We have a problem.”

  “We have many problems. Want cheese on this?”

  “This one is dangerous.”

  He sighed, turning his attention to her. “What shoe dropped this time?”

  “There’s a benefit gala this weekend that I tried to get you out of. Marc wants you there.”

  “Then Marc should come home and go himself.”

  “If you would talk to him maybe you could convince him that this is a bad idea.”

  He was silent while the flipped the burgers. “Maybe later.”

  She said nothing as she watched him cook. Every time Marc called, he came up with an excuse not to speak to his brother.

  Is he angry it’s me helping him here and not Marc? Or is this far more personal than that?

  “He thinks the board needs to see you.”

  “Under normal circumstances he’d be right.”

  “I can try to talk him around again.”

  He shook his head, putting cheese on the burgers. “Tell me what I need to do to get through this.”

  “Well, for starters, you need a date.”

  “Easy,” he replied, sliding the burgers onto the waiting buns and passing one to her. “You.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so. Give me your phone and I’ll call the redhead.”

  “I don’t want to go with the redhead.”

  “You don’t get a vote here.”

  “I’m your boss.”

  She took her plate to the table. “And I’m your guide. This is my area and my advice is this. You have to have someone stunning on your arm to convince people you are the same man you’ve always been. We can have her sign an NDA if you think there’s any risk of you slipping up in a more intimate setting.”

  “You mean, will someone I’ve probably slept with notice that I’m a completely different person?”

  Her met his gaze without flinching. “Yes.”

  Shaking his head, he joined her at the table. “From what you and the people at work say, that doesn’t sound likely. But it’s a moot point. I’m not going with her.”

  She shrugged. “We can find you someone brand new. That might be safer, actually. No history. I’ll find a few appropriate candidates tomorrow. Leave it to me.”

  “Let the woman I’d like to pursue pick out a date for me. What can go wrong there?”

  “We’ve had this conversation.”

  “Just wait. I’m going to win this time.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “Try.”

  “I need a woman who understands the benefit world since I have no idea of what that even means.”

  “Yes. A socialite can show you the ropes.”

  “Or, a woman who has helped with these events before and understands how they work, even if she hasn’t been to them personally.”

  “I get invited every now and then, too, thanks.”

  “When your boss needs you to be there, right? Like now?”

  She bit her lips. He had a point. The only time anyone ever sprang to pay for her plate was when Jackson needed a direct line to her brain and couldn’t afford to have her anywhere else. Then she ate and stuck to the sidelines while he charmed the crowd.

  But last time, he noticed me.

  She remembered the gala they’d gone to the year before. She’d been twiddling her thumbs in the corner like normal when someone had tapped her shoulder. Turning, she’d seen Jackson behind her with a glass of champagne. He’d handed it over and told her she’d done a brilliant job that evening.

  And then he smiled. That smile that makes my heart skip a b
eat.

  Shaking her head, she banished the memory.

  “I can still go, just not as your date,” she said. “I’ll go as your assistant. No one will think twice about it.”

  “But I’d have to balance entertaining a date when we both want me focused on not calling anyone the wrong name or doing something the old me would never have considered.”

  “Those programmers you hired turned out to be a godsend.”

  “We got lucky there. How far do you want to test our limits?”

  The tasty burger turned to ash on her tongue. He was right. There were only so many slips they could explain away.

  “You’ve spent days at the office. You can do this.”

  “Days with you jumping in every time I run my fingers through my hair. People are going to think I have a problem with my scalp soon.”

  “You’ve barely needed me,” she said.

  “Well, I need you now. It’s not just business associates at a benefit, is it? There will be people there who know me socially and I will look right through them without your voice in my ear, guiding me in the right direction.”

  “The redhead—”

  “Isn’t you.”

  The fight drained out of her.

  Don’t let him get to you. You know this is a terrible idea.

  If she showed up on his arm, there would be talk. Right now, they wanted to avoid speculation, not cause it.

  But how much worse would it be if he ignored people he should be attracting? Or slipped in front of board members with the power to vote him out?

  “This isn’t my world,” she said. “The glitz and glamour of being a billionaire is all you. I’m the one standing on the sidelines, and I like it that way.”

  He set down his burger. “Do you?”

  She looked away, pretending to misunderstand. “You know how many hors d’oeuvres don’t make it into the center of the room because I eat them all? I’ll be fine. Promise.”

  He touched her arm when she reached for her burger again. “What if I don’t like having you in the shadows?”

  She wanted to look away but there was no escaping the intensity of his gaze. “I’m just an EA,” she told him softly. “People will talk if you take me.”

  “I’m a billionaire. Why would I give a damn?”

  “Because you’re a billionaire protecting his company. Put it first.”