Foolin'

by Allyson Young

  Satisfied, she punched in her boss’s number, deliberately blocking her own. It was unusual to work outside of office hours, particularly on weekends, but it happened. Regardless, she didn’t want to give him any excuse not to pick up.

  “Johnson.”

  “Mr. Johnson, it’s Kathleen Walker. I received your text.”

  “Oh. Kathleen. Right. We’re to meet tomorrow.”

  “I gathered from the tone of your text, it’s important.” She wasn’t calling it urgent, wasn’t attaching more significance to Susan’s lie than warranted.

  “Well, I suppose it is. Susan left me a message, and I returned it. She leveled a serious accusation about your professionalism on Friday night.”

  Of course, he returned Susan’s message. He was probably home early from the weekend with the missus and why wouldn’t he call Susan? One didn’t ignore one’s piece on the side. She bit certain words back and swallowed her uncharitable thoughts. “I was quite professional. Susan and I worked as a team.”

  “Not the way she reports it.”

  She was losing any advantage. He was feeling pushed into a corner, defensive.

  “I’m afraid it will come to her word against mine, then.” She saw no point in dancing around it. “Although I do have an individual who saw how things were … handled.”

  “The cowboy you met at the event?” His tone dripped censure and prurient curiosity, the hypocrite. And she’d told Carter she wouldn’t judge.

  So, her boss had rung the death knell. She heard it and felt it. It didn’t matter that she’d done everything right at the auction and Susan had taken possession of the bids. She and Carter could swear until the cows came home that the other woman reneged. But to explain she’d done it out of spite? When Mr. Johnson was indeed being led around by his dick?

  Susan would be blowing smoke frantically to hide any such pique and the hint she might be interested in other men. Kathleen was screwed. Time to take her lumps.

  “Carter Rodgers. He’s one of the biggest ranchers in the area.” That would appeal to Johnson before anything and might distract him. “He’s willing to speak with you.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ve made my decision.” If pompous had a face, it was her boss. “We’ll still meet tomorrow, without any third parties. Just you and me. But expect a demotion, Kathleen.”

  She lost her fragile hold on her temper. “And Susan? Or is her current position untouchable?”

  “Kathleen! Susan chose to protect the integrity of our firm.”

  Right, like the firm would fold with a complaint. “That’s not how it went down.”

  “I think working back in the fishbowl will put things in perspective for you. We’ll speak further tomorrow.”

  “We will,” she said, forcing an amiable tone while seeing red. She’d never make ends meet, earning what bookkeepers made in the fishbowl, loaned out to various jobs and paid, essentially, piece work. “Please give my regards to Mrs. Johnson. I hope to see her at the company summer party.”

  He clicked off, a buzz in her ear. She’d just sealed her fate with that subtle threat because he had no idea she’d never stoop so low, despite sticking the needle in. What possessed her to let her mouth run away on her? Dropping the cell on her desk, she put her face in her hands.

  “Darlin’.” Carter crouched beside her, his arm draping over her shoulders.

  “I’m screwed,” she mumbled. “He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place, and I’m collateral damage.”

  “I’ll—”

  “He won’t entertain the idea of you speaking with him. Susan nixed that, I expect. She’s clever, and he’s stuck. I’m being demoted to the freaking fishbowl!” She wanted to scream and pull her hair. Or Susan’s hair.

  “What’s that? The fishbowl.”

  She explained it. “At least I didn’t have to face him when he lowered the boom on me.”

  “Or maybe he wouldn’t have been so harsh in person.” He scowled. “I steered you wrong.”

  “You didn’t.” She sighed. “Susan would have been there, reveling in my humiliation, and then the whole office would be involved when I snatched her blind.”

  “You could take her. Easy.”

  His humor fell flat, and as the enormity of her situation sank in, it immobilized her. Carter stepped away, and she heard the fridge open and shut. He returned with a glass of wine and pressed it into her hand, resting a hip on the edge of the desk.

  “Thanks.” She sipped it, feeling numb.

  “You’re not going to earn enough to make ends meet.” The flat statement didn’t feel harsh or blunt. It clarified the situation.

  She had some savings. She’d find another job—a reference might be an issue, though. It would definitely be one. All the firms in the city knew one another. “I’ll be okay.”

  Maybe Lisa bringing her friend home was a good idea after all. The rent would help. Her mind raced.

  “Can we sit in the other room?” Carter suggested.

  “Oh. Of course.” He’d need to get going, but she wasn’t averse to him keeping her company for a few more minutes. His presence somehow kept her from flying apart. “There might be some bourbon.”

  “I’m good, Kathleen.” He led the way to the living room and sat beside her on the couch.

  She couldn’t think of anything to say, thinking she should call Lisa and fill her in. Or maybe not right away. She had to think out the story she’d share.

  “I’d like to run something past you, darlin’.” His voice was deep and soothing, and she made an effort to focus.

  She took another sip of wine. “Okay.”

  “I’d like to offer you a job.”

  She blinked. “Do you need that much bookkeeping?”

  He squinted, paused, and then visibly recovered. It was obviously not what he’d meant to say. “Uh, no. I guess I could use some, and help with clerical stuff, I suppose you’d call it. If that wouldn’t be out of your wheelhouse.”

  “I’m not proud, Carter.” Maybe she could work from home. Others did it. Or she could make the drive once in a while to pick up the stuff he couldn’t email, or he could come here and… She shut her thoughts off. If she worked for him, she wasn’t going to have sex with him.

  He touched her hand. “Okay. But you’ve seen the state of the house. You seem to like order? You’re okay with cleaning? I know you like to cook.”

  “You mean you’d hire me as a housekeeper slash bookkeeper slash secretarial type?” That was an interesting proposition. She’d get to live in that marvelous house and— She had to remind herself of what she’d be giving up. No sex with the boss.

  It’d suck to see him every day and stay at arm’s length. Her mood sank again.

  “Keeping the house and the books. That sounds about right. Kathleen, this weekend was an eye-opener for me. You were amazing.” He named a salary that made her jaw drop.

  She couldn’t get her head around it. Not having to set foot in the office again was immensely appealing. Hiding out on the ranch held allure. She could whip that place into shape and cook to her heart’s content. But it’d kill her to be so tempted.

  She took a deep breath. “What about the sex?”

  His eyes widened, and his brows climbed his forehead. “I…”

  “I can’t work for you and be in your bed, too.”

  He shoved his hands in his hair, his tell for frustration. She knew that about him.

  She could almost hear his brain working, and he said, “Then move in with me as my girlfriend. Rent out your house. We’ll figure out a way to reimburse you without that … connotation.”

  She froze. How could that work? Payment for services rendered… “I’m not sure…”

  “Would it help if you married me?” His features tightened as if he couldn’t believe what had just fallen out of his mouth.

  She couldn’t believe it either. Her default was humor. “Like one of those honor marriage things?”

  Hands through his hair a
gain. “No. I’m not rescuing you or whatever you’re referring to. I wanted to pursue whatever we have, a relationship, I guess you’d call it. I’m damn rusty at this, Kathleen. I had no idea how it’d work, living in two different places and with my schedule—all I knew was I was gonna try if you wanted to. But this new situation seems, I don’t know, like it could work?”

  Maybe there were stranger marriage proposals, but she hadn’t heard of any, other than in a romance novel. “Not marriage.”

  He nodded. “I get that. But will you move in with me?”

  She frowned inside, thinking he’d jumped at her refusal pretty quick, then told herself to get real. “I have to earn some money, Carter, and not on my back.”

  “Jesus, Kathleen.” He stood and paced, the short span of the room limiting him. “Is there some way you can separate it in your head? Like the office work or something?”

  “Did you ever plan to hire that out?”

  “No.”

  She could stay in the city, look for work, maybe luck out. Maybe she wouldn’t, and then what? A tiny, inner voice, tiny but with considerable impact, pointed out a truth she couldn’t ignore. Do you want to lose him?

  She did not. She’d been the most impetuous she’d ever been, taken a chance on a man she’d only just met and was halfway in love with him. It had been a killer to realize that continuing the relationship would have proven nearly impossible, and here it was, right within her grasp. Call her crazy, but this was a sign if there was some way to work it out.

  “Okay.” She acquiesced, surprising herself a little. Going to change her name to Impetuous Kathleen.

  He stumbled to a halt. “Thank God.” He dropped down beside her and wrapped her up. “We’ll make it work, darlin’.”

  Soaking in his heat, she believed him. She said, “But your office is off limits.”

  He stared into her eyes. “So, no hanky panky on the desk? Or the chair?”

  He so got her, knew what she referred to immediately. “Precisely.”

  “I can live with that. It’s a big house.”

  Lust heated her belly and mitigated the enormity of her decision. “I need to make a list and plan the move.”

  “You started a list for me at home.”

  “I’m big on lists. Expect them.”

  “No problem.” He hugged her close.

  After a bit, she extricated herself and went back to the den for more paper, crumpling the bullet points into a ball and tossing them into the trash. Carter followed her.

  “I’ll call Hazel in HR at home. We walk together at lunch hour. And she despises Susan.”

  “Do you plan to file a complaint?”

  She huffed. “Hardly. Not a hill I’m prepared to die on, not for Mrs. Johnson’s sake and her kids. Not to mention the fallout and the taking of sides. I’ve got nothing against the rest of the firm. But Hazel will make sure I get my last check and fix anything that comes with quitting without notice. Empty my desk, so I don’t have to go in.”

  “I’d like to be a fly on the wall of your exit interview.”

  “Like there will be one.” She felt a stirring of excitement at leaving a dead-end job, one where employees were valued for things that had nothing to do with their actual work. How long had she hated working there, only now able to think about it? “I need to sit down with Lisa. She’ll have something to say.”

  “I’ll be there,” he said, immediately.

  “No. She can meet you another time. This is between mom and daughter.”

  His handsome features blanked and she lost him for a moment. “Carter?”

  “Huh? Oh, right. She might want to visit the ranch sometime.”

  Visit… She set the qualifier aside. “She’ll accept things better when she can move back here and have a roommate. The utilities will be covered, any maintenance…” She jotted down any number of things she had to do before she could take the big leap.

  “You should head back, Carter.” It wasn’t fair that she couldn’t give him her full attention—that would change in the near future.

  “Do you want to go out for dinner? I’d like to take you.”

  At any other time, she’d have jumped at the opportunity, being squired by him. “I have a lot to do. And you need to get back, you know it.”

  He waved a hand. “Your preparations can’t wait until tomorrow?”

  She pondered. It was wonderful to have another adult, one special to her, who could help point out the obvious. She was in a hurry now she’d made her decision, but nothing she might do tonight would speed up the process significantly.

  “They can. Other than the call to Hazel. I’ll do that, and I’ll get ready.”

  Hazel’s reaction was probably heard all the way to the office. Bitch. Underhanded. Asshole. Prick. The epithets abounded until her friend wound down and promised to take care of everything. “You’re really quitting.”

  “I am. I have another job lined up. I’m going to run the household of a cattle ranch and handle the books.” She wasn’t going to mention the fringe benefits.

  “I’m speechless, Kathleen.”

  “I’m thrilled.”

  “Is it the cowboy’s ranch? The one Susan threw you under the bus over?”

  “The very same.” Her friend could make whatever she liked out of it. She probably thought that when Kathleen went off the straight and narrow, she plunged.

  “You’re sure? And okay? He’s not holding something over you?”

  A risqué response hovered on the tip of her tongue, but she refrained. “Absolutely sure. I’m fine and absolutely not.”

  Hazel actually squealed. “I knew you had a wild side, if only you could free it. You keep in touch.”

  “I will.” A wild side? More like she’d been dormant for nearly twenty years. Waiting.

  She went to the closet, viscerally aware of the large cowboy lounging in her living room. Her motor was running again, funny how she was of a one-track mind with her decision made. She chose the only other dress she owned, hoping to pass it off as vintage.

  The silky, paisley print was a shirtwaist, and definitely from another era, but it had flattered her shape and had enough give to accommodate her additional pounds. Her minimizer bra helped the fit, along with a pair of high-waisted, high-cut panties, an inset of lace providing a naughty tease.

  She stilled in the middle of drawing her thigh-high stocking up her leg. Sexy lingerie had been her only nod to her femininity, worn out of sight of others. She was fiercely glad she’d hung onto that part of herself now. Carter most definitely appreciated them.

  The heels from Friday night worked, and she strapped them on, finding a clutch for her phone and wallet, lip gloss. No more hauling around that pseudo-backpack. She retouched her mascara and drew a brush through her hair, electing to leave it loose.

  Carter uncoiled to his feet, his gaze roving over her. “You look great.” Taking her arm, he said, “I looked up a restaurant that has good reviews.”

  “Not a steak house?”

  “Darlin’, I prefer to eat my own beef.”

  He was the perfect date, attentive and confident. The server fawned a little, and he didn’t appear to notice. He looked every inch the cowboy but fit in with the surroundings. The meal was very good, and she shared an amazing cheesecake with him, noting the way he watched her mouth.

  “I could stay overnight. Help you get organized.” There was uncertainty in his tone.

  Puzzled, she said, “You really need to get back, and I need more than overnight.”

  “You won’t change your mind?”

  Wow. If she’d doubted the attraction being as strong on his side… “Carter, I won’t change my mind. I promise.”

  “Okay. I’ll just have to bide my time.”

  “I’ll text you my progress every day.”

  He walked her to her door and inside. She wanted to ask him to stay, wanted to sleep with him and more, but worried it might feel like sealing a contract or something. Better they
wait until she moved in and they established those parameters.

  The evidence of his preference pushed against her lower belly when he pulled her close and took her mouth in a searing kiss. In a near growl, he said, “I’m going now before I can’t. You text me, darlin’. Don’t miss a day.”

  She clung to him. “I won’t. You drive safe. And text me when you get home.”

  “I will. And don’t look so worried about me spending the extra time here. It was worth every minute. Besides, I don’t have office work waiting. I’ve hired my own bookkeeper.”

  And she’d put limits on office hanky panky, damn it.

  She felt like weeping when he drove away—or stamping her foot. She did neither, deciding to head straight to bed with a good book. She’d indulge her vice for a while and get a good night’s sleep, somehow.

  Well into a thriller with an amazing female protagonist, she started when a text vibrated her cell. Carter made it home, and his text reinforced her decision. Short, sweet, and sincere.

  Can’t wait to see you again.

  She clicked off her Ereader and drifted off on the memory of Carter’s face when she promised to move to the ranch. Tomorrow was the first day of the rest of her life, starting with a conversation with her daughter, who was going to think her only parent had lost her ever-loving mind. She looked forward to it.

  Chapter Eight

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  Coined it. “I haven’t, Lisa. Which part didn’t you understand?”

  She’d explained the entire thing carefully, start to finish—twice—but her child seemed to be fixated on one point. Her mother quit her job to move in with a relative stranger. A man.

  “I feel like your mother,” her daughter nearly shouted. “You’d kill me if I did such a thing.”

  Kathleen bit her lip against reminding her twenty-one-year-old of the many times she’d felt that exact thing. She’d woken that morning, prepared to second-guess herself, only to find she was both calm and full of anticipation. It made dealing with Lisa easier.

  “You’re not my mother, and I’m of sound mind.”