The restaurant was less than a quarter full when Jayne refused a third refill of coffee and looked at her watch. “It’s almost eleven o’clock!”
Garrett was pleased to hear the surprise in her voice. That meant she’d enjoyed herself, too. “I suppose we’d better go,” he agreed reluctantly. “But let’s do this again. Soon.”
When she nodded, he stepped away from the banquette and turned to help her.
Jayne hesitated, then pulled her napkin off her lap revealing a length of black-stockinged thigh. Garrett swallowed, mesmerized, as she put her hand in his.
As soon as she stood, her skirt fell back into place, but all Garrett could think about was the provocative glimpse of her leg.
There was something tantalizing about seeing Jayne’s leg, a vaguely illicit sexiness. He was fascinated, and he didn’t know why. It was only her leg and she’d reveal more of it in a pair of shorts, so that wasn’t the reason. Maybe it was because she hadn’t intended for him to see that part of her leg. He’d seen a lot of legs, but he hadn’t seen Jayne’s leg. He’d spent the better part of the evening with that leg pressed against his, oblivious to the fact that her skirt was no longer covering it.
Delayed reaction, that’s what it was.
He followed her out of the restaurant, watching the sway of her hips. She wore high heels, which did lovely things to her walk. With each step, the slit in her skirt opened and he could see shadowy flashes a few inches above her knees.
Garrett had a thing for forties-era glamour and Jayne in her retro suit and high heels had pretty much hit his hot buttons.
He walked her to her car, aware that he hadn’t said anything since they’d stepped into the moist night air. It was more enjoyable to walk behind her.
“This is it,” she said unnecessarily, since there weren’t any other cars surrounding the sensible dark gray sedan.
Still he said nothing, mutely watching as she beeped the alarm off and opened the door before he could.
She turned to face him. “I enjoyed dinner tonight. Thanks.” She very properly held out her hand for him to shake.
Garrett took her hand, but he didn’t shake it. He didn’t want to shake it. He wanted to kiss her.
Jayne looked up at him questioningly, her lips slightly parted.
Gently, but insistently pulling her toward him, Garrett placed her hand on his shoulder, then curved his own around her waist and kissed her.
He expected surprise to hold her immobile and had anticipated her stiffening and pulling away.
He didn’t expect Jayne’s other arm to find its way around his neck and for her to press her lips and her body against his.
Surprise held him immobile, but just for a fraction of a second. Then his arms tightened around her as he finally held her as close as he’d wanted to all evening.
For long moments, he simply enjoyed the feel of her in his arms. She wasn’t long and bony like most of the women around the agency, and frankly, it was to her advantage. She looked lush and generous and warm and was revealing a sensual nature she’d kept hidden until now.
Her kiss was sweeter than he’d imagined, and he had an excellent imagination. Jayne’s mouth was smaller and firmer than the puffy model lips popular right now. It was just right. He nibbled at her lower lip. More than right.
Her mouth was open against his and Garrett took full advantage. She tasted of the coffee they’d shared and something more that he knew was Jayne herself.
He deepened the kiss and she was right there with him, running her hands across his shoulders and threading them in the hair at the back of his neck.
They stayed there far too long, holding each other and kissing under the halogen parking lot lights until eventually Garrett’s lust-soaked brain registered the delightful fact that Jayne was not going to be the one to break the kiss.
That meant he was going to have to break the kiss. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less, which was exactly the reason he should stop kissing her. Now. Or in just a little while...
He pulled back without his usual end-of-kiss finesse.
Jayne still had her eyes closed, lips parted and a dreamy expression on her face. Garnett desperately wanted to continue kissing her, but settled for dropping a light kiss on her forehead.
Her eyes blinked open. “Oh.” Pulling her arms away awkwardly, she stepped back and bumped up against the car door, laughed self-consciously and ungracefully plopped onto the car seat.
The last thing Garrett saw was a flash of thigh as she swiveled her legs inside and shut the car door.
She’d imagined the whole thing.
That had to be the explanation.
Under the strain of the evening, of constantly striving to behave professionally, of reminding herself that she was at a business dinner and that Garnett wasn’t responsible for, or aware of, her fantasies, and then sitting so close to him for so long, and he was so... so charming and nice to her and treating her to a lovely dinner as well as being incredibly handsome and... well... A lesser woman would have caved long before.
When she got to her car and it was time to say good-night, she was desperately wishing he’d kiss her good-night even though she knew she shouldn’t and he wouldn’t, and then she held out her hand and he’d looked down at her...
And then she’d kind of blanked out until he’d kissed her on the forehead. Like a ninny, she’d flung her arms around his neck and imagined the passionate kiss of her dreams, imagined his mouth on hers, his arms crushing her to his chest, his hand cupping the back of her head as his lips teased hers...
Well, maybe he’d think she’d just been steadying herself by lightly gripping his shoulders.
She hoped.
The next morning, Jayne stopped by Venus to pick up the books before going on to her office. She slipped in, waved at Micky and slipped back out. She wasn’t trying to avoid Garrett, she told herself. She knew he was busy. It was the weekly open house at the agency and hopeful models already crowded the waiting room. Jayne would get more work done in the quiet of her own office.
It was well after nine-thirty when she passed by Bill’s cubicle. She stopped when she saw it was empty and stripped of everything but a telephone and chair.
Then she remembered. Bill had been promoted. Terrific. She wondered where his new office was.
Her own office was empty. Although their usual meeting time was ten o’clock, she’d half expected Sylvia to be eagerly waiting to tell her about her evening. And maybe, night.
Her voice mail message light blinked. Nine messages. Concerned, Jayne dumped the files on her desk and didn’t even put her purse away before picking up the receiver and listening to the messages.
The first three were from Bill asking a couple of questions, then wondering where she was. After that were calls from clients, a message from Mr. Waterman’s secretary to call when she got in, another call from Bill, then Garrett chastising her for not saying hello when she’d been by this morning. She sighed, remembering last night. It was tempting to call him, but he’d be in the middle of interviewing models right now.
The last message was from Micky telling her that Bill had called the agency looking for her. None from Sylvia.
Jayne called Mr. Waterman back first. “Bill expressed concern when he was unable to locate you,” he said.
Bill had tattled on her? Jayne gritted her teeth and explained where she’d been.
“Nevertheless, you should keep everyone informed when you’ll be out of the office,” Mr. Waterman said.
If the office couldn’t manage without her for an hour, then she was more valuable to the company than she thought. She considered pointing this out to Mr. Waterman, but fortunately didn’t.
Still, his words struck her the wrong way, so she wasn’t in the best of moods when she called Bill.
“What’s the problem?” she asked.
“Where have you been?” he snapped.
In spite of his promotion, she was still his supervisor. Jayne
let the silence grow between them before replying, “Working.” And she didn’t elaborate.
“Listen, there’s a problem with two of your accounts.”
Jayne propped herself on the edge of her desk. “Two of the ones you’ve been handling?”
“Yeah, Modern Madrigals and The Village Smithy.” Bill hesitated. “Okay, look. I missed a tax filing deadline.”
Jayne shot upright. “You what?”
“They aren’t on the usual quarterly system.”
“Because their income is seasonal and they run on a different fiscal year. They only operate during the fall Renaissance Festival.” Bill would have known that if he’d been looking after their accounts the way he claimed he’d been doing.
“Okay, so what do I do now?”
You’re an executive accountant. You should know. Jayne thought a moment. There would be penalties and interest. “Bill, I honestly don’t know.”
“Don’t give me that!”
“I don’t! I’ve never missed a filing deadline. We’ll have to ask Mr. Waterman what the procedures are for paying the penalties. I’m assuming the client wouldn’t be billed for them.”
“You set me up. You did this on purpose to make me look bad.”
Jayne rolled her eyes. “I’ve been too busy to take time to make you look bad. I suggest you approach Mr. Waterman, or if you wait, I can talk to him for you. Right now, I have more calls to return.”
“I’ll talk to Waterman myself.” Bill slammed the phone in her ear.
So he was mad. She was mad, too. Maybe now he wouldn’t be so cocky.
After taking a few calming breaths, Jayne called the clients next. Both had tried to reach Bill and he hadn’t returned their calls. Jayne answered their questions, relying on memory since she didn’t have their records with her, told them she’d verify figures and hung up the phone.
Bill Pellman an executive accountant? Ha. She almost felt sorry that he’d have to confess a whopper of a mistake on his first day in his new position. Almost.
Jayne was just stuffing her purse into the bottom file cabinet drawer when the door to her office opened and Sylvia, carrying three coffees and a white bakery bag that was larger than usual, came dragging in.
“Sylvia!”
Sylvia wore the same outfit she’d had on yesterday, her eye makeup was smudged and her hair had lost half its volume. And she’d come in to work that way?
She flopped onto the couch. “I’m in love.”
“With Sandor?”
“Who else?”
“Well, I wouldn’t know since I haven’t seen you since you left with him yesterday.”
“Isn’t he the most...” She sighed and trailed off, her eyes closing.
“Sylvia!”
She yawned, then sat up and dug in the bag. “We stayed out all night. I’m exhausted and famished.” Pulling out a large pastry, she bit into it, then peeled off the plastic cover from one of the cups and drank half the contents before Jayne could walk across the room.
“Sausage kolaches?” Jayne peered into the bag and found two more. “I thought we were dieting for the cruise.”
“But I’m starving!” Sylvia dramed the cup, then started in on the second.
Jayne reached for the last coffee before Sylvia drank that one, too.
“I think I might live now.” She popped the last bite of kolache into her mouth and held out the bag to Jayne. “Want one?”
Jayne started to take it, then shook her head. “You go ahead. I had a huge dinner last night.” She waited for Sylvia to ask her about dinner, but Sylvia’s head was full of Sandor.
“I had so much fun! He knows everybody. We went to so many clubs, I lost count.” She bit into her second kolache, wolfing it down as fast as she had the first. “We were with all these models and actors, except the crowd kept changing as we went from place to place.”
“And you did this all night?”
Sylvia nodded. “And all yesterday afternoon, too. I went to lunch with Sasha and Sandor and a couple of others at the Mucky Duck—except that they didn’t eat more than a few bites, so I didn’t, either. I mean, I felt like such a pig. Then we heard this group rehearse, they told us about another place, so we went there and kind of kept going.”
“What about your job?”
She made a face. “I called in sick.”
“The way you look today, they’ll believe you.”
“Oh, come on, Jayne. Just because you never have any fun—”
“I have fun. In fact—”
But Sylvia didn’t hear her. “—doesn’t mean you should spoil mine. I met this great guy and I went for it. You can hardly blame me.”
Jayne didn’t blame her, but she remembered Garrett’s words. “He’s a love ‘em and leave ’em type. Be careful.”
“How do you know?”
“Garrett told me.”
“Well, Sandor says Garrett is a looking-for-the-perfect-woman-type and no one ever measures up.”
“You talked about Garrett,?” Jayne edged closer to the sofa, Bill and his problems forgotten.
Sylvia finished the second kolache and eyed the last one in the bag. “Talked about you, too.”
Jayne groaned. “I know. They could hardly wait to get out of here yesterday.”
“I don’t know about that, buuuut...”
Sylvia drew out the word until Jayne burst out with, “But what?”
“Well, both Sandor and Sasha say Garrett talks about you all the time.”
“He does?” Jayne couldn’t stop her pleased smile, even though she knew Sylvia would see it.
And she did, nodding with satisfaction. “According to Garrett, you’re the only reason they still have the company.”
Business hype to reassure his family. Jayne’s smile faded. “That’s not true. He just told them that to convince them to listen to what I had to say. In fact, I still don’t think they realize how serious things—” At the last moment, she realized that she was talking to Sylvia who wasn’t supposed to know about the agency’s business.
“Sandor told me their manager ran off with all their money.”
“I guess they do understand,” Jayne murmured.
“Yeah, they’re pretty bummed. But Garrett does talk about you,” she added slyly.
Jayne stood and carried her coffee over to her desk. “We’ve put in some pretty long hours together lately.”
“Including last night at Nicky V’s?”
Jayne whirled back around. “How did you know?”
“We ran into that Micky girl from the agency at one of the clubs and she said she’d seen you with Garrett. And you didn’t even tell me!”
“How could I? You weren’t around! Oh, and I wanted you to go shopping with me—”
“You went shopping and I missed it?”
“I had to. I bought a black suit,” Jayne told her.
Sylvia groaned and slapped her hand to her forehead. “Jayne, we’ve got to get you out of suits!”
“I felt comfortable in it,” Jayne said defensively.
“You’re supposed to be sexy, not comfortable.”
“Can’t I be both?”
“It hardly ever works that way.” Sylvia slipped off her shoe and rubbed her foot. “Blisters,” she said and grimaced. “So what kind of evening was it? And more important, did he kiss you good-night?”
“I...” Jayne had dreamed about the kiss last night. But was she dreaming about a dream, or had it really happened? “On the forehead for sure.”
Sylvia blinked at her. “What does that mean?”
“It means I blanked out anything else.”
“Oh, this is great.” Sylvia laughed and clapped her hands. “He kissed you senseless.”
Had he?
“So when are you going out with him again?”
Jayne stared at her coffee. “He didn’t say anything about going out again.”
“He will.”
“I don’t know, Sylvia. I’m me and he’s...” She ge
stured wildly. “You know.”
“No, I don’t know.”
Jayne sighed. “Even if... you ought to see the way women look at him!”
“Well, yeah. The man is a serious hunk!”
“I’d have to compete with them.” She shrugged. “I can’t.”
“Not if you don’t try.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know how we’re dieting for the cruise? We’ll do more. New makeup, new clothes. Gosh, you spend half your time over there in the middle of model central, you ought to pick up some tips.”
Jayne thought seriously about what Sylvia had said. Would it hurt to wear just a touch of makeup? And must her suits be blue or gray or black? Did she always have to wear white shirts with little scarf ties? She’d already mostly given up her ten o’clock chocolate doughnut, maybe if she’d cut back more, she’d drop a few pounds and discover she had cheekbones, too.
And then, if she became thin enough and beautiful enough, she’d be good enough for Garrett.
“Okay, let’s do it!”
“All right!” Sylvia jumped up. “And the first thing we’re going to do is get rid of these.” She stepped over the coffee table and untied Jayne’s striped ribbon tie.
“Hey!”
“Live a little. Unbutton a button.”
Feeling reckless, Jayne did just that.
She and Sylvia were grinning at each other when Jayne’s intercom buzzed.
It was Mr. Waterman’s secretary. “Jayne, he wants to see you.” She lowered her voice. “Pronto.”
“I’ve got to go,” Jayne said.
Sylvia was already leaving. “Me, too. Bye!”
What could Mr. Waterman want now? Without taking time to retie her tie, Jayne jogged down the hallway, taking two deep recovery breaths before opening Mr. Waterman’s door.
Bill was with him, looking innocent. Angelic, even.
Jayne knew that was a bad sign.
Mr. Waterman’s gaze swept over her, lingering at her throat. “Jayne, Bill has brought a very serious matter to my attention.”
That would be the missed deadlines, Jayne guessed, except that Bill didn’t look cowed.
“You’ve missed two filing deadlines.”
The Boss and the Plain Jayne Bride Page 10