A Bargain with the Boss

by Barbara Dunlop

  She might not have been able to stop herself. But she knew she’d made one of the world’s biggest mistakes. She had hopped into bed with her boss. She’d hopped into bed with her boss, and it was fantastic.

  At least it had been fantastic for her. Who knew what it was for him? Maybe he had sex like that every Saturday night.

  Maybe she’d been mediocre. Maybe he’d been disappointed. She forcibly stopped her brain from going there.

  She wasn’t going to do that to herself. If it hadn’t been good for him, too darn bad. He’d have to get past it, maybe move on to someone else. She was moving on. She was definitely moving on.

  She straightened from the wall, putting one foot in front of the other. Her room was along the courtyard and up one flight of stairs. She was going to shower and sleep, and then she was going back home to focus on Jade, the baby and Tucker Transportation.

  Tonight was a lark. It didn’t have to define her. It didn’t even need to define her relationship with Tuck.

  “Amber?” Jackson’s voice came from a pathway at a right angle.

  She stopped. Her heart sank and her stomach contracted into a knot of embarrassment and guilt.

  She forced herself to turn and face him. “Hello, Jackson.”

  “I’m glad I caught you.” His expression wasn’t condemning, nor was it judgmental.

  Maybe he hadn’t guessed what had just happened.

  She should play it cool. She could have taken her hair down for any number of reasons. From this angle, he couldn’t see her zipper was partway down. She made a mental note to keep her back away from him.

  “Did Dixon ever mention a woman?” he asked.

  Amber forced herself to stay calm and collected. “What kind of a woman?”

  She fought off the urge to smooth her hair. It would only call attention to the mess.

  “Someone other than Kassandra.”

  “You mean a girlfriend?” She knew that wasn’t possible.

  “Yes.”

  “Dixon wasn’t fooling around. He was as honorable as they come.”

  “I know you’re loyal to him.”

  “That’s not loyalty talking,” said Amber. “Jackson, he didn’t cheat on Kassandra.”

  “What about after they separated?”

  “Nobody I ever heard about.”

  Jackson showed her his phone with a photo of a pretty blond woman. “Recognize her?”

  “No. Who is she?”

  “Is there any chance, any chance at all, that Dixon left Chicago to be with another woman?”

  “He wouldn’t leave Chicago to do that. His friends would be cheering from the rooftops. He wouldn’t hide it.”

  Jackson was obviously deep in thought.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “I’m covering all the bases.”

  “Where did you get the picture?”

  “She might be connected to the sailboat. We’re tracking it down the coast.”

  “There might not be so much of a rush now.”

  Amber was warming up to the idea of Tuck proving himself to his father. He’d obviously spent his whole life riddled with self-doubt. She knew he’d feel good if he succeeded. And she knew he had it in him. He just had to apply himself.

  Jackson’s brow rose. “Why do you say that?”

  “Tuck’s going to run the company. It’s the first chance he’s ever had. This might even turn out to be a blessing in disguise.”

  Jackson didn’t respond, but skepticism came into his eyes.

  “You think it’s a bad idea.” She wished she hadn’t come to respect Jackson’s opinion.

  “I think it’s not Tuck’s idea.”

  “It was. Kind of.” She struggled to remember the exact details of the conversation. “He’s always felt inadequate.”

  Jackson looked amused. “He’s been too busy having fun to feel inadequate.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “You’ve known him how long?”

  “A few weeks,” she admitted.

  Jackson gave her an indulgent smile. “He’s not what you think he is.”

  “Don’t patronize me.”

  “Then, let me put it another way. He’s not what you want him to be.” Jackson’s sharp eyes took in her messy hair and what had to be smeared makeup.

  In that second, she knew she was caught. And it was humiliating. Jackson thought she was going after Tuck. He thought she wanted to domesticate Tuck. She could only imagine he thought she was one of a long line of gold diggers out to become Mrs. Tuck Tucker.

  She had to get out of here. “Good night, Jackson.”

  “I like you, Amber.”

  She gave a chopped laugh of disbelief.

  “You’re too good for him,” said Jackson.

  “I don’t want him.”

  Jackson’s smile was indulgent again. “You want him to be a better him.”

  She opened her mouth to deny it.

  But Jackson spoke overtop her. “There’s only one reason a woman wants that.”

  “There could be a hundred reasons why a woman wants that.”

  “You might not know it yet. But you’re falling for him. Don’t fall for him, Amber. You’ll only get hurt.”

  “Advice to the lovelorn, Jackson?”

  “Advice from a guy who knows Tuck.”

  “Well...” She had no good comeback to that. She truly didn’t know what to say. All she knew was that she wanted the heck out of this conversation right now. “Thank you.”

  She turned sharply away, then realized he’d seen her partially undone zipper.

  She swallowed. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. He’d obviously already guessed. He’d come to all the wrong conclusions afterward, but he knew full well that she’d just slept with Tuck.

  * * *

  When she looked up and saw Amber, Jade closed her textbook and pushed the wheeled bed tray off to one side. “Welcome back to the real world.”

  “I’m on my way to the office,” Amber told her, moving closer. “We landed about an hour ago.”

  Taking a private jet to Scottsdale and back had been a surreal experience for Amber, but there was no disputing the convenience.

  “How was it?” asked Jade with enthusiasm. “Warm? Great? I looked up the resort—nice.”

  “We were pretty busy working.” Amber had struggled all night long, then especially during the flight back, to keep focused on the work and not to think about Tuck.

  Jade gave a mock frown. “You didn’t spend hours at the spa?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “I was hoping to live vicariously through you.”

  “I could lie,” Amber offered.

  “Would you? That would be nice. I’m so bloated and tired and achy, I’d kill for a massage or a few hours in the hot springs.”

  “The weather was great,” said Amber. “The hotel was gorgeous, the food, rooms. The beds were really comfortable.”

  “Was that a Freudian slip?”

  Amber didn’t understand Jade’s point.

  “Beds,” Jade elaborated. “Plural?”

  Amber realized it was a joke, but embarrassment made her mind go momentarily blank.

  Jade’s eyes went wide. “Wait a minute.”

  “It was a figure of speech,” said Amber.

  Jade’s surprise turned to concern. “Tell me you didn’t.”

  “I didn’t do anything.” At least nothing that was Jade’s business, nothing that was anybody’s business, except hers and Tuck’s. And they were forgetting all about it.

  “You slept with him?”

  Amber didn’t want to lie, so she didn’t answer.

  Jade
reached for her hands. “Oh, Amber. You’re usually so smart.”

  “It wasn’t stupid.”

  “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I’m not getting hurt. It just...happened.” Amber realized how trite that sounded. “It was only the once.”

  “He’s your boss.”

  “Only for a little while. Dixon will come back and then it’ll all be over. Tuck barely shows up at the office.”

  When Dixon got back, Amber fully expected Tuck to return to his previous life. He might want to impress his father, but he wasn’t likely to give up the parties and vacations in order to work his butt off.

  Last night she’d had a few moments of optimism. But she knew Jackson was right. Tuck liked his life exactly the way it was. Last night Tuck had told her what he thought she wanted to hear. He probably always told women what he thought they wanted to hear.

  She lowered herself onto the bedside chair. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “You were thinking he was a superhot guy. At least, that’s what I’m usually thinking.”

  Amber gave a helpless laugh. “He was. He is. Oh, man, he was good.”

  For the first time since it happened, she let the full bloom of their lovemaking rush through her mind. It had been amazing. And she wanted to do it again, so badly.

  “At least there’s that,” Jade said softly.

  “You say it as if it’s a good thing.”

  “It’s not?”

  Amber straightened in the chair. “No, it’s not. It would have been better to be disappointed.”

  “So you didn’t want to do it again,” Jade said with sage understanding.

  “What is wrong with me? I’m no better than Margaret.”

  “Who’s Margaret?”

  “Tuck’s father’s secretary. Turns out she’s having an affair with him.”

  “He’s married?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tuck’s not married,” said Jade.

  “He’s still my boss.”

  “True. But that makes it risky, not immoral. Those are two totally different circumstances.”

  “It was a mistake,” Amber said, more to herself than to Jade. “But I’m over it. I can do that. I’m tough.” She drew a bracing breath. “Now, what about you? Is everything still looking good?”

  Jade’s hand moved to her stomach. “She’s kicking less. I bet it must be getting crowded in there.”

  “Is that normal?” Amber’s gaze rested on Jade’s bulging stomach.

  “The doc says it often happens that way. My back is absolutely killing me.” Jade moved and stretched in the bed.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “And I’ve got heartburn and an overactive bladder. I’ll be so glad when this is over.”

  “It won’t be much longer,” said Amber, feeling sympathetic. “I’ve been thinking I better get shopping. Have you thought about what you’ll need? Can you make me a list?”

  “You don’t have to buy me things.”

  “You’re going to need a crib and diapers.”

  “There’s a secondhand store on Grand. We could check there after I get home.”

  “Sure,” said Amber, knowing the least she could do was to buy her new niece a crib. She didn’t want to make Jade feel bad about her financial circumstances, so she’d figure out the necessities on her own and get them ready.

  “I should head for the office,” she said, coming to her feet.

  She wasn’t looking forward to it, but she was confident that the more time she spent around Tuck in the office, the easier it would be to keep her feelings in perspective.

  “In a way, it’s reassuring,” said Jade, a look of contentment on her face.

  “What is?”

  “To know you’re not perfect.”

  “Who ever said I was perfect?”

  “Mom, me, you.”

  “Me?” Amber couldn’t imagine when or why she would have said that.

  “You don’t remember the straight As?”

  “I didn’t get straight As.”

  “You got a B plus in tenth-grade math.”

  “See?”

  Amber remembered it well. It was a blight on the report card, as if someone had painted a black, hairy spider in the middle of a butterfly collage.

  “You set your alarm for six fifty-three every morning.”

  It had made perfect sense to Amber. “I liked to lay there for two minutes before getting out of bed.”

  “You knew all the food groups. You talked about them at every meal.”

  “We didn’t always have them.”

  “We never had them. But you knew what they were. I remember Mom giving us each five dollars for candy. She was drunk, of course, in an ‘I love you, kids’ mood.”

  Amber didn’t like to remember her sloppy, tearful mother professing her love for them. It was inevitably followed by a monologue of self-pity, then a rant about how they didn’t love her back. Then she’d vomit and pass out in the bathroom. More often than not, leaving a mess for Amber to clean up.

  “Don’t go back there,” she said softly to Jade.

  “I spent it all on chocolate,” said Jade. “You bought chewable vitamins. I was baffled.”

  “I don’t remember that,” said Amber, searching her memory for the incident.

  “You were perfect,” said Jade.

  “You make me sound pretentious and superior.” What could Amber have been trying to prove?

  “You didn’t want us to die of scurvy.”

  But they hadn’t been on the verge of malnutrition.

  “We had juice with breakfast most mornings,” said Amber.

  “I hate to admit it, but part of me is glad you jumped into bed with your boss. If you’re not all good, then maybe I’m not all bad.”

  “You’re not bad, Jade.”

  “I’m pretty bad.”

  “No. And anyway, you’re getting better.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “I’ll try, too,” said Amber.

  “Try to do what? Be worse?”

  “Be, I don’t know... Normal, I guess, less uptight and judgmental. Those are not attractive qualities.”

  Jade grimaced as she shifted her back to a new position. “I realize now that you were trying to hold chaos together with your bare hands.”

  “Maybe I should have let it go.”

  Maybe if she had, Jade wouldn’t have run away. Maybe if she hadn’t been so morally superior, they could have worked together.

  Then it came to her that she should do the same thing now—let things go. It was none of her business what Tuck did or didn’t do with Tucker Transportation. Dixon’s decisions were similarly his own. Why did she feel an obligation to control the situation?

  “I can’t see you doing that.” Jade looked amused.

  “A month ago, I wouldn’t have been able to picture you writing your GED.”

  “Those are opposites.”

  “Not really.”

  “Don’t change, Amber. I need you just the way you are.”

  For some reason, Amber’s eyes teared up. She quickly blinked.

  “I won’t change,” she promised. At least not so that Jade could see. But she wasn’t going to badger Tuck anymore. Nobody needed that. She was surprised he’d put up with it this long.

  * * *

  Jamison’s eyes were closed, his expression lax, and his wrinkled skin was sallow against the stark white of the hospital sheets. Machines whirred and beeped as Tuck moved cautiously toward the bedside, screens glowing and colored dots of LED lights blinking in different rhythms. There was an oxygen tube beneath Jamison’s nose and an IV line in his arm.

  It was o
dd seeing him like this. Tuck half expected him to open his eyes, sit up and bellow out orders.

  “Dad?” Tuck said softly.

  Sounds from the hallway drifted through the glass door and windows: a phone ringing, a nurse’s voice, a cart wheeling by and the ping of an elevator.

  “Dad?” he repeated.

  Jamison’s pale blue eyes fluttered open, looking cloudy instead of sharp.

  “Hi, Dad,” said Tuck.

  He felt as though he ought to squeeze his father’s hand or stroke his brow. But they didn’t have that kind of relationship. There was no tenderness between them. Wary suspicion interspersed with crisp cordiality was more their style.

  “Dixon?” Jamison rasped, then he coughed and grimaced with the effort.

  “It’s Tuck,” said Tuck.

  Jamison squinted. “Where’s Dixon?”

  “He’s still away.”

  “Away where?”

  “Sailing,” said Tuck.

  “On the lake?”

  “Off the coast of California.” Tuck paused. “I’ve been taking care of things while he’s gone.”

  Jamison’s frown deepened. Then he waved a dismissive hand, the IV tube clattering against the bed rail. “Where’s your mother?”

  Tuck pulled in a chair and sat down. “She’s with Aunt Julie.”

  “Why?”

  “Dad, you know you’re in Boston, right?”

  Jamison looked confused for a moment, then his brow furrowed deeply and he looked annoyed. “Yes, I know I’m in Boston.”

  “And you understand that you had a heart attack.” Tuck was growing concerned with his father’s apparent level of confusion.

  “You must be feeling pleased with yourself.” Jamison’s voice seemed stronger. He gripped on to the bed rails.

  “How so?”

  “You got rid of me. And you’ve sent Dixon off somewhere. What have you been up to without us?”

  Ah, yes. Tuck’s father was back.

  “I didn’t give you a heart attack, Dad.”

  “I want to see your brother.”

  “Get in line,” said Tuck. Then he regretted the sarcasm. “Dixon can’t be reached right now.”