Joel caught a tantalizing glimpse of bare skin at the base of her spine and was immediately intrigued. He noticed there was an elegant dip at the small of her back that promised a full, plump derriere.
All indications were that Letty Thornquist had a very nice ass.
Joel had just been surprised to discover that he could be aroused by the shape of Letty's foot. But the interest he took in the design of her rear came as no surprise at all. He had always found the unique curves of the lower portion of the female anatomy aesthetically appealing. Letty, he saw, was designed very lushly indeed in that area.
For a few seconds he almost forgot how annoyed he was with his new boss. He reached down to grasp her arm and assist her to her feet. “You okay?”
“Yes, of course. Thanks, Joel. I mean, Mr. Blackstone.”
“There's no one around to hear if you slip up and call me by my first name.”
“Mustn't get into the habit while we're in the office.” Letty pushed her glasses more firmly onto her nose. She yanked at her skirt and shoved the hem of the blouse back inside the waistband. “That manual is a disaster. Totally incomprehensible to the novice.”
“This is the simplest tent in the entire line.”
“There is nothing simple about pitching that tent. I can't even imagine trying to do it in a high wind or a driving rain. It would be a totally frustrating experience.”
Joel took a grip on his own frustration and on his temper. “Why don't we go back to your office and I'll explain the instructions to you?”
“Don't you understand? This new line of camping gear is supposed to be designed for beginners, right?”
“Right.”
“I'm a beginner and I'm intelligent and I'm highly motivated. Yet I could not get it up on my own. That says it all.”
“It does?” He quirked a brow.
“Certainly. That stupid manual needs to be rewritten. Either that, or the basic design of the tent is bad.”
Joel sucked in his breath. “Letty, we've taken delivery on the first shipment of five hundred of those damn tents. They're in the warehouse. They'll be on the sales floor in another two months when we start the new ad campaign. There is nothing wrong with the design of that product.”
She frowned and took a step back. “There is no need to raise your voice.”
“I am not raising my voice.”
She gave him a placating smile, which only annoyed Joel further. “Tell you what. Let's go to my office and go over the manual together. I'll show you where I had problems. If the tent design is all right, then the difficulty must lie in the way the instructions are written.”
“Christ,” Joel muttered under his breath. He forced himself to calm down. This was a juggling act, he reminded himself. He had to keep all the firecrackers in the air while he maintained his balance on the tightrope. The last thing he could afford to do was lose his self-control.
“Joel? I mean, Mr. Blackstone?” Letty's sea green eyes were widening with concern. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Nothing is wrong. Let's go back to your office and discuss the manual.”
“It's loose-leaf,” she said brightly. “It wouldn't be all that difficult to fix. We only have to correct the pages that are badly written and reprint them.”
“Thank you. I'll keep that in mind.” He took her arm and started toward the door.
“Wait. My shoes. And my jacket.” Letty tugged free of Joel's grip and darted across the room to grab her jacket and slide her feet into her shoes. She picked up her clipboard and started toward him again with another cheery smile. “Okay. I'm ready.”
Joel took hold of her again and steered her through the door and down the hall. “You know, Letty, this manual was written by experts.”
“That was probably the problem. But don't worry, Joel. This is an area where I can really be of assistance. I used to be a librarian, remember?”
“Only too well. I think about your real career quite a lot.”
“My former career,” she corrected neatly. “At any rate, one of the things I'm very good at is locating, analyzing, and summarizing information. I think I'll call in one of the tent designers and…Oh, are we going to take the stairs?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. Well, as I was saying, I'm going to call in one of the tent designers and have him tell me exactly what he was going for in this particular model.”
“I can tell you exactly what the designers were going for in this particular model. And I will be happy to do so as soon as we get to your office.”
Joel shoved open the stairwell door and hauled Letty through the entrance. He hurried her up the steps to the next floor. When they reached it, he set such a swift pace down the hallway that she was forced to skip once or twice to keep up with him.
She never once stopped talking about her plans for the manual revisions during the entire trip. Joel was ready to gag her by the time they walked through her office door.
Arthur, apparently having located his missing contact lens, looked up. His eyes darted from Joel to Letty. When he got a good look at his new boss, his eyes widened in shock. “Ms. Thornquist, are you all right? Did something happen?”
“A tent collapsed on me,” Letty said. “Think nothing of it. I expect that sort of thing is just one of the job hazards around here. Any messages, Arthur?”
“Yes, ma'am. A Mr. Rosemont called and said to tell you that your new apartment is ready. You can pick up the keys today.”
Letty smiled with obvious delight. “Wonderful. I am more than ready for a place of my own.” She started toward the inner office. “Come in, Mr. Blackstone. Let's get to work on that manual.”
Joel gritted his teeth. He was not accustomed to taking orders from anyone, let alone an interfering, unpredictable librarian who thought she could run Thornquist Gear. He stalked past Arthur's desk, aware of the secretary's barely concealed curiosity. Bigley's expression reminded him of Cal Manford's a few minutes earlier.
He could see in Bigley's eyes the same question he had seen in Manford's: Who's in charge around here?
Joel knew if he did not get things back on track quickly the entire staff would begin questioning the chain of command.
He closed Letty's office door with a solid thud and paced across the room to the window. Letty sat down at her desk and opened the manual.
“Let's start at the beginning,” Letty said, turning pages swiftly.
“Yeah, I think maybe we'd better.” Joel turned and walked back toward her desk. He planted both hands on the polished wood surface and leaned forward. “Ms. Thornquist, I don't think you quite understand the command structure here at Thornquist Gear.”
She raised her head and pushed her hair out of the way so that she could gaze at him with owlish concern. “I don't?”
“Let me spell it out for you. This is a corporation. I don't know how things are handled in an academic library, but around here the chief executive officer is in charge.”
“I realize that a CEO's function is to see to the day-to-day operation of the company and make the executive decisions.”
“Good. I'm glad you've got that. Now, then, it is crucial that the president of the company not undermine her CEO's authority in the presence of others. She must appear to place her entire trust and confidence in him. Is that clear?”
Letty began to look uneasy. “Of course. Are you trying to tell me that I'm undermining your position here at Thornquist Gear?”
“Not yet, but it could happen if you continue to treat me like a very expensive executive assistant. I am not a gofer, Ms. Thornquist. I am the one who's supposed to run this company.”
“Oh, dear. I never meant to treat you like an assistant, for heaven's sake.”
He saw the appalled guilt in her eyes and barely controlled a smile of satisfaction. Much better. “People are starting to wonder who's in charge. That question must never crop up around here. Do you understand that, Ms. Thornquist?”
“Yes. Yes, of cour
se.” She looked suitably subdued now.
Joel took his hands off the desk. “This is your company,” he said gravely. “You have a right to learn as much or as little as you wish about it. But if you start casually countermanding my decisions or criticizing my actions in front of others, we're all going to be in big trouble. People can sense a power struggle going on at the top the same way sharks smell blood in the water.”
“But there is no power struggle.” Letty watched him anxiously. “I fully respect the fact that you're in charge and that you've been doing an excellent job with this company for the past ten years.”
“Thanks. Then do us both a favor and don't interfere with the day-to-day operations. You'll only confuse people and make them question my authority. Do you understand that, Ms. Thornquist?”
“Yes.”
Joel relented when he saw the genuine apology in her eyes. He gave her an encouraging smile. “Now that we understand each other, what do you say we go over this manual?”
She nodded quickly. “All right. I'll tell you where I first started running into problems.”
Joel listened to her with half of his attention at first. It had worked, he thought. He had controlled her without losing command of the situation. The firecrackers were all up in the air again. Like taking candy from a baby. He just had to be cautious, he warned himself. Letty Thornquist was a bright little thing, just as Charlie had once told him.
An hour later Letty leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms high over her head. The action pulled her blouse free from her skirt again and added intriguing new wrinkles to her gray jacket. “So what do you think about my ideas for the manual revisions?”
Joel drummed his fingers on the desk, frowning intently at the loose-leaf page of instructions in front of him. His business instincts were now at war with his need to keep Letty's inquisitive little nose out of company affairs.
His business instincts won out. She had a valid point, he was forced to admit. Damn it, he should have field-tested the new tent and its manual on a couple of amateurs.
“Okay, I can see where we might have a couple of problems with the instructions.” A thought occurred to him. He looked up expectantly. “So why don't I put you in charge of getting the manual corrected?”
She glowed with enthusiasm. “Sounds like a good idea.”
“Might as well take advantage of your talents.” The assignment would keep her busy and out of trouble for a while. Idle hands were dangerous hands.
“Mr. Blackstone?” She cleared her throat, glanced over at the door to be certain it was closed, and then lowered her voice. “I mean, Joel?”
“Yeah?” He flipped a page in the manual, wondering why he had not paid more attention to it right from the beginning. Novice campers would want the simplest step-by-step instructions.
“I was just wondering.” Letty tapped a pencil on the desk. “You know I'm moving into my new apartment this evening.”
“So I heard. Congratulations.” He turned another page.
“Well, I was, uh, wondering if you'd like to come over for a drink and dinner tomorrow night. To help me christen the place.”
Joel raised his head swiftly. “What?”
She blushed, but her earnest eyes held his. “A drink. Or something. A few hors d'oeuvres. Dinner, maybe? Look, if you're busy, I'll understand.”
“No. I'm not busy tomorrow night.” Joel felt his insides clench. He closed the manual with great care. “I'll bring the champagne.”
She hadn't invited Joel over to help her celebrate moving into the new apartment on a whim. She had been thinking about it for days but had almost chickened out after he read her that polite little riot act in her office.
Letty winced in recollection as she opened the oven door to check on the lasagne. She was mortified to think she had been accidentally stepping on Joel's toes during the past two weeks.
He had been running things for ten years. He no doubt felt somewhat proprietary toward Thornquist Gear, and he had every right to feel that way. And she certainly understood the importance of a clear chain of command in any organization.
But she owned the company, she reminded herself. She had every right to become familiar with its operation. It was her responsibility to do so.
The buzz of her new phone interrupted Letty's contemplation of the lasagne. She closed the oven door and snatched up the receiver. Her heart sank as she realized it might be Joel phoning at the last minute to tell her he couldn't make it.
“Hello?”
“Letty, is that you?”
The cultivated masculine voice was unmistakable.
Letty frowned. “Yes. Yes, it's me, Philip.”
“It's about time,” Philip Dixon observed. “I've been trying to get through to you for days. Do you realize your secretary has been refusing my calls? I've been checking Directory Assistance every day for a week. I knew that sooner or later you'd get an apartment and your own phone. What is going on out there? Are you all right?”
“Of course, I'm all right.” Letty struggled to follow what he was saying. “What do you want, Philip?” Another thought struck her. “And what do you mean, my secretary has been refusing your calls?”
“What I want is to talk to you, Letty my dear. I've been trying to get hold of you since you disappeared. I called your father's mountain cabin on one occasion, and a rather rude individual named Blackstone hung up on me. Were you aware of that? He actually had the nerve to claim he was your CEO.”
“He is.”
“Well, you'd better start thinking about getting rid of him,” Philip said. “I can tell from the one short conversation we had that he's not the kind of man you want working for you at Thornquist Gear. Very blue-collar. Letty, my dear, what is going on out there? I was told you'd quit your job here at Vellacott without even giving notice.”
“I did.”
“Darling, that's so unlike you. You never used to be so rash.” Philip's voice softened. “It was because of us, wasn't it? Letty, you must believe me when I tell you I regret what happened in my office that day more than I can say. I assure you, it meant nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
“It meant something to me.”
“Darling, she was just a grad student. It wasn't serious.”
“It was serious, Philip.”
“Letty, I did not want to have to say this, but I'm afraid I must.”
Letty cringed. Philip was moving into his lecturing mode now. “What is it you feel you have to say?”
“That unfortunate incident in my office would never have occurred if our relationship had been normal.”
That stung. “I didn't realize you thought our engagement was abnormal.”
But with a flash of guilt, Letty admitted to herself that it had been abnormal and she was the one who had made it that way. The engagement had lasted only a month and a half and during the last two weeks of it, Letty had been pulling back emotionally. And as for the physical side of things, she knew only too well that she had never really given much at all.
On the surface, Philip had all the qualities Letty had been searching for in a husband, plus a couple of extras. He was strikingly good looking, for one thing—tall, urbane, and golden-haired. More importantly, however, he was from her world. They had a great deal in common, or at least Letty had thought they had a lot in common. Philip was intelligent and well educated, and he seemed eager to undertake the responsibilities of a husband.
He had started pressing her for sex the minute his engagement ring was on her finger. She had held him off until that point because of her deep-seated, old-fashioned need for a firm commitment. Once she had the commitment, Letty told herself she had no more excuses for resisting his requests for sex.
With hindsight she realized that the fact that she had been searching for excuses in the first place should have been ample warning.
A few short, unfulfilling bouts in bed with Philip Dixon had confirmed Letty's secret fears. Her limited sexual experience before P
hilip had made her wonder if she was truly unresponsive but she had told herself it was simply that she had not yet met the right man.
After Philip, however, Letty had been forced to face facts. There was a growing possibility that she was not a very sensual woman.
At twenty-nine she was old enough and well read enough to know that some women were not able to have orgasms easily. Some never had them at all. According to one article, estimates of the number of women who never experienced a genuine climax were shockingly high.
Before Philip, Letty had told herself she could live with that unpleasant reality. It did not mean that she could not have a reasonably happy marriage and children.
After Philip, though, she had to wonder if it might very well mean just that. If she could not fake enough of a response or work up sufficient enthusiasm in bed to hold Philip's attention, she probably would not be able to do a good enough acting job to fool any man.
No one was more self-centered than Philip, and even he had noticed her unresponsiveness.
When she went to bed with Philip the first time, Letty had been realistic enough not to expect the earth to move. But she had been hoping for some increased sense of intimacy, a feeling of developing a stronger bonding with him.
Tonight Letty realized that her most clear-cut memories of those few sputtering occasions in bed with Philip were mostly of his muffled grunts and groans. He had reminded her of a certain familiar barnyard animal at the feeding trough.
For her part, she recalled only being grateful the entire process did not take very long.
In reality the engagement had already ended in Letty's mind even before she walked into Philip's office a few weeks ago and found Gloria the grad student on her knees in front of him.
“Philip, I don't know why you're calling, but I really wish you would hang up. I have things to do.”
“We were having problems in our relationship,” Philip said, ignoring her protest with typical arrogance. “We should have faced those problems together. I should have helped you deal with them in a reasonable, mature fashion. I've been giving our situation a great deal of thought, and I've come to the conclusion that you need professional help, my dear.”
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