“There’s someone behind me, isn’t there?” Kim said.
“Yep.”
Turning slowly, Kim’s gaze met with the top button of Chaz Monroe’s perfectly pressed blue-and white-striped shirt.
* * *
“Miss McKinley,” Chaz said, reverting to formality to get over the shock of seeing her in the building after last night’s anticlimactic rebuff.
Here she was, and he felt slightly taken aback.
“Mr. Monroe,” she said, refusing to glance up at him as she took a step back.
She was perfectly tidy, dressed in a knee-length black skirt and a lavender sweater that covered her hips and other notable curves. Her fair hair fell softly toward her shoulders in a sheet of gold. The lips that had mesmerized him were freshly stained pink.
She looked ravishing. No evidence of a sleepless night showed on her face. There were no dark circles under her eyes. Not one eyelash seemed out of place. Had she dismissed him and what had nearly transpired between them so quickly, when he hadn’t slept a wink? When his thoughts never strayed from her, and what he might say if she showed her pretty face on this floor?
Chaz cleared his throat. “You’re working today?”
She still hadn’t glanced up, though Chaz sensed she wanted to meet his eyes as much as he wanted her to. The electricity crackling between them hadn’t diminished because of what had happened the night before. If anything, it was worse.
His wish list hadn’t changed, he realized. His lust for this woman was now the size of a bloated balloon. Office or no office, and decorum be damned, he desired Kim McKinley more than ever. He’d start to work on that mouth of hers if given the opportunity, and torture it into a grin. He would offer half his earnings to be able to earn her smile, her trust, and to hear her laugh.
“I’m only in for an hour, then I’m off on that vacation I mentioned,” she said, her voice unreasonably calm.
“Are you going someplace nice?”
“I’m going home,” she said.
Brenda got to her feet, as if that were her cue to jump in. “I’ll help with those last-minute details, Kim, so that you can get out of here.”
They were presenting a united front against him. For a minute, he actually envied Brenda her closeness to the woman he had come near to bedding. Again, though, it was a new day, and he’d deal.
“Okay. Have a good time.” His tone was commendably casual, reflecting professional interest and nothing more. “By the way, have you decided on whether you’ll be returning after that vacation?”
“I’m thinking on it. I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Kim’s tone suggested to him that she wasn’t going to let him ruin a good thing if she could help it, and also that she expected him to mind his manners if she did decide to keep her job.
Checkmate.
“Great. I’m sorry the party didn’t work out for you,” he said. “Maybe next time.”
Kim raised her chin defiantly. Their gazes connected. Chaz rode out the next jolt that came with the blaze of inquiry he saw in those greenish eyes. He didn’t want to push her buttons. Not now. Research awaited him. He had been able to access a few things about her background in those sleepless hours of the night, though nothing personal enough to give him a leg up on her issues.
“Yes. Maybe next time,” she said.
He inclined his head and muttered in parting, “Ladies.”
When he turned, he felt Kim’s eyes on him in a gaze intense enough to burn a hole in his back. She was angrier than ever, though she looked to be in control of her emotions this morning. They were continuing to play this strange game with each other, with the outcome unclear.
This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. If she returned after that vacation, he would probably desire her more. When she left, he’d miss the spark of whatever existed between them.
Did this make him a lust-sick idiot?
He shrugged.
Back in his office, Chaz picked up the phone and hit a number on speed dial. He hated to make this call, since he’d been trying to beat big brother Rory at his own game for more than a year...and maybe all his life. Other than his own personal need to be successful, Rory was always in the background setting the gold standard as far as the family business was concerned. Those business dealings weren’t actually supposed to achieve the status of a competitive sport, but things between the brothers had turned out that way.
However, this wasn’t all about business.
A male voice on the line answered in a brisk tone. “It’s early, bro.”
“I need some help, Rory. As my elder, I’m sure you’re obliged to listen, in spite of the hour.”
“I’ve been at work for three hours already, Chaz. It’s not like I just got up. I call this early-rising routine CEO Stamina. It does my heart good to see that you’re getting with the program.”
Chaz sat back in his chair. “I need some intel.”
“On a company?”
“On a woman.”
Rory chuckled without bothering to hide it. “Well, that’s a first. But you do know how to use the internet?”
“Tried that, and nothing pertinent turned up. I’d like to use your information source.”
“Must be an interesting woman,” Rory remarked.
“She’s an employee.”
“Do you suspect agency espionage?”
“I suspect she might have an interesting background that forces the issue of a contractual dispute.”
“Is this employee attractive?” Rory asked.
“Would that matter to your source?”
“Nope. Does it matter to you?” Rory countered.
“Nope. So do I have your permission to contact Sarah?”
“With my blessing. And bro?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s your ETA for getting that agency ready to flip? I have another business you might be interested in when you get the money out of your first big acquisition.”
Hell, he had only owned this agency for a week.
“Still working on it,” he said. “It’s too early to tell how long it might take.”
“Well, it doesn’t pay to hang on for too long. You might become vested and actually see yourself as the head of a firm. Buy, fix and sell is the key.”
“The family mantra,” Chaz agreed, unwilling to think about the ramifications of Kim finding out he had planned all along to sell the company once it was on its feet.
“Want some more unasked-for advice?” Rory said.
“I’m all ears.”
“Mom would appreciate a call now and then. She says it’s been two weeks.”
“Wherever does time go?” Chaz muttered before disconnecting.
That hadn’t gone too badly.
As for Kim, he didn’t really owe her anything. He just wanted to play fair. In pursuit of fairness, he’d get the intel on her lined up. Sarah Summers was Rory’s secret weapon for finding things out. A grad student at M.I.T., Sarah specialized in what amounted to cloak-and-dagger information trading. She might be considered a hacker for her rogue-like pursuits, but no one was quite sure how she did what she did, and the results were more than satisfying. Over the last couple years, her reports had added a lot of bucks to the Monroe family business coffers.
If Kim had anything in her background to find, Sarah would be the one to find it. Chaz didn’t need any more office intrigue or rumors spreading about that casting couch Kim mentioned. The situation would be out of his hands until Sarah got back to him. In the meantime, Kim would be gone, and he’d be able to keep his mind where it belonged...on business. Definitely not on McKinley’s ultrahot body, or the look in her eyes when Brenda’s call had come in last night—the look showcasing betrayal and pain.
Other than
Kim and Brenda, not one person at the agency knew he had bought this company in order to turn a quick profit, and that he hadn’t planned on remaining here for long. He sure as hell didn’t plan on becoming too comfortable, or being overly involved with employees’ personalities. He had just inadvertently gotten stuck on the issue of a very tempting blonde.
After the sale, and after he departed, Kim might gain access to the job she coveted. Win-win? He’d move on, and she’d move up. If she got her promotion with somebody else in charge, he’d be off the hook, and this would work in his favor in terms of the possibility of getting to know her better.
That scenario might, in fact, solve everything.
But, his annoying inner chatter reminded him, Kim would probably still have to capitulate on the holiday clause in her contract, or risk being overlooked for the promotion by the next owner. She’d be hurt all over again. She’d be crushed.
Interestingly enough, he couldn’t stand the thought of Kim suffering.
He had gone soft.
It looked a lot like Chaz Monroe cared too much about his employees already. Some of them, anyway.
One of them.
Chaz rubbed his temple as he stared at the phone. Certainly it appeared as though big brother Rory didn’t linger for long on those kinds of things. If he did, he never spoke about it, or let on. Then again, it was entirely possible that Rory wasn’t human. Did Chaz actually want to emulate the successful business profile of an alien?
He absently tapped on the desk with his fingers. He had not lied to anyone here. Owners went undercover all the time to ferret out business details. With the agency running smoothly and well in the black, the next owner would be crazy not to keep things the way they were.
As for Kim, the best thing for her and his conscience both would be to help her in any way he could, and then back away. He’d have to shelve his feelings for her in order to make sure she got what she deserved. And okay, so he was way too addicted to her. He could hide that, get over that.
At least he could try.
Leaning forward, he punched another number into the phone and waited until someone picked up. “Mom,” he said, “about that party...”
Eight
“She’s gone,” Brenda said when Chaz appeared in her cubicle an hour later. It was probably just as well, he decided, because he hadn’t actually thought out what he’d say to her now that he was here.
In spite of the arguments and his sense of fairness where Kim was concerned, he wasn’t ready to just let her go away, maybe for good, without dealing with her future at the agency. Until he heard back from his intel source, he was willing to try to change her mind on this holiday issue one more time. The Monroes never backed away from a good fight, especially if there was a reward at the end.
“Fine,” he said to Brenda, reordering his thoughts on the new challenge and how he’d have to play it. “It’s you I came to see, anyway. Can you help me in Kim’s place with the party event?”
Brenda raised an eyebrow. “The party that is no party?”
“Oh, there’s a party, all right. Did she tell you there wasn’t?”
Brenda swiveled in her chair. “Now I’m confused. But just so you know, I won’t do anything else that involves my best friend’s feelings for you or her job.”
Chaz withheld a grin. “She has feelings for me?”
“You don’t want to know about the name-calling,” Brenda replied. “From both of us.”
“I suppose I deserved that for my behavior at her apartment, but there is a party, and I do need help. Can I count on you?”
Brenda blinked slowly. “Depends. Are you offering the same deal you gave Kim? Time off after the holidays and a nice bonus?”
“Yes. Okay. Same deal.”
“You’ll sign that in blood? Your blood?”
“Brenda, I might remind you that I’m the owner of this place and have something better than blood.”
“Power?”
He smiled.
“And we’re not supposed to know about you owning the agency, or let that get around, right?” Brenda said sheepishly. “Though a couple of us do know that?”
“You’re a heartbreaker, Chang. I had no idea blackmail made the world go around.”
“I believe I said nice bonus.”
“To which I agreed.”
“So, will you appear at my apartment if I refuse, and...?”
“Never. That’s a promise.”
“Darn.” Brenda smiled back. “Oh well, with an offer like that, how can I refuse? I may have to use the bonus to help support my friend if she leaves the job.”
“I’m not sure Kim would like our deal,” he said.
“I’m positive she won’t,” Brenda agreed. And the really good part, Chaz knew, was that Brenda wouldn’t be able to resist running to Kim with this bit of news. He only hoped that Kim might react the way he hoped she would, and face him down. Again. At least he’d get more time with her if that happened.
Fighting with her was better than not seeing her at all, he had just that minute decided. At least in theory.
* * *
Kim hustled to the floor beneath her office, where the art department had their space. Just one more detail to take care of, and Monroe would be out of her hair for at least seven days. She wouldn’t have to think about him, dream about him or convince herself to despise him.
Going home to her mother’s meant dealing with things she had been avoiding since her mother’s death. She hadn’t set foot in that house since, and had dreaded going there for ages before that.
Because Kim was an only child, the house and all of her mother’s belongings were now hers. She should have relished combing through her mother’s things for remembered treasures. The fact that she didn’t look forward to it piled on more guilt.
She read somewhere that emotions can attach to objects, and she wanted nothing that might remind her of the problems they had shared. Had she loved her mother? Absolutely, and maybe too much. Witnessing the level of her mom’s nearly constant self-inflicted pain and suffering had become too much for one daughter to bear. She hadn’t been able to keep up with the treatments and the arguments and the ups and downs of her mother’s diagnosis of clinical depression.
This was the season that had kicked off the whole thing in the first place. December. Christmas. Betrayal. Would those things be contagious with her mother gone? Did houses retain the sorrow and joys of the people who had lived in them, or would her mother’s house be just a house, empty and waiting to be dealt with?
She had given that house six months to let loose of its old memories and feelings. It was high time she dealt with this.
The art department had been waiting for her, and took less time than she had anticipated to finish up what she needed. On her way out, someone stopped her with a painting on a piece of white cardboard and a question.
“Do you like this rendering?” Mark Ogilvie asked, showing her the board. “It was done super quickly, but I thought I’d run it by you before you left on vacation.”
“Sorry, Mark?” Kim took the board.
“The special Christmas party you and Brenda are doing as a favor to Monroe.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Kim flipped the board upright. It took her a minute to understand what she was seeing. Then it dawned. On that board was a watercolor rendering of the party Monroe had asked her to do. The party that she believed wasn’t really a party, and a complete sham.
Decorated tables, wrapped packages, ice sculptures, servers dressed up like elves—all of this had been painted in sparkling detail from Mark’s artistic point of view, and it was a beautiful, magical wonderland.
Her heart stuttered. She sucked in a breath. Closing her eyes briefly, Kim handed the painting back to Mark. “T
his has nothing to do with me. Sorry.”
He looked perplexed. “Can you get it to Brenda then, if you’re on your way back up? She requested it about twenty minutes ago as a top priority.”
“I don’t think Brenda...” Kim didn’t finish the protest. “Twenty minutes ago, you said?”
“She told me to show it to you on your way out. She made me promise to catch you before you reached the elevator.”
Kim forced a smile. “Okay. Thanks. This looks terrific, Mark. I’ll take it right up to her. I’m sure Brenda will tell you the same thing.”
It took every ounce of strength she possessed to walk toward the elevator with the painting in hand. Brenda had given her a heads-up on some new turn in the tide, and this painting said it all. Monroe was at it again, with Brenda this time.
Had Brenda somehow fallen for his line? After not getting his way with her, had Monroe moved on to her friend with hopes of luring Brenda into bed?
“Monster!”
When the elevator arrived, Kim got on, punched the floor button with the edge of the painting and clenched her teeth. Monroe’s antics were so unacceptable they were the definition of ludicrous. She wasn’t going to take this lying down. Neither would Brenda.
She wasn’t going back to Cubicle City. She’d ram this painting down Chaz Monroe’s throat for causing yet another hitch in her exit strategy.
“Monster,” she repeated, causing two other employees occupying the elevator with her to glance her way. “Brute.”
Surely Brenda wouldn’t fall for his nonsense after their conversation on the matter of Monroe’s lack of integrity and business ethics. Brenda wouldn’t have provided this heads-up if Brenda hadn’t known the score.
She stormed out of the elevator, strode briskly to the offices and past Monroe’s secretary, Alice.
“Kim?” Alice said, standing up.
“Personal matter,” Kim tossed back as she reached for the door handle of the office that should have been hers, but now kept the king of jerks tucked inside.
Monroe was there. He stood with his back to the window, watching her as she entered. He was looking more attractive than she had allowed herself to remember from only an hour ago.
The Boss's Mistletoe Maneuvers Page 10