by Jill Shalvis
“You were picking on me.”
“I was not picking on you.” He stopped, drew a deep, ragged breath. “Forget the zip drive, okay? Just answer the phone. Nothing else.”
She thought of his disastrous files, which she had started to organize. She could have the office fully operational in no time. “But—”
“No buts.”
He hadn’t fired her.
This man was not nearly as tough as he thought he was, which made her smile. She would fix his office, and he’d see just how valuable she could be.
He’d need her then...and she liked the sound of that.
“Now—” he pointed to the phone “—there are two lines, and the first one—”
“Thank you, Joe,” she interrupted softly, laying her hand over his.
He yanked his hand back and scowled. “Pay attention. Our phones are ringing off the hook right now because of the merger. A lot of our customers—”
“Customers?”
“We design and sell software. We also provide the tech support.”
“That’s what Tim, Andy and Vince do?”
He nodded. “Among other things. Just find out who it is they need to speak to. Put them on Hold, then use the intercom in our offices and we’ll pick up.” He pointed to another series of buttons, but Caitlin’s mind began to wander. She lifted her head and encountered the most expressive light blue eyes she’d ever seen. “Do you wear contacts?” she wondered out loud.
“Caitlin.” His nostrils flared. “You’re not paying attention.”
Paying attention was hard when he was so darn magnificent. He stood there, leaning over her, wearing that fierce expression—his jaw all tight and his sexy mouth hard—and suddenly, she wanted to kiss him.
Bad idea, she decided, and ducked her head. “I’m sorry. I’m listening now.”
Vince came out of his office, took one look at Joseph’s tense face and changed directions from the kitchen to Caitlin’s desk. “Joe,” he said quietly, “Tim needs you. He’s having trouble with a control panel and wanted me to let you know.”
“He’ll have to wait a minute.” Joe rubbed his temples. “I’m training Caitlin.”
Caitlin’s stomach tightened uncomfortably with the now familiar feeling of stress. She hated it.
“I’ll help her,” Vince suggested, tactfully slipping in between Joe and Caitlin and giving her a shy smile. “After all, I’m the one who trained the last hundred secretaries you scared off. What’s one more?”
There was her hero, Caitlin thought. Too bad his smile didn’t stop her heart like Joseph’s did.
“Good luck,” muttered the modern-day pirate as he escaped scot-free.
“Don’t worry about him.” Vince grinned, which went a long way to relieve Caitlin’s tension. “He doesn’t have much patience. He’s far too focused.”
“Well, I hope he focuses somewhere else this morning while I organize this place. It’s a disaster.”
“Um...maybe you shouldn’t.”
He was worried and it made her smile. “I can do this. You’ll see.”
“But Joe—”
“Doesn’t know how good I am.” She patted his hand. “You’ll see,” she repeated.
TIM AND ANDY CAME through a short time later, looking for fun, as they always did on their break.
Tim toed the controlled mess she had on the office floor, and whistled slowly. “What’d Joe say about this?”
Caitlin had to smile. “After complaining about how late I was, and then my clothes, he sort of ran out of steam. I’m sure he’ll get to it the next time he happens by, but I’m hoping to file all this away by then.”
Tim looked nervous. “Maybe I should help you,” he suggested. “No use riling him up.”
He was afraid she’d get herself fired, and it was so sweet she smiled in spite of her own nerves. Besides, she refused to put Joe in a position where his men had divided loyalties. She’d caused enough trouble. “I’ve got it covered,” she assured him.
“What’s wrong with your clothes?” Andy wanted to know, looking her over in frank appreciation. “They look plenty good to me.”
“He said I needed more,” Caitlin told him. Both Tim and Andy protested loudly, only to fall completely silent when Joe came into the front office.
He took one look at them hanging around the reception desk, and his jaw went impossibly tight.
Caitlin imagined he’d have quite a headache if he kept it up. “I’ve got the phone down pat, boss,” she said sweetly.
“Terrific.” Joe glanced pointedly at the two techs, and they scattered, each offering muttered excuses.
Caitlin’s stomach growled, loudly, into the silent office.
Joe raised an eyebrow. “Hungry again?”
“My stomach’s funny that way. You’d think since I ate so much yesterday, it’d still be satisfied.”
He frowned. “You haven’t eaten since yesterday?”
That wasn’t quite what she’d meant to say, but now that she thought about it, she’d only snacked last night on the last of a stale bag of pretzels. She’d never gotten to dinner.
Then, this morning, she’d skipped breakfast because of her missing car, not to mention an empty fridge. What with bus hopping, she’d been too upset to eat anything, not that she’d had much choice by then.
Joe sighed at her silence, took her arm and pulled her up out of her chair. They headed for the door. “Come on,” he said gruffly.
“Where?”
“To feed you, dammit.” They were in the hallway, walking at his pace, which was nearly a run for Caitlin in her heels, when her stomach growled again.
Joseph’s own stomach tightened as he remembered all too well what hunger felt like. “How did you make it this far without a keeper?” he demanded abruptly.
Under his hand, her arm went rigid. So did the rest of her. “I had one, but he died.” She yanked her arm free and met his steady gaze. “Remember?”
Yeah, he remembered. And now she was looking for another keeper. He refused to be it. Horrified that he’d nearly fallen into that position because he’d felt sorry for her, he backed up a step. Distance. He desperately needed distance.
“Don’t worry, Joe.” Her smile was brittle. “Even if I wanted another ‘keeper,’ you’d be the last man on earth I’d choose.”
Heels clicking, hips swaying, attitude popping, she moved away from him, down the hallway.
Out of some sick need to continue sparring with her, he followed her.
The elevator ride was silent and awkward, with her throwing mental daggers and him deflecting them. When the doors opened, she left without a word.
Again he followed.
Outside the office building, she took a deep breath, then jumped a little when she saw him. “Do you miss him?” she asked suddenly.
He didn’t have to ask who, and yes, God, how he missed him.
The streets were filled with lunch-hour traffic, both motorists and pedestrians. The crowd was busy, noisy...and impolite. People shoved past them, around them, mumbling and grumbling as they went on with their day.
“Do you?” she asked quietly.
“Yes.” He swallowed past the familiar stab of pain. “I miss him a lot.”
She nodded and watched the people. The light breeze tossed her short skirt about her incredible thighs. Joseph’s unhappy thoughts shifted and he concentrated on her body. When she crossed her arms tightly over her middle, her full breasts strained against the material of her jacket, making serious thought difficult, if not impossible.
“I do, too,” she admitted so quietly he was forced to lean closer. Now her exotic, sexy scent teased him, and he inhaled deeply, torturing himself.
“But I don’t understand...why did he do this to me?”
Edmund had served her a direct hit, and Joe felt uncomfortable with her grief and confusion, because he was just as grief stricken and confused.
“You were friends with him,” she said. “You were friend
s, but we aren’t.”
She was fishing. She needed, yearned...and he ached for her, but he’d never told a lie in his life, not even to save someone’s feelings, and he wouldn’t start now. “I’m sorry.”
She looked at him, accepting his silent admission that no, they were not friends. “I want us to get along.”
How to tell her that he didn’t? That he “got along” with very few people, and he liked it that way. That the only reason he ever “got along” with a beautiful woman was to “get it on.”
“I don’t want to be someone you have to baby-sit.”
“That’s good. Because I don’t baby-sit,” he said.
“You were dragging me off to feed me,” she pointed out, ignoring a nasty remark from a harassed-looking woman who had to walk around them on the sidewalk. “I work for you from eight to five, but what I do before or after shouldn’t be your concern.”
“Then eat, dammit!”
“Yeah, that sort of...um...reminds me...” She bit her lip. “How often do we get paid?”
All his annoyance fled as he stared at her. His stomach suddenly hurt. “Are you that out of money?”
She paused. Shrugged. “Sort of, yeah.”
Damn. “Today. You’ll get paid today.”
“I don’t want your pity. I just want to know when we get paid around here. Weekly, biweekly, what?”
“Don’t,” he said harshly, and when she flinched he lightened his tone with effort. “I know what it’s like to be hungry, to not eat because there’s no food.” He rubbed his belly, almost feeling that bone-gnawing hunger from his youth all over again. God, he hated this. A little panicked now, because she made him feel things he didn’t want to, he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out whatever bills he had in there, slapping them into her palm. “Take this. It’s an advance.”
Horrified, she glanced downward, then pushed the money back at him. “No. I’m not the local charity case.”
“Take it.” He shoved the money into her jacket pocket. A mistake. Through the material, he could feel her warm flesh.
“I told you yesterday that I can do this,” she said a little shakily as she backed away from him. “I can handle being on my own just fine. I don’t think you believe that, but it’s true, and I’m going to prove it to you.” As she took another step back, she enunciated each word. “I can take care of myself.”
“Wait,” he called out when she turned and took off down the street.
Of course she didn’t wait. She never did as he asked.
He could have caught her easily. In those ridiculously high heels, she was hardly moving faster than a quick stroll, but he knew she needed to be alone. She’d resent him intruding now. It would hurt her pride. And he knew all about pride.
Still... He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, but he just kept doing it. He hated how that made him feel.
Why, Edmund? he wondered for the umpteenth time. Why have you done this to me?
Vince came up beside him, watching Caitlin disappear into the crowd. “You have such a touch with women, Joe,” he said dryly.
“Hey, most of them like me.”
“None of them ‘like’ you. They want you. Some for money, some for that reputed charm of yours, but none of them because they like you.”
Someone else might have taken offense to Vince’s honesty, but Joe always appreciated it. “Look who’s talking,” he countered. “I don’t see you married or anything.”
“But you will.” Vince stared into the crowd where Caitlin had disappeared. “You will.” A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Tell me you didn’t fire her.”
“We’ve done fine without a secretary before.”
Joe and Vince went way back, but Joe had, in all that time, never seen Vince’s temper. He saw it now. The redhead flushed from roots to neck, and his eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe you did it,” he said furiously. “Fired another one! And she was the nicest, sweetest one we ever had.”
“Sweet?” Joe laughed. “Nothing that looks that good is sweet, believe me.”
Vince was disgusted. “If I didn’t know better, Joe, I’d say she scares you.”
“She terrifies me. She’s going to destroy our office.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I didn’t fire her, Vince,” he said wearily.
Vince relaxed marginally. “But you wanted to.”
“Look, I’m stuck with her because of a stupid promise. Yeah, I wanted to.”
“Not, that’s not it—it’s not the promise,” Vince said as he studied his longtime friend. “I know you better than that. You’re running scared.” He shook his head in amazement. “And I thought you were fearless.”
“I’m not afraid of her.”
“Uh-huh. Well, whatever you do, don’t hurt her. I like her.”
Vince’s voice gave away nothing, but the way his eyes were trained on Caitlin’s disappearing figure in the crowd did. Not that Joe cared, but Vince clearly did like Caitlin. A lot.
He’d probably even ask her out eventually, Joe thought, his gut tightening yet again.
Caitlin would probably say yes.
Dammit. He really hated working with women.
6
FOR ONE ENTIRE AFTERNOON, Caitlin didn’t see Joe. He was at meetings with the bank, with customers, with who knew whom else.
She was thankful for the respite, which gave her the peace and quiet and nerve to do as she’d threatened. She’d reorganized all the files and now everything was clean, tidy and in its place.
By chance, she’d intercepted the bank statement for the business checking account when it had arrived in the mail. Because numbers had always mysteriously called her, she went ahead and reconciled his statement on her break. She would have and could have easily closed out the month, but picturing Joseph’s face, she didn’t quite dare.
Vince, Tim and Andy were thrilled with the way the office looked, and how smoothly everything was running. It was amazing how big the place seemed once the floors were clear and it wasn’t like walking through a maze just to cross the rooms. Caitlin had no idea how Joe would feel about it, but she could bet he wouldn’t offer the joy and easy acceptance she’d gotten from the techs.
However he reacted, he couldn’t avoid her forever, or discount that strange, unaccountable attraction between them that flared up at the most annoying of times.
Every time they looked at each other, there were sparks.
It went deeper than the physical, far deeper, for there existed between them a bond she couldn’t deny, and it made her as wary of him as he was of her.
Caitlin was studiously avoiding any serious relationships out of self-preservation. She knew from experience with her father and her fair-weather friends that close relationships brought only pain. Disappointment. Loneliness.
Being on her own was better. Easier.
Either Joe had learned that lesson, too, or he simply didn’t like her.
That day he’d given her an advance from his own pocket, she’d come back from her lunch break to find a paycheck on her desk, handwritten by him. The gesture hadn’t surprised her. Beneath his rough and tough exterior, she had a feeling he was a big softie.
She laughed at herself. A softie. Right.
Well, now she had one paycheck and her pride. It was the latter that allowed her to keep a stiff upper lip in those dark moments when despair threatened, when she cried herself to sleep thinking about her father and the way he’d abandoned her.
She knew all her father’s assets were gone, divided among his friends and associates, but she didn’t know why. For the first time, she decided she deserved answers. She called his attorney, but because he was out of town for the next week, she had to leave a message.
Feeling marginally better, Caitlin sat on her bed and reviewed her mail. It was a particularly bad mail day, each envelope hiding a big, ugly, nasty bill, all of which were at least second notices.
But the last one really caught her eye—a not
ice to vacate her condo.
The bank was finally going to sell.
She’d known this moment would come sooner or later, but she’d been hoping for later, much later.
Why, she wondered for the thousandth time, hadn’t her father paid off her car or her condo? And unfortunately, at the time of his death, he hadn’t taken care of any of her credit cards, either, which left her in a position where she couldn’t even charge her way out of the mess.
One thing was for certain—she couldn’t continue to live as she had. She plopped back on her bed and contemplated her ceiling and came to the only conclusion she could—it was time to sell off everything she had of value, before the bank came and claimed it.
Then she could create a whole new life for herself. A lot less luxurious life, but she could handle that. Already, she’d discovered some of the joy of taking care of herself. For one thing, her new friends—Vince, Andy, Tim, even Amy—they were all real friends. They wouldn’t desert her because she wasn’t heir to a fortune. They couldn’t care less, they just liked her.
Her.
That was a new and welcome surprise.
They liked her for being Caitlin, not for where Caitlin could take them.
It was possible that way down deep, she’d been waiting for this, wishing for the chance to prove to herself she could make it on her own, without any help.
Seemed she was about to get her wish.
DARN IT, but she was late again.
“You had to stop to talk to that lost homeless lady,” Caitlin berated herself as she raced down the street, her purse flapping behind her. “Had to worry about her instead of yourself and your job and your undoubtedly furious boss.”
Huffing and puffing, she dashed into the office building that housed CompuSoft. Because her lungs were threatening to explode right out of her chest, she sagged against the wall in the downstairs reception area, trying to catch her breath.
“Close to the quarter-century mark,” she muttered out loud, “and already in pathetic shape.”
“Caitlin? You okay?”
Holding a hand to her chest, she turned to face a startled Vince, who had one of Amy’s scrumptious doughnuts in his hand.