Who's the Boss?

by Jill Shalvis

  “She did a good job,” Vince noted casually.

  “But...I told her to answer phones.” Baffled now, he looked around. He hardly recognized his surroundings; everything looked so good, so dean. So...uncluttered.

  “She’s done much more than just answer phones,” Vince said, somewhat accusingly. “She’s made this place, Joe. You should tell her. Thank her.”

  That Vince was right didn’t help, but how to explain what he’d known all along? Caitlin could drive him off the brink. She was sexy, and yes, dammit, smarter than he wanted to admit.

  This, he told himself harshly, was what happened when he went against his better judgment. He hadn’t wanted to work with her. Had tried to find a way out of it. But short of breaking his promise to a man who’d meant everything to him, he hadn’t found a way.

  “Here’s the general ledger that Darla called about. It’s right here, in the accounting stuff, just where it should be.”

  Joe groaned, knowing the ledger that Darla had been asking for was two weeks overdue, and one thing Darla wasn’t, was patient. He’d had it on the front desk, but apparently his efficient secretary had taken care of it for him.

  He would have to face Darla, too.

  The phone rang again, this time from a slimy used-car salesman Joe wouldn’t have turned his back on. When he realized that Caitlin had called this guy, looking for a used car she could afford, his stomach actually cramped. She’d lost her car.

  Dammit, Edmund. Why?

  He hung up on the sales-scum, then promptly took another call. It was the building electrician. The wiring in his kitchen was faulty.

  Faulty.

  Joe grit his teeth as he listened to the man explain how the entire kitchen could have gone up in flames instead of just blowing up the coffeemaker.

  It hadn’t been Caitlin’s fault—neither time.

  He was rotten to the core.

  BY THE END of the week, Joe was losing it. Really losing it. For days, he’d been making a new career out of staring at his computer. Sometimes, for variety, he swore at it.

  But the final straw came on Friday.

  Caitlin didn’t show.

  He was in his office with Darla when Vince informed him that Caitlin wasn’t coming in.

  “Good, maybe I’ll get something done for a change,” Joe said with bright relief for Darla’s and Vince’s benefit. Meanwhile, his insides sank. A weekend was coming up. Now he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of her for three days. Not one look at those huge, haunting brown eyes. Not one peek at her full red mouth that he knew damn well was more addicting than any drug. Not to mention her other notable...parts.

  Worse, he’d have no one to spar with. Oh, he could pick on any of the techs. Or Darla. All of them could be counted on to give as good as they got. Except Tim, who usually just pouted.

  But no one gave him what Caitlin did. A run for his money. A kick start to a whirl of emotional adrenaline he hadn’t experienced in far too long, which itself was good enough reason to stay clear of her. He didn’t need to feel that attachment. Didn’t want to.

  Nope. In fact, he should be ecstatic that she wasn’t coming in, and his temper stirred when he realized he wasn’t even close. “Is she sick?”

  “No.” Vince moved to the door. “She’s moving tomorrow and needs to do some stuff.”

  “What?”

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  To the amusement of both Darla and Vince, Joseph yanked up the phone and called her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were moving?” he demanded when he got her on the line.

  “What does that matter?” came her surprisingly weary voice. “But I’m sorry about today. I’ll be there Monday.”

  She hung up on him.

  The nerve. No one had ever— “Vince,” he barked as his poor tech was trying to escape. “She’s moving? By herself?”

  “Yeah.”

  He’d paid the mortgage, dammit!

  “I told her I’d come tonight to help her pack. She didn’t want me to, but I’m going anyway.” He hesitated. “Actually, she sounded poorly. I think I’ll just go now.”

  Joe swore again. Darla lifted her brows and glanced at him. The knowing light in her eyes was hard to take.

  “Fine,” he said stiffly to Vince. No problem, he was fine with it.

  Vince left and Darla smiled. “Okay,” she drawled. “Where were we? The expenses, I believe.” She lifted her pencil and smiled at him.

  “Yeah. The expenses.” He tried to concentrate. He didn’t want to think about the woman who’d set his world upside down with one sweet smile and a little chaos. Because then he’d have to admit that Caitlin’s presence wasn’t so much an intrusion as a breath of fresh air. That having her around didn’t disrupt him nearly as much as his feelings for her.

  “We agreed that you were going to capitalize—”

  And his feelings for her were driving him crazy. “I just can’t.”

  “Okay.” Darla shrugged. “I’ll talk you into the capitalization thing later.” She tapped the spreadsheet. “About the revenue.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I can’t.” His head dropped with a loud thunk to his desk. “This is out of control.”

  “Not you,” she said with amusement. “Not the king of all control. Smooth, unruffled computer whiz Joe Brownley, paving the way for the offices of the future...”

  “Darla?” His voice was muffled against the wood of his desk.

  “Hmm?”

  “Shut up.”

  “I’d love to, darling,” she said smoothly, sympathetically rubbing his back, “but I need your tax info.”

  “Take it,” he begged. “I need some peace.”

  “Yeah?” She pondered this as she worked on the knots of his shoulders. “Been rough, huh?”

  “Worse.”

  “Then I guess now is not the time to tell you that Caitlin did most of the grunt work on this accounting.”

  He lifted his head. “What?”

  “She’s a little math wizard, Joe.”

  “She’s a...” He closed his eyes. “I’m such an ass.”

  “Undoubtedly,” she agreed. “But stop sweating the small stuff.” She tugged him back up. “And get to the meat of it.” She tapped the paperwork in front of them. “Tax time, buddy.”

  But all he could think was that Caitlin had sounded so sad. So alone. And she’d done his accounting while he’d ribbed her intelligence, mocked her at every turn.

  “Let’s get a move on.” Darla looked at him, her eyes sparkling with humor. “Unless, of course, there’s something else—or somewhere else—you need to be?”

  Vince is probably nearly there. “Just get on with it,” he urged, needing to be sidetracked. Vince was perfect for her. Perfect.

  “Okay.” Darla shoved some papers beneath his nose. “I need you to...”

  Nice, sweet, caring Vince, he thought sarcastically. Caitlin needed someone and the superterrific, infallible, all-around-perfect man Vince was going to be it.

  Darla sighed, loudly. “Joe, you’re not paying attention to me. I think I should be insulted.”

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “You didn’t.” Her voice was kind. Amused, but kind. “But stop mooning over her. It’s unattractive.”

  “I’m not mooning.”

  “Sure about that?”

  “Yeah.” Vince would probably offer consolation, maybe a hug, and that would lead to a kiss. Dammit! Joe knew how incredibly Caitlin kissed, so he could only surmise where that would lead, and— His heart stopped, ice-cold at the thought. “No!”

  Darla smothered a smile and shot him an innocent look. “Is that no, you don’t want to expense your equipment out all in one period?” She tucked her tongue in her cheek. “Or no, you don’t want Vince to get a piece of my assistant?”

  In one smooth, angry motion, he rose and moved to the door. “She’s my assistant, dammi
t. You can’t have her.”

  Darla let her smile loose. “Joe, sweetie? Give her a kiss for me, would ya?”

  “Bite me,” he retorted, and slammed the door.

  9

  CAITLIN DIDN’T KNOW if she could handle the humiliation, but at this point, she was almost beyond caring.

  “Nice,” Chastity murmured, sugar dripping from her voice. She held her wrist up to the light, where the tennis bracelet glittered with three carats of white diamonds. “How much did you say, darling?”

  Caitlin glanced at the bracelet and tried to harden her heart at selling off the only piece of jewelry she’d ever gotten from her father. “It’s part of the set,” she managed to say. “You have the list.”

  “Yes.” Chastity gave her a cool glance, then reappraised the other items spread out over Caitlin’s dining-room table. “You’re still giving me all the furniture at the price we agreed on?”

  It was far, far, less than what everything was worth, Caitlin knew. But despite the fact she’d just gotten a call from the mortgage company, and now knew Joe had bought her some time, she still couldn’t afford the place, which only made her all the more desperate. Chastity, snob that she was, was prepared to give her a check today because she ran the private charity auction house that would come to cart Caitlin’s stuff away. That the two women used to run in the same circle only added to Caitlin’s humiliation.

  But what could she do? She needed fifteen hundred to cover the check she’d just written for first, last and security deposit on her new apartment. Shack would have been a more accurate term, but it would put a roof over her head, and at the low monthly rent, she could just afford it. The proceeds from the sale of the jewelry would help cover the cost of a new—and very used—car.

  She’d also finally figured out that she wanted to go back to college and get a degree, in something involving numbers. She could do it at night, work for Darla during the day—soon as she quit working for Joe—and she’d be fine. Just fine.

  Right. And pigs could fly.

  In spite of everything, though, a little burst of pride zipped through her. She’d be supporting herself, and it felt so good she almost could have hugged Chastity. Almost.

  The knock at the door took her by surprise. So did the sight of Vince standing there.

  “Hi,” she said, panic welling. Not this. She could handle having to sell everything. Having to move. But she couldn’t take having a friend watch. “Why aren’t you at work?”

  “I wanted to help pack.”

  “No! I mean...I’m fine. I told you on the phone. I’m just fine.”

  Chastity came up behind Caitlin, and eyed Vince with open curiosity. Caitlin moved to try to cover Chastity’s view and prayed the woman would keep her mouth shut.

  “You sounded...funny at work,” he said in a low voice, keeping his eyes on Caitlin’s instead of on the tall, model-beautiful woman behind her. She could have kissed him for that alone, but desperation moved in.

  “As you can see, I’m really doing okay.” She managed a smile that only made him frown harder.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m really busy. I’ll see you—” She started to close the door, but he blocked her.

  “I want to come help you move tomorrow,” he said firmly, lifting his gaze for the first time and eyeing Chastity with mistrust.

  “Hello, there,” Chastity purred, and Vince nodded before looking at Caitlin again.

  “I’ll come early, okay?”

  “Fine.” She pressed on the door, knowing it would be faster to agree than argue. His help would be welcome, and so would his support

  “Wait.” Vince pulled an envelope from his back pocket. “I brought your paycheck. I thought you could use it.”

  She took it without much enthusiasm, knowing it wouldn’t make a dent. “Thank you. See you tomorrow, Vince.” Before he could protest, she shut the door on his tense, worried face.

  And felt like a jerk.

  “Was that your boyfriend?” Chastity asked slyly. “He’s awfully cute for a redhead. All that warm concern and those burning green eyes.”

  “He’s not in your tax bracket,” Caitlin said dully, and Chastity laughed.

  Caitlin opened her check and did a double take. Joe had given her a raise. A big one. Her heart squeezed painfully. More pity? she wondered. Or something deeper?

  “Is Vince part of CompuSoft?”

  Lifting her gaze from the surprising amount of money in her hand, she asked, “What do you know about CompuSoft?”

  “There’s lots of buzz about the company’s future.” Chastity’s eyebrows rose. “And of course, its owner, Joe Brownley.”

  Caitlin went still, her raise momentarily forgotten. “You know him?”

  “I met him once. At one of your father’s fantastic parties. I think you were in Paris at the time. Or maybe it was Milan. I can’t remember. He’s really something.”

  “My father?”

  “Keep up, darling.” Chastity again admired the bracelet on her sleek, tanned wrist. “Joe Brownley. He had every woman at that party drooling. And to think, now you work for him.”

  “Drooling?”

  Chastity shook her head. “You sound like a parrot.” She sank to the leather couch and ran her fingers lovingly along the back. “I just might keep this one for myself—you have such good taste.” She sighed in pleasure and leaned back. “What was I saying? Ah, yes. Joe. A tough-talking, amazing-looking bad boy if I ever saw one. I love them like that, all nasty attitude and an insatiable sexual appetite.”

  Joe and Chastity. Weak, Caitlin made herself ask, “Did you two...”

  “No, I’m sorry to say. But it wasn’t for lack of trying on my part, let me tell you. The way that man fills out a pair of jeans could make a grown woman beg for mercy.”

  “Could we just get on with this?” It hurt. Not losing her things—they’d never really been hers to begin with. Not having to move; since she’d truly begun to crave her own place filled with her own stuff, purchased with her own money.

  What hurt was something else entirely, something horrifying.

  She missed Joe. Missed his smart-ass comments, his from-the-gut laugh that always jump-started her own. Missed his sardonic grin and his piercing light blue eyes. His deep understanding of life and its intricacies. One day without him, and she ached.

  She was in trouble.

  “I’ll take everything,” Chastity said, brandishing her checkbook. “All of it.”

  The doorbell spoiled the relief. “Who now?” Caitlin muttered as Chastity excused herself for a minute, needing to use the telephone.

  Caitlin made her way past the open boxes she’d already started to pack. At the front door, she hesitated, putting a hand on her inexplicably rapidly beating heart. Then she pulled on the knob, only to have her heart stop completely.

  Joe had his arms braced against opposite sides of the jamb. His head had dropped between his shoulders, so that when she opened the door, she could have leaned forward an inch and kissed him.

  He lifted his face and pierced her heart with his gaze. He didn’t move, didn’t smile, just looked at her.

  Her entire body responded, going weak and strong at the same time. Every sense became heightened so that she felt his look as she would a touch. When she spoke, her voice wavered. “You paid the mortgage on this place until the end of the month. Then you gave me a raise.”

  “Ask me in, Caitlin.”

  That would be a disaster. She lifted her paycheck and waved it under his nose. “Why, Joe?”

  “Ask me in and I’ll tell you.”

  “Was it guilt? Or pity?”

  “All right,” he said evenly, pushing past her to step into the foyer. “I won’t wait to be asked.”

  “Joe—”

  “Where’s Vince?”

  She narrowed her eyes at his low, deceptively soft voice. “How did you know he was here?”

  “Where is he?�
�� His jaw tightened as he tried to peer around her. “Upstairs?”

  “Up— Of course not!” She put her hands on her hips. “I don’t want you here. I—”

  He gripped her waist and hauled her to him. She felt as though she’d stepped off a cliff into thin air, as if she were falling in slow motion, slipping, gliding in weightlessness. Her heart beat hard and high in her chest “Back off.” She grabbed handfuls of his hair, meaning to push him away, but somehow ending up pulling him closer instead.

  She shook. So did he, she could feel his muscles ripple against her. Their eyes locked, her breath came even quicker. “Joe—”

  He claimed her mouth with his. She opened to him, hot and hungry. Hands still clasped in his hair, she changed the angle of the kiss and dived deeper, swallowing his incoherent masculine murmur of pleasure.

  She wanted him, not just to hold, not just for a few stolen kisses and not just for comfort, though she wanted that, as well. She wanted him in a way that she’d never wanted anyone before. Crazy, she told herself. Insane. She couldn’t afford to be thinking about this, about him. Not with her world falling apart. But she kept kissing him. Kept holding him.

  He lifted his mouth from hers, but kept her close. “If you let Vince do that...”

  Slowly, the words computed past her own dazed brain. “You came here because you thought I could...with Vince...that we...” With a sound of pure frustration. she pushed him away. “How could you even think it?”

  Bitterly disappointed, she tried to move past him.

  Joe caught her around the waist and placed her between the wall and his muscled body. There was no doubt that he was angry when he kissed her this time, but he kept at it, nibbling and possessing until the temper evaporated into hot, delicious passion and she was kissing him back with everything she had.

  When he finally released her, her body throbbed and tingled. It only marginally satisfied her to see his chest heave with his own unsteady breathing.

  With a surprisingly gentle touch, he tucked her wayward hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. You confuse me.”

  “It makes two of us,” she assured him. “I didn’t even let Vince in, Joe. And he didn’t force his way in, either.”

  “I never claimed to be a gentleman, princess.”