Who's the Boss?

by Jill Shalvis

  “Did her father have a place?”

  “It’s been sold, but yes, I checked there, too. And the hotels and motels in the area.” And the hospitals, the police station, and out of sheer desperation, three of the closest shopping malls. He’d even driven to Amy’s apartment, after he’d begged the landlord for her address. No one had answered.

  Caitlin had vanished, and he’d never in his life been so sick or guilt-ridden.

  “So you screwed up already, huh?”

  Vince. He’d been suspiciously absent earlier this morning. Joe surged to his feet, rage ready. “Tell me where she is.”

  Vince shot him a half smile. “Flattering that you think she’d come to me.” His smile faded to disgust. “All you had to do was love her, Joe. She’s like the most perfect woman ever made. What was so hard about giving her your all?”

  “Tell me, damn you.”

  Both Tim and Andy wisely slunk back, out of sight.

  Vince just shrugged. “I don’t know any more than you do where she is, but I’ll tell you this. If I find her first, you won’t stand a chance in hell.”

  Joe searched his face for any sign of deception and found none. He sank back to his chair in defeat. “You really don’t know where she is, do you?”

  Stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets, Vince leaned back against the wall and shook his head. “Do you think she’s all right?”

  Joe’s anger abruptly drained. “God, I hope so.” Shoving his fingers through his hair, he leaped up again, unable to sit still. He started pacing. “I’m the biggest idiot on earth.”

  “Nah.” Vince managed a grin. “Well, maybe. But at least you’re the richest one. I can’t believe how much they’re going to pay for that system, Joe. Not to mention the royalties. I just can’t believe it.”

  “All we have is a very small, preliminary commitment from one phone call. They still have to test it, prove to themselves it does what I say it does,” Joe warned soberly. “I hope you’re not disappointed I decided to sell it rather than market it ourselves.”

  “Are you kidding? If it works out, you just set me and the twins up for life.” Vince’s joy faded. “But how about you? Are you set up for life, as well?”

  Joe looked out the window. Below, the city was flowing smoothly into evening traffic. The streets were crawling with commuters, seething with activity. He sighed. “Not until I find Caitlin.”

  TWO DAYS LATER, Joe was out of his mind with torment. How could Caitlin have just disappeared into thin air?

  It amazed him, the turn everything had taken. In just two short days, he’d gotten a request for a complete new system, one that would keep him busy for a long time to come. This, on top of a bid for the system he’d just completed. They’d offered about five times what he’d expected, which should have been the thrill of a lifetime. If Edmund were alive, he’d be cackling over the fact that suddenly Joe had more money than he.

  But Edmund wasn’t alive, Caitlin was gone and the victory meant nothing.

  His phone rang and he leaped at it, heart pounding. “Yes?” he barked, hope cruelly flaring.

  “Joe, could you come up here?”

  Darla. Hope deflated, leaving despair. “I’m busy.”

  “You always say that.”

  “I can’t face the tax stuff right now, Darla,” he said quietly. Outside his window, two flights down, a young woman walked, holding a toddler’s hand. The little girl, awed by the size of the buildings around her, craned her head upward and seemed to stare right into Joseph’s eyes.

  God, I want one of those, he thought as his heart constricted. I want a family, and I want it with Caitlin.

  “Please come, Joe,” Darla said into his ear, her voice no longer friendly, but urgent. “You won’t be sorry.”

  He stared at the receiver after she hung up. Darla never asked him for anything unless it was absolutely necessary. So it was with a sigh that he left his office and headed toward the elevator.

  When he entered Darla’s suite minutes later, she rushed out of one of her offices and yanked him into another before he could draw a breath.

  “What the—”

  “Shush.” Darla locked the door and shoved him into a chair.

  “Darla,” he said slowly, carefully, straightening. “This is flattering, but—”

  “Shut up, Brownley.” Darla slapped her hands on her slim hips and glared at him. “I can’t believe how slow you are.” She paced the room. “I promised not to get involved and normally I’m pretty good at promises, but I’m reneging on this one. It’s going to cause problems, but I think maybe it’s worth it.”

  He was getting dizzy watching her pace. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I haven’t got the details figured out yet. She’s much, much smarter than I gave her credit for, but I think if you—”

  Joe went still. “Darla.”

  “It should work. I think if you really play it up right, she’ll feel so sorry for you, she’ll have to give in. For some reason, she’s a sucker for you, which does work in your favor.”

  It was difficult, very difficult, to remain calm with his heart blocking his windpipe. “You know where Caitlin is.”

  Darla stopped pacing and looked at him as if he were an idiot. “Of course I do.”

  Slowly, in order to not kill her before she gave him the information he needed, he advanced on her. “Tell me where she is. Afterward, you can tell me why you kept it from me for nearly three days when you knew how much this meant to me.”

  Darla’s eyes went soft with regret, but she kept the presence of mind to back up. “I’m sorry, Joe. But she was so hurt, and you really messed things up. She begged me to keep quiet, but now, after watching her work while trying not to mourn over you, I think I did the wrong thing by promising not to tell you. I think she really loves you. And I know you love her too, way deep down in that black heart of yours.”

  He came closer, and her words came faster. “So could you do me a favor, a really big one?” She rushed her words. “Could you go out there and make my new full-charge bookkeeper-in-training smile? Could you turn her grief into joy so that I can get some real work done?”

  That stopped him short. “You hired Caitlin?”

  “Well, you’ve seen what she can do with numbers. Besides, I like her.” Her face softened. “A lot.”

  “But—”

  “You should see the mind that lurks behind that ridiculous come-hither haircut...my God, Joe. She loves numbers almost as much as I do. She can’t answer the phones too well, and she tends to distract my male clients all to hell, but you should see her reconcile a checkbook. A girl after my own heart.”

  He was jerking the door open, nerves and hope singing through his veins. “You can’t keep her—she’s mine.”

  “Wanna make a bet?”

  When he growled, she laughed. “Let the best boss win,” she said diplomatically.

  She smiled when he slammed out. “I’m such a hopeless romantic,” she whispered, and sank into her chair to get some work done.

  IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON by the time Caitlin finished sorting out the bank account of one of Darla’s clients. It had been a mess of mismatched checks, wrong deposits and untotaled columns. At first, she’d panicked, but after looking closer, she’d gotten excited.

  It was a mess, but it was just a matter of shopping around for the right numbers—and no one understood shopping better than Caitlin Taylor. Besides, somehow, the mess appealed. Maybe because she so understood the misguided logic that had created the disaster in the first place. Maybe because she loved to sort and add and organize. Maybe just because she felt thrilled about feeling so useful. So purposeful.

  It should have made her very happy. It shouldn’t have had her gaze covered in a sheen of unshed tears.

  “No,” she muttered, blinking them ruthlessly back as she stuck her pencil into the electric sharpener. “I won’t cry another tear for him. Not one.”

  “I don’t blame you.”<
br />
  She nearly started right out of her chair at the sound of that familiar, unbearably sexy voice behind her.

  “Hi,” he said softly when she looked up at him. Slowly, he shut her office door. He walked over to her desk while her heart raced. He looked the same. Stone-washed faded jeans fitted to that long, lean, mouth-watering body. Simple white T-shirt stretched across his chest. Brown wavy hair falling over his forehead, as wayward as the owner. But it was his eyes, those light blue, all-seeing eyes, that stopped her heart.

  They held her, caressed her, refused to let her go.

  “Are you going to sharpen that pencil until it’s gone?”

  With a soft oath, she jerked it out of the sharpener. “What are you doing here?”

  He smiled at her, then took a little bow. “Your new secretary at your service, ma’am.”

  14

  CAITLIN COULD ONLY STARE at him. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

  Joe leaned a hip against her desk, propping his weight against it. “It’s simple. You’re so busy working the accounts, Darla hired me to...answer phones for you. And...” His gaze searched the room, and she wasn’t so far gone in her own misery that she missed the nerves and tension in his eyes.

  “And?” she prompted, uncertain.

  He lifted a shoulder. “And whatever else you need.”

  “What if I don’t need anything?”

  Now he looked desperate, as well as stressed. “I can make coffee,” he added, brightening. “Real good coffee.”

  She let out a little disbelieving laugh, but had no idea what to say. Her fingers fiddled on her desk for something to do. Grabbing another pencil, she shoved it into the sharpener.

  “Are you going to sharpen all your pencils now?” he asked conversationally. “Because I could do that for you.”

  “I don’t need any help from you.”

  “I understand.” His gruff voice clearly said the opposite. So did his hungry gaze as it swept over her. “I certainly brushed you off enough times, didn’t I?”

  “Is that what this is about?”

  “Partly.” He gave her a little smile. “You have no idea how good it is to see you, Caitlin.”

  “I’ve...been busy.”

  Undeterred, he slid closer, and his gaze was the most soul-shaking, heart-wrenching one she’d ever seen. “You scared me to death, you know,” he said quietly. “I’m not sure whether to throttle you or kiss you silly.”

  Unable to sit and calmly talk after all that had transpired between them, she surged to her feet. With lithe grace, he rose, as well, and they ended up toe-to-toe...face-to-face.

  “Neither appeals,” she said quickly.

  He touched her cheek gently, tenderly. “Why don’t we kiss and make sure.”

  It took every ounce of self-control she had not to throw herself at him. “There’s nothing left, Joe.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  “No,” she said, her eyes stinging. He’d not stopped touching her in that way he had, the way that told her how much he cared. “That’s how you feel.”

  “You’re wrong. There’s our future, for one thing.”

  She might have scoffed, except he was looking at her as though willing her to understand. She didn’t. “We have no future, Joe. The things I said—about loving you. I was mistaken.” She met his gaze and wasn’t at all satisfied to see the pain her words had caused. She faltered, and knew if he didn’t leave now, she’d crumple. “Please go.”

  The phone rang, and before she could reach for it, Joe smoothly scooped it up. “Ms. Taylor’s desk... No, I’m sorry. She’s unavailable at this time. A problem with your account?” He listened seriously. “I see. Okay. Hold on, I’ll get her.” Without taking his eyes off her, he hung up the phone.

  She gaped at him. “Are you crazy? That’s not how to put someone on hold.”

  “Oops,” he said mildly. “Sorry. Would you like to talk now?”

  She let out a baffled laugh. “Do I have a choice?” She wished he didn’t look so good. Wished she didn’t miss him so much that she was shaking with it

  He looked at her bleakly, all cockiness and self-assurance gone. “Where have you been, Caitlin? Have you had a place to stay? Enough money to get by? Dammit, are you even eating?”

  “God, don’t.” She made herself busy at the shelving unit against the wall. “Don’t talk to me in that voice. It makes me hurt.”

  He followed her, his big body sheltering her with warmth. “I hate it that you hurt. I hate that I caused it.”

  “Please,” she begged him, unwilling to break down in front of him. “Please, just go. I can’t handle this—”

  “If you’d just listen for a minute—”

  “I have listened to you! All my life, I’ve been listening to someone, blindly following. Well, I’m through with all that!” She was shouting now and she didn’t care. “I’m listening to myself for a change!”

  He held her close when she started to shake with anger, but then her anger was gone and it was grief making her tremble. “I’m listening to myself.”

  “The way I should have all along.”

  It was the steely quiet in his tone that made her look at him. “What do you mean?”

  His hands gentled on her, but he didn’t let go. “I’m sorrier than I can say, Caitlin. You tried to tell me so many things—how you needed more to do on the job, that your father had pretty much deserted you...the way you felt about me. I didn’t listen,” he said with disgust aimed at himself, “because I couldn’t handle how you made me feel.”

  “And how did I make you feel?”

  “Terrified,” he said without hesitation. “Caitlin, I know next to nothing about letting people close to me. Even less about families and love. I was never close to anyone until your father. I taught myself to hold back, to protect myself, because it was easier. I couldn’t get hurt that way.”

  “That’s no way to live,” she told him huskily. “I can’t live that way.”

  His smile was warm and completely unexpected. “I know. You throw yourself wholeheartedly into absolutely everything you do. You give it your all, one hundred percent of the time, not worrying first about whether you’re going to get hurt or not. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

  Afraid to read too much into his words, she crossed her arms over her chest and backed up a step, out of his reach so he couldn’t touch her. So she couldn’t touch him.

  “I cared when I didn’t want to,” he said. “I worried when I swore I wouldn’t. And, dammit,” he said roughly, his voice breaking, “I really need you to break in any time here and tell me you meant it when you told me you loved me.”

  Tears filled her eyes as she stared at him mute. Panic filled him. “Wait!” he said quickly, slapping his forehead as he remembered. “Wait a minute. I have to tell you first. God, I really stink at this.” He drew a deep, ragged breath and met her drenched eyes. “I fell in love with you, Caitlin. No matter how many times I told myself I couldn’t, that I wouldn’t, I did.” Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed her knuckles. “I love you hopelessly. Will you stay with me forever? Be my wife?”

  She looked at him for an eternal moment, for once her eyes shuttering her thoughts from him. “I don’t want to go back to work for you,” she said finally.

  What did that mean? he wondered wildly. But then, beyond the tears, he saw the teasing light in her expression. Relief, joy and a thousand other surging emotions rushed through him.

  “No offense,” she told him teasingly as a tear slipped down her cheek, “but Darla pays better. Much better.”

  “I’ll triple your salary,” he said without skipping a beat, cupping her face and swiping another tear away with the pad of his thumb. “Quadruple.”

  She tilted her head as she considered. “I get to do your accounting. All of it.”

  “Okay, but I’ll make the coffee,” he said quickly, flashing a sudden grin as his heart threatened to burst. “Caitlin. Te
ll me. Tell me you love me quick, that you forgive me for being such a fool. I’m dying here.”

  She smiled, a brilliant radiance spreading across her features. “I forgive you for being a fool. And I love you with all my heart.”

  “Thank God,” he murmured, yanking her against him. He kissed her, his mouth open and warm, receiving and giving, full of enough promises to last a lifetime.

  Lifting her head, she looked up at him, taking a moment to bask in the joy of their love. “Let’s talk benefits.”

  Eyes dancing with love and laughter, he pulled her close. “Anything you want, Mrs. Brownley-to-be. Anything you want.”

  “Well, there’s just a couple of little things....” She pulled him close and whispered her heart’s wishes.

  He made them all come true.

  Epilogue

  THE LETTER CAME one week after their wedding. Caitlin stared at her father’s familiar handwriting and her pounding heart landed in her throat.

  “What’s the matter?” Joe came up behind her, slipped his arms around her waist. Leaning over her shoulder, he frowned. “That’s Edmund’s writing. How—?” His arms tightened on her in reaction. “Where did that come from?”

  “The mail.” She patted his hand, knowing the gruffness in his voice was grief. “My father’s attorney sent it to me.” Quickly, with fingers that shook, Caitlin ripped open the envelope.

  As she read, her heart warmed, tightening in her chest until she thought she might burst with love and happiness. She whirled to face Joe, her eyes burning, her throat thick. In his gaze, she saw equal emotion, and knew he’d already read the note. “He loved me,” she whispered.

  “Very much,” Joe whispered back, bending to kiss her softly. “So much that he hid away a trust fund for you. He just wanted to be sure you’d be okay without him. Without his money.”

  “It says here that he always knew I was smart, tough—” Her voice cracked a little. “But he wanted me to know it, too.” She smiled through a haze of tears. “He’d have loved that we found each other. He was so proud of you.”