by Layla Holt
Lance inhaled deeply. "I suppose I didn’t do too good a job of maintaining my composure."
Dean glanced away. "No, you didn't but all is not lost. Build the morale back and we'll all be on board with the expansion plans."
"Ok.” Dean was right. There was still hope. All he had to do was work out a way to boost employee morale and get them excited again to be working for Candin Inc.
"Thanks," he said to his brother and turned to leave.
"Wait," Dean said. "There's something else I wanted to talk to you about."
Lance waited.
"I got you a new secretary," Dean said. "She's the niece of a friend of mine. She hasn’t worked as a secretary in years but she's qualified. Be kind to her."
"Great, thanks," Lance said, eager to return to his office. He had a lot of thinking to do.
"And Lance," Dean said and dread came over his Lance. He’d hoped that they would not discuss that issue again.
"Please stay—" Dean said.
"Stay what?" Lance exploded.
He was tired of it all. Tired of being accused and convicted without a trial.
"We should have gone to court,” Lance fumed. “I never dated her and I certainly never kissed her by force. Wy would I want to do that? I love women and they love me back. I’ve never had to beg a woman to go out with me. Why would I start now?"
His voice was raised and his hands were folded into fists. Heat flushed through his body as he remembered the last few months. His last secretary, a woman by the name of Patricia, had gone to HR and accused Lance of making unwanted advances on her.
Dean, being the company lawyer had negotiated with her lawyer and they had reached a settlement. What Lance did not understand then and now was why she had been paid. He was innocent. He'd never even looked at her in a remotely romantic way. She'd been his secretary, that was all!
"I know. All I’m saying is to be careful. It’s a legal nightmare when a boss is accused of unwanted advances, not to mention expensive," Dean said.
"You should have let it go to court," Lance said. "I had nothing to hide and I was innocent."
"These things don’t always go how you think they will. It’s better that it went the way it did,” Dean said. "Anyway, forget about that. It's over and done with." He held Lance's arm. “Just remember what I said...”
He glared. “I’m not a fool Dean.”
Dean had the grace to look embarrassed.
Lance felt bad. It wasn’t his brother’s fault. “How’s Ruby by the way? I haven’t seen her in a while.”
The mention of his brother’s wife had the desired effect of bringing a smile to his face as Lance had known it would. A part of him envied his two older brothers, Adrian and Dean.
They looked so happy with their lives. He doubted it would ever happen to him. He’d never experienced any of that mushy stuff that made his brothers walk around with stupid grins on their faces.
Not once had he ever fallen so hard for a woman that it made him smile just to hear her name mentioned. It puzzled him.
“She’s fine,” Dean said and then leaned closer. “We haven’t told anyone yet as it’s early days, but we’re pregnant.”
Lance grinned. Now that was good news. He punched Dean's shoulder. “Congratulations. Wow, the grandkids are really coming now, aren’t they? Mom and dad will be pleased.”
"Yes, they will," Dean said. "Don’t mention anything to mom. Ruby wants to be the one to tell her."
"A little hard for mom and I to be talking about babies," Lance said. “I’m happy for both of you. "
CORRINE LOOKED UP WHEN she heard heavy footsteps headed her way. She adjusted herself in the chair and looked up with a smile. She had a feeling that she was about to come face to face with her new boss.
She should have been nervous but she wasn’t. Corrine had discovered an advantage to being ugly. She had stopped caring what people thought about her, especially men. She did and said what she wanted to. Now, she arranged her face into a smile and waited.
Moments later, he walked in and all air left her lungs. He was not anything close to what she had expected. He had dark sexy looks but it was his eyes that captured her attention. They were dark but when he got closer to her, she saw that they were actually grey-black.
He placed his hands on the desk and leaned towards her so that their faces were only inches apart.
"You must be my new secretary," he said. "The one Dean was telling me about."
He spoke in a lazy drawl as though he had all the time in the world. His voice was like a caress, making heat sizzle over her skin. His masculinity was like a scent emitting off him, grabbing her and making her ache for things she once had. Corrine shivered.
He narrowed his eyes. “What the heck happened to your face?”
His words were like a stone thrown into a calm pond. It rattled her brain and for a moment she couldn’t think as she tried to reassemble her thoughts.
His crude honesty rocked her core. No one had ever asked her about her scarring that openly. People stared when they thought she was not looking. Or whispered amongst themselves and she could easily imagine what they were saying.
Have you seen her face?
What could have happened to cause such awful scarring?
Her boss had no business asking her something so personal. She jutted out her chin. “Nothing.”
“What do you mean nothing. Were you born like that?” he pressed on.
She decided to play it dumb. “Like how?”
He straightened up and looked at her as though she had lost her mind. "You have scars on one side of your face.”
She touched her face as if he had brought her attention to something she was not aware of. Like she didn’t know that her face was scarred. She wore a look of horror. “Oh my goodness! How did this happen?”
He stared at her long and hard, turned around and stormed into his office.
She grinned. That was the most entertaining morning she had had in a long time. She hoped it wouldn’t cost her her job. That thought quickly wiped the grin from her face.
Corrine stared at the screen of her computer and wrestled over whether to follow him into his office or wait until he called for her. Luckily the decision was taken out of her hands when another astonishingly handsome man walked into the office, his eyes the same color as her new boss's.
Except this one looked like a boxer with wide shoulders to match and biceps that strained against the sleeves of his shirt.
He smiled. "Hi there. You poor thing, is this the only job you could get? Was it at the very bottom of your list?”
Her eyes widened in shock and he laughed.
"I'm joking, Lance is a darling to work for. You couldn’t have picked a better boss. " He struck out his hand. "I’m Jaime, Lance's brother, and you are?"
"Corrine Roberts," she said with a warm smile. For some reason she liked him immediately. “Shall I tell Mr. Cohan that you're here?"
"Sure," Jaime said and strolled to the window which overlooked the parking lot. Corrine smoothed down her skirt, inhaled deeply and knocked on Lance's door.
"Yes!" he barked from inside.
She pushed the door and stepped in. "Your brother is here to see you," she said.
The corners of his sensuous mouth lifted into a hint of a smile. "Should I guess which one?"
"How many of you are there?" Corrine asked.
"Five brothers and a sister," Lance said.
Corrine gasped. "Six kids? From one family?"
She could not imagine such a big family. She did not have a sibling and her father's only sibling was Aunt Maureen and she had no kids. Her mother had also been an only kid. “Do your parents remember all of you?"
Lance went still for a moment and then burst out laughing. He had the nicest laugh, she admitted grudgingly. A hearty laugh that she wanted to hear over and over again.
Corrine caught herself. What was the matter with her? Her boss's laugh was none of her business. The only
business she had with him was as his secretary.
"I got tired of waiting," a voice by her side said.
Embarrassed, Corrine muttered an apology. She had completely forgotten about Jaime. He strolled into the room and sunk into one of the leather seats opposite Lance's. She shut the door and returned to her desk.
She had just sat down when the phone on her desk rang. She picked it up gingerly.
“Em...what did you say your name was?”
“What?” Corrine barked.
“Your name. Okay. Whatever. Just come into the office. You do know how to take notes, don’t you?”
Corrine gritted her teeth. That was so offensive. Who forgot another person’s name minutes after been introduced and after conversing with them?
“Yes, I know how to take notes,” she said. She grabbed an iPad and hurried into his office.
"Come in and sit down," Lance Cohan said and gestured at the chair next to Jaime’s.
“It’s Corrine Roberts,” she said in clipped tones.
Jaime chuckled. “What a promising start to a professional relationship.”
“Can we do this?” her boss said impatiently.
She placed the iPad on the desk and rubbed her hands on her thighs. She shouldn’t be so nervous. She'd worked as a temporary secretary countless times in her dad's college for years. She knew how to take notes and all the other duties that a secretary performed.
A glance at her boss and she knew that he was the source of her discomfort. She'd never had such a physical reaction to a man. As he and Jaime chatted, she studied him and tried to decipher why he should affect her so.
She'd met more handsome men but what was different about him was an animal-like energy. Potent. Dangerous. When he trained those intense eyes at her, her whole body reacted and she wanted to...
Chapter Three
"WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN mind?" Lance said and tried to keep his glance on Jaime.
At first glance, his petite secretary seemed docile but the moment she opened her mouth, that impression was quickly quelled. Like the way she had entered his office and snapped her name. She was funny in a sarcastic, rude way but he found it refreshing.
"Adrian was right you know," Jaime said. "Employee morale is at an all-time low."
"We've already established that," Lance said testily. Jamie was given to long-winded speeches that could put a person right to sleep. Lance suspected that his brother loved the sound of his own voice.
"Okay, here’s my idea," Jaime said. "We could have a bring-your-family-to-work day."
"What?" Lance said. What the heck was Jaime talking about?
"This is a factory Jaime. It's dangerous and the environment must be sterile for the safe production of chocolate. Bringing strangers to walk all over the place is a recipe for disaster."
Jaime glared at him. "That’s why it’s called brainstorming."
Lance felt lost. Lack of employee morale was something they had never encountered when their father was in charge. People loved their jobs and they gave their all to their jobs.
He knew the reason why that had changed. It was job insecurity. No one was about to lose their jobs but their father had been a figure of security to them. Most of them had known Lance’s father from the early days and his departure frightened them.
It didn’t help that, though he and Jaime were alike, their thinking was analytical. Coming up for fun ideas to them was akin to walking up the Rockies barefoot. Painful and near impossible.
"You could have a series of events that will culminate in one major one. The climax," his secretary said without raising her glance from the iPad.
He looked at her with interest. "Go on."
"Maybe have a ping pong table and a series of matches over lunch hour. Pair people up," she said. "Meanwhile, we could be raising money for charity. When a team loses, they pledge an agreed amount of money for the charity kitty. The winners get to decide which charity gets the money."
She looked at him and her face colored. "I'm sorry, I should have kept my mouth shut."
"No, it's fine," Jaime said, leaning forward in his chair. "I like that idea. I like it very much."
"Jaime likes any sentence that has the word charity in it," Lance said in a dry tone. "But I agree with him. It's a good idea. Do you have any more ideas where that came from Corrine?" He liked the way her name rolled off his tongue.
"Well, we could make Friday ice cream day," she said and let out a small laugh. "It is summer after all."
Lance chuckled. "I’d bet good money that you love ice cream?"
"Who doesn't?" Corrine said.
"Which is your favorite flavor?" Lance asked her. As soon as the question was out, he wanted to take it back.
"Strawberry," she said.
The same color as her lips.
"This is a very interesting and productive conversation but I have to go. I’ll organize for the ping pong table and let me know what else you need me to do," Jaime said and pushed his chair back.
"Sure," Lance said.
When he shut the door, Lance turned to Corrine. She sat with the iPad arranged neatly on her lap. "Thanks for that. Jaime and I were a little lost there."
"You're welcome," she said and smiled.
She was beautiful when she smiled. Her lips curved into a bow shape, revealing perfectly arranged teeth. He was curious about the scar on the left side of her face.
Whilst it was extensive, it gave her face character. Made it memorable. A face that would not blend in with other pretty faces. Lance took a deep breath and reminded himself that Corrine was his secretary.
That meant that she was out of bounds. He didn’t care how kissable her lips were or how cute the freckles scattered across her nose were. He wouldn't touch her with a stick. After that business with Patricia, he'd learned his lesson.
"I want us to go over your duties and update my schedule," he said, his voice professional and devoid of the earlier playfulness.
They worked steadily for the next twenty minutes.
"You'll need to update the to-do list during the course of the day depending on the correspondence that comes in," Lance said.
"Yes sir," Corrine said.
"Please call me Lance," he said. Why had he said that? He'd never invited his previous secretaries to call him by his first name, though they ended up calling him Lance.
Disconcerted with his behavior, Lance wound up the meeting. "Oh, and make a few calls and see which company can deliver us ice cream on Friday.” He sucked in a breath and tore his gaze away.
He refused to follow her with his eyes as she left the room.
CORRINE GOT READY TO leave the office at five on the dot. She had to, if she was to pick up her Aunt Maureen at quarter past five as they had agreed.
She knocked on Lance's door and entered. "If it’s okay with you, I’m done for the day."
He smiled. Her heart took on a faster beat. God, what was the matter with her? She was behaving like a school girl with a crush.
"Thank you for a good day," he said. "I think we'll be awesome together."
If only. She mumbled a response and hastily shut the door. She was a fool. A complete fool. It was her first day at work and already she was fantasizing about her new boss. What an idiot.
It was a good thing that he couldn’t read her mind. He'd laugh at her outright. Even without the horrible scarring on her face, she wouldn't have attracted the likes of Lance Cohan.
Corrine had no illusions about herself. She was homely and now with scars, she was unsightly. There was no other word for it.
She knew Lance's type. And she wasn’t it. When she got outside, to the parking lot, all thoughts of Lance flew from her mind. She stood next to the driver’s door breathing in and out.
She could do this. She had no choice. All she had to do was unlock the car and slip inside. With trembling fingers, she fished for the key in her handbag and unlocked the car. She slipped in, banged the door shut and sat there hyperventilating.
Her movements jerky, Corrine inserted the key in the ignition and turned it. The engine roared to life. Relief flooded her. Painstakingly, she reversed the car out of the parking slot and drove away from Candin Inc.
It took her a lot longer than fifteen minutes to reach downtown. Luckily, she got a parking space right at the front of the gallery. She jumped out and hurried in.
Corrine headed straight to the stairs and sprinted up to the second floor where Aunt Maureen's studio was. She knocked and entered.
Her aunt was so engrossed on the painting she was working on that she did not hear Corrine enter. She stood and stared over her aunt's shoulder at the landscape that was slowly taking shape with every masterful stroke of her aunt's paintbrush.
Corrine had once dreamed of being an artist but her fingers did not agree. They were stiff when they held the brush and it hadn’t taken long to know that her talents did not lie in that direction. Still, she liked to paint for fun and to destress.
She must have made a noise because Aunt Maureen turned to her, startled. Her face lit up into a smile. She had the same red hair as Corrine, held at the top of her head in a messy but cute bun. "A sight for sore eyes," she said. "Have you been standing there for long?"
“A few minutes,” Corrine said with a warm smile. “It was fun watching you work.”
She went across the room and automatically started tidying up. Then she took the crutches leaning across the table and handed them to Aunt Maureen.
"How was your day?" Aunt Maureen said as she hobbled out of the room and Corrine followed.
How did you describe a day filled with so many conflicting emotions and a feeling that she had been jerked out of her shell? "It was fine. How was yours?"
Aunt Maureen made a face. “A little disappointing. I had one student left for my Saturday painting classes and she called to cancel. I look forward to the weekend for that reason only. Oh well, someone will sign up soon, I’m sure.”
