Lessons in Love

by Kathryn R. Blake

  He chuckled. "Adam and I are the only two general partners in Robite Capital, so it's only fair to inform him you and I started a program together. And, what better way is there than to demonstrate?

  "I don't know. You could have sent an email, written a note, or even called him instead. Who else knows about your unusual agendas?"

  "Probably most everyone on this floor has an inkling more is going on than appearances might suggest, but Adam and Krista are the only two with whom I shared my objectives. Does the thought of others knowing bother you?"

  "A little. Yes."

  He tilted her chin up. "Consider it similar to boot camp. Difficult in the beginning, but easier as you grow accustomed to the daily rigors expected of you."

  "Charming," she murmured with a smile.

  He tapped her nose. "All the same, I expect you to come to me if any problems develop. We're in this together, Pam. Understand?"

  "So you said. Perhaps you should put those words in a memo for me, so I can print them out as a reminder?"

  "Brat," he whispered against her lips before he kissed her.

  Pam clung to him. She didn't want to let him go but knew she must. For both their sakes. He'd come to mean so much to her in so few days that the intensity of her feelings was a little terrifying.

  She pressed her warm face to his shirt, not wanting him to see her tears, but trying not to get him wet, either.

  He rubbed her back. "It'll be okay, kitten. I promise."

  "You need to go," she murmured, rising from his lap. This time he didn't stop her, which felt odd and unsettling.

  "Yeah. I do. One more thing. Consider your cell phone an electronic leash. I want it on your person at all times. I'll try the office line first, but if I can't reach you at your desk, I'll call your cell next, and you'd best answer right away. If it goes to voicemail or someone else answers instead, you and I will talk. Understand?"

  She blinked, then regarded him with a scowl. "You don't intend to delegate these attitude sessions to anyone else while you're gone, do you?"

  He smiled. "No. Why, do you want me to appoint a delegate?"

  She promptly shook her head. "God, no. One of you is bad enough."

  Smiling, he checked his watch. "It's not quite eleven. Take a lunch break today. And that's an order, missy."

  "Yes, sir," she replied with a smile and a curtsy, scampering out of reach with a laugh when he made a playful lunge for her. "No. You need to leave. Remember?" she asked, standing near his door.

  "Unfortunately, yes, I do." He collected his briefcase, strode to the door, placed a kiss on the top of her head, and walked to the elevators.

  Though Pam was tempted to run to the window and watch him get in his car, she gave herself a stern talking to, picked up the files he left her, and returned to her desk.

  * * *

  Less than five minutes later, Krista was standing in Pam's cubicle. "Sorry about the mini meltdown. You okay?"

  Pam nodded. "When I started here on Monday, I really thought he didn't like me."

  "But he managed to change your mind pretty quickly, didn't he?"

  "The same day."

  "Well, Adam isn't taking the Hemley fiasco too well. He told me he’s going home."

  "Is it unusual for him to leave in the middle of the day?"

  "Him? Oh, yeah. He caught pneumonia last winter that was so bad Rob almost called the paramedics to take him to the hospital since he refused to go home and take care of himself."

  "What happened?"

  "He went home, grumbling every step of the way. I don't like seeing him like this. He's acting — strange."

  "How so?"

  "I’m not sure. Depressed, maybe. He's blaming himself."

  "That's not good, Krista."

  "I know. I tried to cheer him—"

  "No. I mean, that's not good. We need to stop him from leaving."

  "Why? What are you thinking?"

  "Unhappy people sometimes do things to themselves. I don't think he should be alone or allowed to drive home, if he's as bad as you say he is."

  Krista shook her head. "I don't think he's suicidal."

  "You want to take that risk? Trust me, I’m an expert on depression, and I can hide it along with the best of them. The results of such deceptions aren't pretty."

  "Okay. What do you think we should do?"

  Pam held up the Peacham file. "Rob wants me to do a Pro and Con work up on this company. He said Adam and you could help me. I think I should ask Adam for some guidance."

  "Sounds plausible. Let's go."

  "Mr. White?" Pam called, stepping into his office as he gathered up his things. He turned to face her.

  "It's Adam, Pam. I believe I already mentioned that." He said it with a smile, so Pam understood he wasn't upset with her slip.

  "Adam. I'm sorry to disturb you, but you said I could come to you with my questions regarding the Peacham file."

  He frowned. "Now? I was going—"

  She stepped back. "If it's inconvenient, I can return later. I only wanted to make sure Rob had everything he needed, and he did ask me to do this."

  He sighed and motioned her to his conference table. "Of course, take a seat. Want to join us, Krista?"

  "Sure," Krista agreed, sitting across from Pam and on the other side of Adam. He was flanked by the two of them.

  Pam opened the file, hoping against hope she could wing this. "Rob said you think they’re potentially a good investment, but he's concerned about their concentration, duration, and asset risk. Do you think these are positives in their case?"

  His eyebrows rose. "You're a quick study, Miss Weston. I'm impressed. Okay, let's deal with them one by one…."

  Though she jotted down his thoughts, Pam kept her gaze fixed on Adam White while he went through the reasons why he considered Peacham Technologies to have a broader appeal than their current market share, thought they would pay back a good return on investment in a timely manner, and their assets weren't as obsolete as the report indicated.

  He spoke in terms she could understand, without talking down to her, and warmed up to his subject matter as he went on.

  Pam asked a few more questions, which Adam answered after giving them proper consideration. He enjoyed his job, and he took his responsibilities seriously, but she didn't think he was depressed, merely disappointed.

  Her watch read a quarter to two when she concisely summarized his opinion based on his comments. As he listened to her summation, Adam White regarded Pam carefully. Then, he glanced over at Krista, who gave him an innocent smile.

  "Why do I get the impression neither of you truly needed me for this conversation?"

  Pam's eyes opened wide, but she was saved by the chime of her phone.

  When she reached for it, Adam held up his hand. "No. Let me get this one."

  She swallowed and shrugged as he answered her cell and put it on speaker. "Miss Weston's line, Adam White speaking."

  "Adam?" Rob's voice sounded confused and more than a little worried. "Is everything all right?"

  "Yes, I believe it is, though I think your girl just ran an intervention on me."

  "What?"

  "To tell you the truth, Rob, I've been going over the Hemley data in my mind, and it's bugging me. I don't think I was handling it as well as I should. I was ready to go home and get rip-roaring drunk when Pam came in with the Peacham Technologies file and began pumping me with questions in an effort to distract me."

  "She did?"

  "Yes, she did."

  "Did it work?"

  "Well, I'm here, and I'm sober, so yes. I'd say she was successful."

  "Is she still there?"

  "She is."

  "Do you want to talk with me alone about your thoughts on the Hemley deal?"

  "No. I don't think that's necessary. I have to say, Rob, Miss Weston is quick on the uptake. Extremely quick."

  "Yes, she's exceptionally bright and intelligent. I agree."

  "I hear a 'but' in your
statement, sir," Pam interceded.

  "That's because you hear things that aren't there, kitten."

  Pam grinned, then he added, "I would like to speak with Pam alone, if I'm not pulling her away at a bad time."

  She glanced back at Adam.

  "You did your duty perfectly, Pam. Go ahead and talk to your boss."

  Picking up her cell, she took it off speaker and walked down the hall to her desk. "Okay. It's just me."

  "I'm proud of you, Pam. You saw a problem and took the necessary steps to fix it. Adam is an alcoholic, so having him admit he was thinking of drinking again meant he was on the brink of lapsing. You did a brave and selfless thing to help him. Thank you."

  She smiled. "Krista told me he wasn't doing well, and I recognized the signs."

  "Good girl. Did you estimate your calorie intake for the day?"

  "Rob, are these calculations really necessary?"

  "Yes. So, you'd best get to recording before I call this evening, or you'll be getting a lecture you won't like."

  "It's busy work."

  "Not at all. It's reinforcing your need to eat. If you’re required to count calories and meet a goal or pay a consequence, then perhaps you'll stop skipping meals. Did you stop for lunch?"

  "No, sir. I was occupied grilling Adam instead."

  "What do you think would happen if I was there with you?"

  "I wouldn't have had to talk to Adam, and I could have gone down to get something."

  "Brat. That wasn't what I meant, and you knew it. What do you think I'd do or say if I was there and you told me you skipped a meal?"

  A disembodied voice announced, "United Flight 345 is ready to board. Please have your tickets ready."

  "That's my flight. I need to go. But the answer to my question is you would be having trouble sitting down about right now, if I was there. So, do your best to make up for it at dinner. All right?"

  "Yes, sir," she answered softly.

  "Good. Gotta go. I'll call you later."

  Putting her cell phone back on her belt, Pam returned to Adam's office to retrieve her file.

  "Everything okay?" he asked.

  She shrugged. "Yes, I guess so. I was just reminded skipping lunch is a ‘no-no.’" She rolled her eyes then laughed. "And rolling my eyes is not permitted either."

  Adam chuckled. "So you tend to forget to eat, eh? Today it was my fault. How about I treat you and Krista to Lenny's Deli? They deliver."

  Krista nodded enthusiastically, so they gave Adam their orders and he called it in.

  Pam wandered back to her cubicle and decided to go into Rob's office. She felt closer to him there. The scent of his cologne still hung about the room as if he'd only stepped out for a moment. Being curious, okay, nosy, she checked out his desk and credenza, though refrained from snooping in any drawers or cabinets until she went into his bathroom. She hadn't realized he had a shower in there, too.

  Opening the cabinet doors beneath and over the sink, she found fresh towels, extra toothbrushes still in their wrapper, toothpaste, mouthwash, aspirin, and other over-the-counter drugs, razors, shaving cream. He kept his own little convenience market right next to his office.

  Then she took her nosiness to a new level as she began opening drawers and looking into cabinets. Whoa! A person could live here by simply ordering out occasionally and vegging on the couch. He even had a built-in flat screen TV on the wall behind his desk, which could be viewed from almost any angle in the room. Add a bucket of popcorn, and she would be in seventh heaven.

  "Lunch is here," Krista called.

  Pam came out of Rob's office with a smile.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. I had no idea Mr. Peterson keeps a man cave."

  "Discovered the TV, did you?"

  "And the bar, mini-microwave, and the small fridge loaded with soft drinks and ice."

  "He occasionally entertains clients in there."

  "Yeah, and you guys bought that?"

  With a laugh, Krista leaned forward and whispered, "Wanna eat our lunch and watch afternoon TV in the man cave?"

  Pam returned a wicked smile. "You betcha."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  As Pam nibbled on her sandwich and watched the acerbic woman judge lay into a guy who claimed the money his girlfriend loaned him was for 'services rendered,' she murmured, "How many calories do you think are in one of these subs?"

  "Why? Did Rob ask you to keep track?"

  Pam grimaced. "Among other things."

  Krista laughed. "Put down about a thousand calories for one of those. It's loaded with carbs."

  "Well, that'll help. Did Rob insist any of his other 'girls' keep journals?"

  Krista turned to regard Pam carefully. "I can tell you everything I know about the swinging door to our boss's office, but I don't want to upset you."

  "Why would it upset me?"

  "I've worked here for five years, and in that time, you are his eighth administrative assistant, while I've been with Mr. White four and a half of those five years. I temped for some of the other partners before Adam hired me. Does that tell you anything?"

  "My boss is difficult to please?"

  Krista snorted. "Well, yeah. He is that. But, to me, doing the secretary shuffle is the behavior of a guy with commitment issues."

  "I'm finding your description hard to reconcile with the man I've gotten to know over the last few days."

  "Well, I bet all the other 'girls' said the same thing."

  "So, you think he's merely playing a game?"

  "No, it's more than that. I think he needs to dominate, but he doesn't want to commit. So, when a woman grows a little too close, he starts to pull away."

  Pam shook her head. "That's not how he treats me. I'm the one pulling away, not him. If anything, he has difficulty respecting my personal boundaries."

  "Exactly. As long as you're pushing back, he's pulling you in. What happens when you stop pushing?"

  "He relaxes, but he doesn't release me."

  "Interesting. I guess it's hard for me to be objective since I learned about this dominance thing he's got going on. In the beginning, I had no idea, and he didn't let on there was anything unusual in any of his relationships. The only one, outside of you, he seemed overly affectionate with was Stephanie. I did catch her crying a few times, but most of the time she was laughing and happy."

  "How long did she stay?"

  "The longest of anyone, so far. Eighteen months."

  "Do you know what happened?"

  Krista shook her head. "She gave two weeks' notice, and Peterson accepted it, though he didn't appear pleased. I was aware she had a crush on him, so could be she realized the relationship wasn't going to go anywhere, and her feelings were too strong to remain on a strictly professional basis with him. We weren't close. Though she was nice, she was also a little standoffish, like she didn't want me to forget I was an underling and get too chummy with her."

  "What do you mean?"

  "As Mr. Peterson's admin, she'd ask me to do things, which, normally, I wouldn't mind, but she asked in a way that made me think she assumed my job was to be her gopher, since she was too important to run down to the copier or ruin her manicure with filing. Perhaps she didn't mean to come across that way, but she never would have let me sit in this office next to her. That simply wasn't my place."

  "You're kidding."

  "Nope."

  "What were some of the other women like?"

  "Sure you want to hear this? It may sound a little like musical chairs?"

  Pam met Krista's gaze. "What I really want to hear is what went wrong. Why all the changes?"

  Krista shrugged. "I already told you what I thought, but he's the only one who knows for sure. I was just told to help train whoever showed up in the chair next."

  "Hmm. He's said no topic is forbidden, and I could ask any question I want. Maybe I should ask him why he's had so many assistants."

  "Sure. Why not? He certainly greeted your questions about Caroline wit
h open honesty, didn't he?"

  Pam snorted. "Uhm, no."

  "Look, it's clear you guys have something special going on, and I don't want to do anything to come between you, even if I do think you're crazy for even considering entering into an agreement with our handsome, mega-maniacal boss. You're good for him. No one else would dare order food and demand he eat, but I'm not sure he would take the time to eat for anyone else but you, either."

  Pam's skin tingled with the pleasure Krista's observation gave her. "He said it's a two-way street. If he's going to insist I consume a more balanced, healthy diet, then he needs to do the same. It's only fair."

  "I agree. But I wouldn't dare tell him that to his face, while you would."

  Pam smiled. "You betcha."

  When they finished eating, Pam and Krista returned to their desks. Pam opened her journal and jotted down the calories listed for the food she'd consumed. At this point, she was at about 1060 calories. Not good given the day was two-thirds over. She glanced at the clock. Four thirty. The thought of going home and eating alone tonight didn't appeal to her for some reason. She wanted, no needed to feel closer to Rob, and, even though they'd shared dinner in her apartment, she didn't feel close to him there. Preferring not to give it too much thought, she called Paul's cell phone. He answered on the first ring.

  "Miss Weston, may I do something for you?"

  "Actually, Paul, I was just calling to say you don't need to pick me up tonight. I've made other arrangements."

  The line was silent for a moment, then Paul said, "Are you certain, miss? I mean Mr. Peterson was quite explicit in his—"

  "I'm sure, Paul. Thank you so much for being concerned, but I'm fine."

  "As you wish. Should I collect you at your apartment tomorrow at eight, then?"

  "No. That won't be necessary, either. Perhaps I'll see you tomorrow evening. I need to go. I simply didn't want you to worry about me."

  "Thank you, miss. That's most thoughtful of you. Good night."

  "Good night, Paul."

  Pam sighed, wondering just how short a leash Mr. Peterson kept. She had her answer less than five minutes later when the Robite phone rang. She didn't recognize the number.

  "Robite Capital, Mr. Peterson's office. How may I help you?"

  "You may start by telling me about these arrangements you made for this evening, Miss Weston."