by Linda Turner
“But what about your aunt? Won’t she be back soon? Surely she wants to be involved in the remodeling.”
“She had hoped to be,” he replied, “but there’s a good chance that she won’t be back until after the first of the year.” He told her about Glen’s accident and his extensive injuries. “Luckily, there was no brain damage, but the doctors expect him to be laid up for quite a while. They have a two-month-old baby girl, and there’s no way Emily can handle her and Glen without some help. Alice will stay as long as she’s needed, but she’s as anxious as I am to start the remodeling. So if you’re asking if the job is a temporary one, the answer is yes. But it’s not something that’s going to end today or tomorrow. You can count on being here at least until Christmas, possibly longer.”
Christmas. To someone else, being guaranteed work just until the holidays might not have sounded like much. But from the moment Ned had told her she was out of a job, the one thing Phoebe had not allowed herself to think about was Christmas. How could she even think about buying Christmas gifts for the kids if she didn’t have a job?
“You’d have to live here at the Social Club,” he continued, “but that would be one of the requirements of the job, so there would, of course, be no rent.”
“But I thought all the apartments were rented,” she said, frowning in confusion. “The Johnsons—”
“Will still move in next week,” he assured her. “I was talking about Alice’s apartment. You and the kids can bunk down at her place while she’s gone.”
“But where will you stay?”
“With the three of you in the apartment,” he retorted bluntly. “It’ll be cramped, but it’s only a temporary measure, and I’ll be out of town a lot—which is why I need you to live here at the Social Club. You can handle whatever comes up while I’m gone.”
Stunned, Phoebe could only stare at him. He was serious. He actually expected her to move in with him—a man she’d known for all of twenty-four hours—just because he’d offered her a so-called job! Did he think she was that destitute, that desperate, that she would do anything for money?
Straightening away from the doorjamb, she said with a dangerous silkiness, “Let me get this straight. You’re offering me a job, but I have to live with you. And just what exactly would you be paying me for? The duties you already described or something a little more, shall we say... intimate?”
It was, she thought furiously, a legitimate question, but suddenly he was the one who looked like he’d been insulted. His blue eyes steely, he said coldly, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. But just for your information, I don’t have to stoop to taking advantage of a woman who’s down on her luck to get sex. All I have to do is pick up the phone.”
It was no brag, just fact. There were any number of women in his life, and he was cynical enough to know that it had nothing to do with his looks. It was a sorry fact of life that he could have been as ugly as homemade soap and still had just about any woman he wanted because of the balance of his checkbook.
His jaw rigid, he gave her a hard look. “So are you interested in the job or not? I’ve given you the terms. Take it or leave it. At this point, it makes no difference to me.”
It was well known in business that he who cared the least won. As she hesitated, Mitch tried to convince himself that he really didn’t care if she turned him down flat. She wasn’t the only decent secretary in the city. If he had to, he’d hound every employment agency in town until somebody found him an acceptable temp to take over for Alice.
But instead of rejecting him outright and slamming the door in his face as he expected, she observed him consideringly. “If I were interested—and I’m not saying I am,” she said quickly, “it would only be under certain conditions.”
Even as the words popped out of her mouth, Phoebe wondered what in the world she was doing. Successful, cynical men like Mitch Ryan were a law unto themselves. Strong, type A personalities, they believed in the bottom line and were convinced that most people would screw you if you gave them the chance. They guarded their business every bit as aggressively as they did their hearts, and that could make for impossible working conditions.
Especially considering her own personality. In most cases, she was easygoing; she didn’t like to draw lines in the sand. Mitch, on the other hand, was a man who was extremely sure of himself. If push came to shove, her personality would be the one that would be run over.
Still, he was offering her a job and a place for her and the kids to stay, rent-free. That wasn’t something she could dismiss lightly. Her grandmother had always told her that sometimes the worst things that happened to you turned out to be the best, and there was a distinct possibility that this was one of those times. If fate had led her to the Lone Star Social Club, she’d be a fool to pass up this possibility.
“I’m not an unreasonable man,” he told her. “Name your terms and I’ll tell you if I can live with them.”
Praying she wasn’t making a mistake, she straightened her shoulders. “Since the children and I will be sharing a room, we’ll take the biggest bedroom.”
He nodded. “I agree. I’d already thought of that. Anything else?”
“Yes. Since we’ll all be sharing the kitchen and living room, you can’t go around like you have the place to yourself. You’ll have to be fully dressed whenever you’re not in your bedroom.”
Considering the fact that they were strangers and she had children to protect, she thought her request was a logical one, but he seemed to find it vastly amusing. His eyes glinting with wicked laughter, he said with a straight face, “Once I finish work for the day, I usually strip first thing, but I guess I can be convinced to keep my clothes on. I wouldn’t want to shock the kids or anything.”
Another time, she would have laughed. But all too easily, she could see him undressing at the end of a long day, and the image startled her. Color flying in her cheeks, she said shortly, “See that you don’t. And it isn’t as if we’re going to be imposing on you forever. As soon as the remodeling of the attic is completed, the kids and I can move in there.”
“I don’t have a problem with that.”
“Good. Then you shouldn’t have any objection to us living there rent-free for the next six months if I can get the work completed ahead of schedule. It will get us out of your hair and compensate me for the extra hours I’ll have to put in in order to get things finished ahead of time. Until then, of course, my things will have to be put in storage. You can pick up the bill as part of my salary.”
Unable to believe her own daring, Phoebe braced for rejection. She knew it was an outrageous request, but it never hurt to ask. All he could do was say no. And in the silence that stretched between them, she was sure he was going to do just that.
But instead of an outright refusal, he said, “I was prepared for the project to take three months. If you can get it finished by Christmas, the apartment’s yours until the first of June.”
“Rent-free,” she stressed.
His lips twitching, he nodded. “Rent-free, Ms. Smith. Is that all?”
A wise woman would have stopped while she was ahead. After all, he’d already agreed to more than she’d dared hope for. She had a job, a place for her and the kids to stay at least through the holidays, possibly until next summer. She should have been satisfied, but a cloud of butterflies stirred in her stomach just at the thought of sharing an apartment with him. Such an arrangement could, she knew, turn out to be a disaster if they didn’t work everything out beforehand so there would be no misunderstandings. But Lord, it was hard! How did a woman look a man in the eye and tell him not to get any ideas about her when he hadn’t shown the least bit of interest in her as a female?
Heat climbing in her cheeks, she blurted out, “Just for the record, I’m not agreeing to any hanky-panky.”
Any hope that he would let that pass with just a nod of agreement died a swift death. His expression as solemn as a judge’s, he lifted an eyebrow over a twinkling eye
. “Hanky-panky, hmm? Would you care to define that?”
She wouldn’t, she told herself as she suppressed a smile. But he didn’t make it easy for her. He was daring her to enjoy the outrageousness of the discussion, and it was all she could do to keep a chastising frown firmly in place. “I wouldn’t have thought I’d have to spell it out to a man of your vast experience,” she replied smoothly. “You just keep your hands to yourself and we’ll get along fine.”
“I’ll try to restrain myself,” he assured her dryly. “So do we have an agreement?”
“Not quite yet.” On a roll, she held up her hand and started counting additional conditions off on her fingers. “Don’t be dragging in at all hours of the night—the kids and I will try not to disturb you and it’s only fair that you do the same. I won’t pick up after you or wash your clothes. I don’t mind doing the cooking, but in return I expect you to do the dishes when you’re home for meals. We’ll split the rest of the housework.”
When she marked off her last finger, she looked him dead in the eye. She’d never been more serious. “If you have a problem with any of this, you’d better speak up now. Because once we move in, all conditions are carved in stone.”
Impressed and amused, Mitch couldn’t help but admire the lady’s spunk. She didn’t have two nickels to rub together and would have been homeless if it hadn’t been for him, but did she let that stop her from laying down the law? Hell, no!
Without a moment’s hesitation, he held out his hand. “Then we have a deal. Shall we shake on it?”
She didn’t want to—he could see the doubts in her eyes and in the way she stared at his outstretched hand as if it was some kind of trap about to snap shut around her fingers. But one thing she wasn’t, he was discovering, was a coward. Squaring her shoulders, she placed her hand in his.
The moment their hands touched, something seemed to spark between them like static electricity. Something that made his heart jump and his stomach clench and his fingers instinctively tighten around hers. Taken aback, he frowned down at their joined hands and tried to convince himself he’d imagined the whole thing. But he wasn’t imagining the sudden hammering of his pulse or her soft, nearly silent gasp as she slowly, carefully, pulled free of his touch. Her eyes wide and wary, she glanced up at him, and even a blind man could have seen she was thinking the same thing he was. What had they gotten themselves into?
Over the course of the next week, Phoebe lost track of the number of times she woke up during the middle of the night wondering what had ever possessed her to agree not only to work for Mitch, but to live with the man once the Johnsons showed up to claim their apartment. It was never going to work. How could it? They were strangers, from two different worlds. And the apartment, while more than adequate for his aunt, was very, very small for four people, even if two of them were children. Within minutes of moving in, they’d probably all be at each other’s throats.
Dreading it, she readily admitted she was more than a little nervous about the move. Thankfully, she had the cleaning of 2C to distract her. Over the next few days, as she scoured the place from top to bottom and tried not to think about what would happen when she finished, time ran out and the Johnsons were scheduled to arrive the following morning.
Still, she put the move off all day. Last-minute items had to be taken to the public storage Mitch had arranged for her, the U-Haul trailer had to be returned and she had to vacuum the apartment one last time before she left it for good for the Johnsons. By the time she picked up the kids from school and treated them to an after-school snack at McDonald’s, she could no longer postpone the inevitable. When they arrived back at the Social Club, all she and the kids had to do was carry their personal items into Alice’s apartment.
Her heart pounding, she told herself that her nervousness had nothing to do with Mitch. She would have been apprehensive about moving in with any man she barely knew. But when she unlocked the front door of Alice’s apartment with the spare key Mitch had given her, she couldn’t forget the way his fingers had felt closing around hers when they’d shaken hands after she’d agreed to work for him. For hours later, she hadn’t been able to forget the warmth of his touch.
Since then, she’d come to the conclusion that she’d imagined the sparks that had seemed to jump from his hand to hers. That didn’t, however, stop her knees from trembling as she stepped into the apartment. Unconsciously, she braced for that first moment when she would come face-to-face with him. Silence, however, was her only greeting.
“It’s awfully quiet, Aunt Phoebe,” Robby whispered loudly as he peeked around her into the apartment. “Is Mr. Ryan here? Maybe we should come back later. He might get mad if we come in while he’s not here.”
“It’s okay, honey,” she assured him. “Mr. Ryan gave me a key, remember? He’s in and out a lot with business meetings and stuff, so we’ll just make ourselves at home. Our bedroom is the one at the back, off the kitchen. Let’s check it out. And remember,” she called after him and Becky as they darted off toward the rear of the apartment, “we don’t touch anything that doesn’t belong to us. We’re guests and it’s important that we respect other people’s property. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. Don’t touch. We’ll remember.”
“Wow! Look! Bunk beds!”
“I get the top!”
“That’s no fair. I’m the oldest. Aunt Phoebe!”
Hardly hearing their squabbling, Phoebe hurried after them, frowning. “What bunk beds? Mrs. Truelove has bunk beds in her guest room?”
“Yeah, and they’re red!” Becky said excitedly. “Look, Aunt Phoebe, I can stand on the top one and not even touch the ceiling! Isn’t that cool?”
For an answer, Phoebe quickly swept her down off the top bed and set her back down on the floor. “Keep that up, Miss Priss, and you’ll be sleeping on a sleeping bag on the floor. At least you can’t fall off that.”
Turning back to the red metal beds, Phoebe took one look at them and knew they were new. And only one person could have bought them. Mitch. But why? Alice’s bed was queen size, and the kids didn’t take up that much room. She’d been more than prepared to sleep with them for the short while they would be in this apartment. After all, if she could finish the remodeling of the attic early, it wouldn’t even be two months.
Robby, never one to miss an opportunity to pull rank on his sister, said hopefully, “Does that mean I get to sleep on the top bunk, Aunt Phoebe? Please? I won’t stand up on it. I promise. Only little kids do that kind of goofy stuff.”
Grinning, Phoebe ruffled his hair. “Nice try, cowboy, but I know a line when I hear one. If I let you sleep up there, you’d be swinging from the chandelier the second I turned my back on you, and you know it.”
His dimples flashing impishly, he didn’t deny it.
“Anyway, maybe I want to sleep up there,” she told the two kids. “Have you thought about that? Huh?”
They giggled, and just that easily, they were distracted, their argument, for the moment, forgotten. They explored the apartment, respectfully kept their hands behind their backs whenever they spied a particularly enticing treasure of Alice’s that they wanted to explore, then reluctantly settled down to do their homework while Phoebe started supper. By the time the three of them sat down at the kitchen table to eat, Mitch still hadn’t put in an appearance.
Two and a half hours later, the kids had taken their baths and, after much discussion, had decided that they would trade off sleeping in the top bunk every other night. A flip of a coin decided that it was Becky’s lucky night. After much grumbling from Robby, they finally both went to sleep.
Silence fell softly, gradually, like snow in the forest, as the grandfather clock in the foyer quietly counted off the hours. Usually this was the most treasured time of the day for Phoebe, when her chores for the evening were done and she could turn her attention to her book. But even as she set up her old electric typewriter on the kitchen table, she didn’t think there was much point. Not tonight. Her
surroundings were too unfamiliar, the apartment too quiet. And, try as she might, she kept watching the clock and waiting for Mitch. Where the devil was he?
Irritated by the thought, she said sternly, “That’s none of your business. You’re not the man’s keeper. If you want to worry about something, worry about your heroine in this chapter. She’s in a hell of a mess.”
She shouldn’t have been able to concentrate. She was prepared to stare at the half-finished page she’d left in her typewriter and see nothing but Mitch Ryan’s face. But the words reached out and grabbed her, and with gratifying swiftness, her fingers were soon flying over the keys. Lost in the story an hour later, she never heard Mitch’s key in the lock.
Chapter 5
It wasn’t often that Mitch put one over on Applebee. The old man was too sharp, too slick. He’d been wheeling and dealing before Mitch had been born, and he didn’t let anyone beat him at his own game without putting up a fight. When Mitch heard he was angling to buy three struggling radio stations in south Texas, he checked into the situation, discovered the old man was on to a damn good buy, and put in a bid of his own. Less than an hour ago, he’d met with the owner at a hotel on the River Walk and learned that not only had he gotten the bid, but he’d cut Applebee out of the running by a mere five thousand dollars.
That more than made up for the grocery chain the old man had stolen out from under his nose last month, Mitch thought with a grin as he let himself into Alice’s apartment. Five grand was pocket change to Applebee—he’d kick himself for not upping the ante when he had the chance. God, what he wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall when the old goat got the news!
Grinning, he felt like celebrating, and if he remembered correctly, Alice kept a bottle of wine in the pantry for special occasions. This more than qualified. Whistling softly to himself, he headed for the kitchen.
It wasn’t until he spied Phoebe sitting at the scarred old oak table, frowning at a typewriter that looked like it was straight out of the Stone Age, that he remembered she and her rug rats had been scheduled to move in that day. In the mad rush to outmaneuver Applebee he’d completely forgotten.