Too Many Bosses

by Jan Freed

  Uncurling her legs, she mirrored his position. Nose to nose, they weren’t more than two feet apart.

  “Not a chance,” she said.

  “Look, Laura. I do not require, want or otherwise need a business partner to complicate my life. And let’s be honest, you are gaining the benefit of my financial backing and business connections in this deal. You’re obviously ambitious—hell, you went for my throat like a pit bull the other day. So what’s the problem?”

  He had her figured all wrong, but she wasn’t about to drag her family’s problems into this discussion.

  Alec shoved a hand through his hair. “We’ll have a hard enough time sticking out the full year without killing each other. Our only hope is to have a light at the end of the tunnel.”

  She shifted tactics. “Sam would be mad as hell. Mad enough to fire you, maybe.”

  “You leave Sam to me. I’m confident I’ll find someone to fill your shoes when you leave.”

  Her swift pang of hurt came out of nowhere. She looked down. Bevo smiled up from her slippers with disgusting cheerfulness. “Maybe I’ll buy you out,” she whispered.

  Gentle fingers cupped her chin and lifted, forcing her to meet Alec’s eyes. “With what? Face it, Laura, this is your best option. I promise you’ll get a fair settlement. Enough to capitalize your own full-service agency for a year at least.”

  Or pull H & H Cattle Company out of debt once and for all, Laura silently added.

  He released her chin and sat back. “Well? Is it a deal?”

  The decision had been made long ago—the morning she’d left home vowing to make it up to her father and brother one day. Pride forced her to bargain at least a little. “I’ll agree on one condition.”

  “Which is?”

  “That I be an equal partner, with equal responsibility and input, until the day we split up.”

  Obviously smelling victory, Alec nodded.

  “I’ll hold you to that. In writing,” she warned.

  “I’ll have the agreement drawn up by Tuesday.”

  She sighed. “Okay, then. I guess you have a deal.”

  Alec slapped his knee and smiled—the dazzling, dimpled, drop-dead gorgeous smile she’d waited for and envisioned ever since they’d met. Reality mocked her puny imagination.

  God, she hated him.

  * * *

  MONDAY MORNING, Laura drove her old car through towering wrought-iron gates and parked in Alec’s driveway. His two-story brick home looked even more imposing than she remembered. She unbuckled her seat belt and frowned.

  Normally her memory for details never failed. But when Alec was near, everything else seemed to fade into the background. Disturbed at the realization, she grabbed her organizational notes, clambered out of the car and traipsed up the walkway. A small portico sheltered the front door, bounded on one side by a graceful potted fern and on the other by an ornamental iron bench. She sat on the cool metal and clutched her leather portfolio tighter. Her stomach rumbled from no breakfast and a bad case of the jitters.

  Chicken. She had a perfect right to be here. If she turned wimpy now, she’d be wiping Alec’s footprints off her back the rest of the year. Straightening her shoulders, she rose, faced the tall mahogany door and lifted the gleaming brass knocker.

  The door swung open while her hand was still on the knocker, pulling her forward. She stumbled into a marble-floored entryway as a small human dynamo whizzed under her arm and out the door.

  “Jason McDonald, you come back here right now,” yelled a stern gravelly voice.

  Still holding the knocker, Laura glanced across the foyer. A large woman with close-cropped gray hair marched toward the open door, her arms pumping. As she passed through, one down-swinging elbow caught Laura in the ribs, whirling her face first into the knocker.

  “Ow-ow-ow!” Laura cupped her throbbing nose and turned to glare through a haze of involuntary tears.

  “Don’t make me come after you, Jason.” The woman faced the street and crossed her arms, a pose that emphasized her narrow hips, thick waist and broad shoulders. Only the passing glimpse of a massive bosom negated the possibility she was a man.

  Beyond the porch and midway down a bricked path to the curb, Jason paused and turned. He raised a thumb to each ear, wiggled his fingers and stuck out his tongue.

  My sentiments exactly, Laura thought. From the moment she’d talked to Jason up in that tree, she’d felt drawn to the child. His beautiful eyes, so like his father’s, except for a heart-wrenching hunger for attention, had aroused maternal instincts she hadn’t even known were hibernating.

  She frowned now as the marine-sergeant-in-drag uncrossed stocky arms and lowered a grizzled head. A glance at Jason’s colorless face confirmed Laura’s intense dislike of the woman.

  Footsteps sounded on the marble floor behind her. “Laura! How long have you been here?” Alec joined her in the doorway.

  His faded jeans were tight, his navy cable-knit sweater loose. Her stomach went bonkers, and not from lack of food.

  She dragged her gaze back to Jason. “Not long.”

  Laura knew the exact moment the boy spotted his father. As if released from a snare, he turned and scampered down the path, his cherry red backpack bouncing against his white T-shirt and tiny denim-clad bottom.

  Emitting an ugly grunt, the woman lurched forward.

  “Is there a problem here, Mrs. Pennington?” Alec asked loudly.

  She froze in midstep, turned around and sniffed. “Your boy stuck his tongue out at me again, Mr. McDonald. I’ve told you before he’s got no respect for his elders. Ran off without finishing his breakfast, too.” She clasped rawboned hands over a shapeless cotton shift and pursed her mouth. “He’ll be hungry by ten o’clock, mark my words.”

  Surely that wasn’t satisfaction glittering in the woman’s black eyes? Laura glanced up at Alec. The tender frustration on his lean face twisted her heart. Following his gaze, she located Jason sitting huddled on the front curb throwing pebbles into the street. He looked smaller than the canvas pack on his back.

  Alec refocused on Mrs. Pennington. “I’ll see that Jason gets on the school van safely this morning. You can return to your other duties now, thank you.” He stepped outside and pulled Laura with him.

  “Whatever you say, sir.” Mrs. Pennington nodded in deference.

  But there was nothing meek about the glaring look she gave Laura. The woman’s ebony eyes gleamed with hostility. Laura glowered right back.

  The minute Mrs. Pennington was out of earshot, Laura confronted Alec. “Why in the world did you hire that woman?”

  He seemed startled. “Mrs. Pennington? She’s an excellent housekeeper.”

  “Then she only takes care of the house? You have someone else who looks after Jason?”

  “No, I didn’t say that.” His expression grew wary. “She generally sees Jason off in the morning and watches him when he gets home from school about three o’clock.”

  “Good grief, Alec. That dragon lady has no business taking care of children—”

  The rumble of an engine interrupted Laura’s lecture. A bright yellow van with Tanglewood Academy on the door pulled up curbside. The passenger door slid open, revealing small faces watching Jason with varying degrees of interest. A carrot-haired little girl smiled and patted an empty seat next to her.

  Jason ducked his head, scrambled into the van and sat down. Reaching over to close the door, he looked at Alec as if to assure himself his father was still there. When his gaze shifted to Laura, his expression brightened with recognition. He waved once, a shy little movement that seemed uncertain of her reaction, then slid the door shut.

  Suddenly finding it difficult to swallow, Laura waved back. She continued waving until the van drove out of sight. Feeling Alec’s gaze, she dropped her arm. “That’s a great kid you have there.”

  “I wouldn’t know. He only shows me his worst side.”

  Laura swung around. Alec stood inches away, freshly shaved and sleepy-eyed
. The intimate combination made her pulse leap. She stepped back.

  “Before last week, I didn’t even know you had a little boy.”

  “He lived with his mother overseas until two months ago. He’s...having a rough time adjusting to me.”

  After an awkward silence, she babbled the first platitude that came to mind. “Sharing time between divorced parents is hard on a child.”

  “Losing a mother in a car accident is harder.”

  Her mouth formed a silent oh.

  He shrugged and stuffed both hands in his pockets. “Hey, don’t feel too badly. The doctors said Susan was so full of gin she didn’t feel a thing. And from what I can tell, Jason misses his nanny more than his mother’s loving arms.”

  If he was trying to shock her, he failed. She’d seen the yearning look he’d sent his son. Right now, though, her sympathy rested with a little boy uprooted from all that was familiar.

  “So whose loving arms hold him now? Certainly not the dragon lady’s.” She jerked her head to the door Mrs. Pennington had lumbered through moments earlier.

  His jaw tightened. “Not that it’s any of your business, but the last thing Jason wants is for me to hold him. He hates me.”

  Poor Jason. Poor Alec. Men didn’t have a clue. “Of course he wants to be held. We all want to be held. Even a cold heartless SOB like you,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. The man took himself much too seriously.

  Amazement relaxed his scowl. “You are the most impertinent woman I’ve ever met. No wonder Jason likes you. You two have so much in common.”

  “Jason said he likes me?” She beamed.

  His eyes thawed a bit more. “He didn’t know girls could climb trees that good. To tell the truth, neither did I.” He reached out and swiped a finger down her nose.

  She flinched.

  He leaned down and inspected her face. “You’re hurt.”

  She caught the heady scent of soap, after-shave and clean male skin. Raising her portfolio, she hugged it to her chest. “It’s nothing. I bumped my nose against the door knocker when Mrs. Pennington came out earlier.”

  Frowning, he gripped her shoulders and positioned her to face the morning sunlight.

  Her heart lurched.

  He raised one hand and cupped her chin, his index finger firm and slightly scratchy against the soft skin of her jaw, the pad of his thumb a gentle pressure beneath her lips.

  Her mouth automatically parted in response.

  He probed one side of her nose with gentle fingers. “Does this hurt?”

  “N-no.”

  “How about this?” Feather soft, he grazed the opposite side.

  Her stomach flip-flopped, making speech impossible. Wide-eyed, she shook her head, the action rubbing her sensitive lower lip against his thumb.

  His fingers tightened. “I—” he cleared his throat “—I guess nothing’s broken, then.”

  But he didn’t release her chin. Instead, his other hand traced a gentle lazy path down her cheek, stopping at her lips. The sun blinded Laura to his expression, but she felt his increased tension nonetheless.

  Her heart bludgeoned her rib cage as his head lowered, blocking the sun like an eclipse. His eyes, smoky blue and sleepier than ever, focused intently on her mouth.

  Her lashes drifted down. Her breathing stopped.

  His fingers fell away from her chin. “Come inside and I’ll put some ice on that nose,” he offered, his voice husky.

  Her eyes jerked open. He’d moved back several feet and now avoided her gaze. “F-fine. Lead the way.”

  He turned with evident relief and headed through the door.

  Idiot. Moron. Imbecile. Where was her brain? She had to work closely with this man for an entire year. His love-’em-and-leave-’em reputation had provided many an hour of gossip at the agency. Alec’s withdrawal had been a blessing. Humiliating, but a blessing.

  So why, then, did she feel like strangling someone?

  * * *

  HOW WOULD SHE GET through a year without strangling the man?

  Laura paced the reception area of Blackburn Realty Corporation and fumed. Alec was late—after she’d broken every speed limit to get here on time, too. Her old car doing seventy miles an hour was comparable to the shuttle reentering earth’s atmosphere. Only the shuttle probably shook less.

  She crossed the plush carpet to a long sofa, plopped down and fussed with her skirt. Three days had passed since that almost kiss at Alec’s doorway. Thank goodness it hadn’t happened.

  The first thing he’d done after leading her inside the house was stick a contract under her nose to sign. He must have dragged his lawyer off the tennis court on Sunday in order have the agreement ready and waiting Monday morning, instead of Tuesday as he’d promised.

  With a curious mixture of emotions, she’d signed away any possibility of long-term commitment to Hayes and McDonald Advertising. The thought of paying off H & H Cattle Company’s debts elated her. Yet so did the idea of developing an agency from the ground floor up.

  How ironic that in her bid for personal creative freedom, she’d wound up chained to the most domineering, autocratic, stubborn man on earth. All the more reason to demand his respect and attention—on a strictly business level, of course. She wasn’t a masochist.

  Leaning forward, she pulled a copy of Architectural Digest from a chrome-and-glass coffee table and flipped the pages blindly. She’d give him five more minutes. Then she would insist Mr. Donelly show her prospective office space without the benefit of Alec’s sage advice. They disagreed on almost everything, anyway.

  “Would you care for some coffee now, Ms. Hayes?” the bored young secretary asked for the third time.

  Laura smiled brightly and shook her head, then returned to the glossy pages as if engrossed. Mr. Donelly had his work cut out for him, poor man. She had argued with Alec for more than an hour about their future office site. He wanted to lease space somewhere inside Loop 610, believing central convenience and a prestigious location were worth the higher cost. Laura thought it absurd to pay top dollar for such intangibles. The quality of the agency’s work would establish a good image, not the address on its letterhead.

  She was much more concerned about employee reaction to the work environment, an issue her partner completely ignored.

  The etched-glass entry door opened, and Alec swept into the sterile reception area, along with the scent of spring breezes and sandlewood cologne. He looked dark and commanding in designer charcoal slacks and a mist gray silk shirt.

  The woman at the desk perked up like a poodle begging for table scraps. He tossed her a smile and strode toward Laura, oblivious to the receptionist’s flustered gratitude.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he told Laura without a trace of apology in his voice. Dropping into a peach damask guest chair, he leaned forward, his tall powerful body obscuring the chair’s delicate lines. “I was on the phone all morning with Harold Becker. The Harold Becker.”

  An underlying excitement darkened his eyes to near black. Women would have killed for his lashes, Laura thought resentfully.

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  She sighed. “I’m ignorant, not deaf, Alec. I’m afraid I don’t know who this Becker person is.”

  Surprise, then smugness, crept across his face. “He’s media director of the Spencer Group’s Houston division. The corporate office is closing the southwest division in a month, but Harold hates living in New York. I sold him on the mental rush of building an agency from scratch. He’ll be taking a slight pay cut, but he’s agreed to work for McDonald and Hayes Advertising.”

  “Hayes and McDonald,” Laura corrected automatically. “Let me get this straight. You hired a department head for our agency without consulting me?”

  Alec frowned. “I hired a Madison Avenue pro who will lend credibility to an unknown hick-town agency. If I hadn’t acted fast, he would have been snapped up by a competitor.”

  “Hick-town agency?” Her spine stiffened.

&nbs
p; “That’s not what I think, Laura. But like it or not, our industry still considers any agency outside New York strictly pedestrian. The more talent like Becker this city can attract and hold, the faster that prejudice will disappear.”

  His high-handed action made a distorted kind of sense, Laura admitted. But if he thought he could continue making decisions right and left...

  “Mr. McDonald, so nice to meet you. My secretary said you’d arrived.” A slender blond man not much older than Laura walked toward them, hand extended, his attention centered on Alec.

  Alec rose and shook hands. “Donelly,” he acknowledged with a curt nod. “I hope my requirements were not too limiting. I like to have several choices before making any decision.”

  Laura rose and faced the Realtor. “Mr. McDonald is big on having alternatives,” she said wryly, holding out her hand. “I’m Laura Hayes—Mr. McDonald’s business partner. He did mention that little detail, didn’t he?”

  Mr. Donelly flicked an uncertain glance at Alec before grasping her hand. “Of course. I’m sorry, Ms. Hayes, it must have slipped my mind. You’d have never been kept waiting, if I’d known you were so lovely.” His smile could have graced a toothpaste ad.

  “Our commission is lovely,” she conceded, grinning as he focused more closely on her face.

  “Please, call me David. And make no mistake, Laura. I know the difference between a commission and a lovely woman—” he squeezed her fingers gently “—as well as how to enjoy both to the fullest.”

  She pulled her hand away, hating the heat suffusing her face. It wasn’t like he really meant it. Why couldn’t she act cool and sophisticated? She peeked at Alec through her lashes.

  He was watching the agent with peculiar intensity, as if willing him to look back. When David obliged, the two men exchanged a long enigmatic stare. Fifteen seconds into it Alec visibly relaxed.

  David developed a tic in his left cheek.

  “Am I missing something here?” Laura asked, irritated when neither man responded. Her foot tapped the carpet. “Can we possibly go now?”