Too Many Bosses

by Jan Freed

The Realtor snapped out of his daze and smoothed his tie. “Certainly, Lau—er, Ms. Hayes. I’ve got five locations that would be perfect for your needs. My car is right outside. Ready, Mr. McDonald?”

  “The sooner the better,” Alec said.

  Laura smiled happily and headed for the door. At last, something she and Alec agreed on. Surely that was a good sign.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SILENCE REIGNED inside the parked car. Slumped behind the wheel, David bore little resemblance to the young man of collegiate good looks who’d flirted with her earlier, Laura observed.

  His honey blond hair, fashionably tousled that morning, now tufted in unfashionable furrows where his fingers had plowed. The tic in his cheek had increased. He’d discarded his navy wool blazer long ago, since the Ford’s air conditioner needed a shot of freon.

  His Lincoln was in the shop, he’d explained, and this had been the last available loaner car. Laura carefully avoided looking toward the back seat. She heard movement, then felt a bump through the cushion against her spine.

  “There’s one place you haven’t shown us, Donelly,” Alec said, his tone surly. “You mentioned it to me over the phone, but I told you the location was unsuitable. Maybe I was a little premature.”

  The Realtor’s gaze flew to the rearview mirror. “Which property was that?”

  “I believe you said it was on Westheimer, just off the West Belt? An architectural firm had just moved out, and there were some rather odd features to contend with.”

  Comprehension and hope burgeoned on David’s face. “Why yes, I’d almost forgotten.” He started the engine and nosed the car out into the traffic, his jaw set with grim purpose.

  Laura glanced from his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel to Alec’s pained expression, and decided to save her questions for later.

  It wasn’t her fault all five locations had been wrong. If Alec hadn’t ignored every single one of her previous recommendations regarding a site, this wouldn’t have been such a wild-goose chase. Lord knew where they were heading now.

  David pointed out the thirty-story building from a half mile away. Its rose-tinted windows blushed against the azure sky. At the entrance, unpolished pink granite steps led up to an impressive welcoming arch.

  As the Realtor parked in a visitor space, Laura glanced toward Alec again. He’d insisted on sitting in the back seat, despite her protests. “This is a gorgeous building, and so close to the Beltway we’d have access to all the freeways. I have a good feeling about this one.”

  Alec grunted from his jackknifed position.

  Suppressing a smile, Laura hopped out of the car, turned and pushed her seat forward. Alec uncurled like a hermit crab from an outgrown shell. Hunched and groaning, he grabbed his lower back and straightened. “To hell with chivalry. I’m riding in front on the way back.”

  David faced the building, a militant gleam in his eyes, then smoothed his hair, tugged his sleeves and squared his shoulders. “Let’s do it,” he said, marching ahead without waiting to see if his clients followed.

  Laura and Alec exchanged a startled glance, then hurried after him into the building.

  The property manager appeared thrilled to see them, even though they were unannounced. She regaled them with a host of leasing benefits—none of which involved the actual space being shown—all the way up the elevator and down the hall.

  Stopping at suite 1700, she inserted a key in the door and paused. “This is the last space available in the building. The previous tenants were a little...avant-garde in their tastes. However, our staff architects have been briefed on the situation and are prepared to give the new tenants top priority.” She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

  Alec, Laura and David filed into a large square room. No one spoke for a moment.

  The first thing Laura noticed was the huge round hole in one wall. Well, not a hole, actually—the floor intersected the bottom—but it was round enough to be unlike any doorway she’d seen outside a Tom-and-Jerry cartoon. Tiptoeing forward, she passed through and peered back into the room. Alec was turning as if to leave.

  “Wait,” she called. “I want to see the rest.”

  Disgust, gratitude and surprise showed respectively on the faces of Alec, David and the manager. Laura flashed a smile at all three of them before spinning around to continue her journey.

  The floor in the hallway, as well as in the front room, was covered with large matte black tiles. Round doorway openings beckoned her from both sides of the hall. She hurried forward and stepped through the first one to her right.

  The tiles in this room were fire-engine red. She grinned in delight, scanning the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of one entire wall and reveling in the abundance of natural light. The room was huge and absolutely perfect for an art department.

  She whirled around and nearly bumped into Alec as he walked through the door. He was still staring at the tile, mesmerized, when she brushed past him and entered the hallway, eager to complete her tour.

  With each passing moment, Laura grew more and more excited. In addition to what she now thought of as the art room, there were ten modest-size offices, a small kitchen, two large storage closets and a bathroom. The tile floor of each room glowed in a different crayon color. She loved them all.

  But the most exciting discovery in Laura’s opinion crowned the end of the hall. She entered the vast circular room and stood at its center, awed by the tiled replica of a sun radiating beneath her feet. Rotating slowly, she imagined sitting beside Alec at a round conference table, neither greater nor lesser than her partner in the eyes of clients. Just...equal.

  Determined to speak her mind, Laura walked back down the hall and into the entry room, where David and the property manager were pitching Alec fast and furious.

  “It’s a good compromise between your requirements and those of Ms. Hayes,” David said, throwing his colleague a pleading look.

  She picked up the cue. “We could have estimates on new carpet and conventional door frames in three days, a week tops.”

  Alec gave her a hard look. “That would knock up the square-footage price to inner-Loop rates. It’s obvious why this space is empty. Your company will have to bite the bullet and absorb reconstruction costs if you ever want to lease it.”

  The property manager looked eager. “So let’s talk.”

  Alec snorted. “Even if I wanted this...this—” he flung a hand at the round doorway “—this giant Swiss cheese you call an office, the reconstruction would take you at least a month. We can’t wait that long.”

  Laura stepped forward. “May I speak with you, Alec?”

  He turned, still glowering.

  “Privately?” she added.

  “We’ll be in the hall if you need us,” David said, looking relieved. He opened suite 1700’s only door and slipped through, the property manager close on his heels.

  When the door clicked shut, Laura gazed directly into Alec’s eyes, letting her own excitement show. “I think we should lease this space, Alec. It’s perfect.”

  He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you hear what I told them?”

  Yes, Spock, I heard. “Very logical,” she agreed with a grin.

  “I don’t know what’s so funny. You’ve rejected every decent space we’ve looked at because of minor flaws. Yet now you’re considering a place that would require extensive reconstruction. We can’t afford to wait that long, Laura.”

  “Who said anything about reconstruction?”

  When her meaning sank in, he shook his head. “No way. Our agency is not going to look like a day-care center. It would be bad for the image.” He dropped his arms and headed for the door.

  Laura stepped into his path and placed a palm on his chest. “No, it wouldn’t. It would be great for the image. We’re not a bank, Alec. We sell ideas...and imagination...and vision. Our agency headquarters should reflect that.”

  She searched his face for a sign of weakening. She wanted this space
, but convincing Alec wouldn’t be easy.

  “When you give a presentation,” she continued, “what gets the client excited? Facts and figures and research? Or razzle-dazzle, off-the-wall, how-did-they-think-of-that creative?”

  As understanding filled his eyes, she clutched his shirt. “That property manager is desperate, Alec. No one will take the space as is, and reconstruction costs would jack the rent too high for the market. Just think of the deal she’d cut you for taking this space off her hands.”

  Laura paused, waiting for his business instincts to kick in. The minute his expression grew speculative, she pounced. “Give me a budget, a time frame and a little of your faith, Alec, and I’ll give you an office to be proud of.”

  He reached up, covered her hand and pressed it against his chest. “You’d be putting heart and soul into a place you’ll have to leave in a year. Are you sure you want to do that?” He squeezed her fingers gently. “Think hard, Laura, before you answer.”

  His palm felt warm, his heartbeat strong and steady. You’re playing with fire, Laura. Just stick to business, take your money and run.

  “It’s just a job, Alec. I promise I won’t get sentimental.”

  His expression cleared. “I must be crazy for agreeing to this, but okay, Laura. Give it your best shot.” A predatory gleam appeared in his eyes. “I feel like doing a little negotiating. How about you?”

  Laura stepped aside and opened the door, elation and fear sweeping through her as she waved him into the hall. Hand on the doorknob, she paused. Maybe a little private negotiating was in order for herself.

  Please, Lord, if you help me keep my promise, I’ll...I’ll... What would be harder than resisting her partner’s appeal? I’ll never lose my temper with Alec again.

  * * *

  ALEC UNLOCKED the door, opened it just enough to slip his arm through and flipped on a light switch. Only then did he push his way into the room. After two weeks, the early-morning ritual still gave him a charge.

  Ten track lights beamed with concentrated focus on a rectangular section of wall featuring the words Hayes and McDonald Advertising. The letters had been custom-cut from the same black tile as the floor, their matte finish contrasting against a background of gleaming red tiles.

  Laura had given herself top billing, but he could hardly complain. She’d bartered her creative services to a tile craftsman in need of a brochure. Otherwise the sign would have cost a fortune. And it certainly made an impressive statement.

  He set his briefcase on the floor and circled the room, turning on overhead lights and a squat black table lamp drizzled in red glaze. His approving gaze swept the grouping of gray leather furniture. He particularly liked the contemporary area rug bordered in red. Laura had picked it up for a fraction of its original cost at a designer showroom auction.

  A cluttered spray of magazines on the coffee table caught his eye. Frowning, he sat on the couch and began arranging the periodicals in a neat row.

  True to her word, Laura had performed miracles within a very modest budget. Susan had spent twice that amount furnishing his study years ago, and that hadn’t even included the fees of an interior designer. Not that he’d minded. He realized now his ex-wife had symbolized his personal triumph over poverty. No doubt he would have indulged her all the way to bankruptcy court, if she’d valued her wedding vows half as much as his money.

  Alec pulled a roll of antacids out of his pocket and popped one in his mouth. He had everything, including himself, under control. He really did—despite having an impulsive partner and a rebellious child to deal with. Years of practice had made restraint second nature to him.

  Rising, he crossed over to the sleek black reception desk and plucked several messages from his slot. With characteristic irreverence, Brenda Lee had noted that a “very rude stockbroker” wanted him to return an “earthshakingly important” call. Alec rolled his eyes and stuffed the pink slip into his pocket.

  It wasn’t enough that Laura had saved Brenda Lee’s ass. No, his partner had gone and hired the former cocktail waitress as office manager. Propping his hip against the desk, he sifted through his remaining messages. Nothing earthshaking in the bunch. His thoughts drifted to Laura.

  Apparently when she took on a friendship, she assumed responsibility for that person’s happiness. Such unprofessional blind loyalty annoyed him—almost as much as the wistful pangs he tried to ignore.

  In all fairness, Brenda Lee handled the job with skill and finesse. He pulled the pink slip from his pocket, reread her message and snorted. If she would just curb her tongue and dress properly, he would consider the agency lucky—

  “What kind of message did she leave this time?” Laura’s husky voice spoke from behind.

  Alec spun around. She stood ten feet in front of the door, an amused gleam in her eyes. He unclenched his fists.

  “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Open a door and walk on tile without making a sound?”

  Her golden eyes grew mysterious, her smile self-satisfied. As she crossed to the reception desk, slim and graceful in a sweeping navy blue skirt and tailored white blouse, she reminded him once more of a cat.

  “I can walk through a loft of hay without making a rustle, so this is a piece of cake.” She glanced down at her red leather flats. “I’d never pull it off wearing shoes like Brenda Lee’s.”

  Her words conjured a sudden image of long shapely legs in spiked heels. Only the legs weren’t Brenda Lee’s. Damn his imagination, anyway.

  “Alec?” Eyes puzzled, Laura laid her hand on his sleeve.

  His senses leapt to attention at her gentle touch. He jerked his arm away, then glanced at his watch. “It’s almost eight. I need to get some calls made before things get crazy.”

  “Sure. No problem.” Her eyelids fluttered and dropped—but not before he’d seen her wounded look.

  Well, hell. Alec grabbed his briefcase and fled the room. Hitting his office at top speed, he let out a pent-up breath. Like it or not, Laura was his business partner for one year. He’d better settle down and stop this schoolboy fantasizing before he screwed things up completely.

  Pulling a fresh legal pad from his desk drawer, he jotted down notes for the staff meeting. After a few minutes, his pencil slowed. Laura’s face stared back from the lined yellow paper in a series of expressions. Outrage. Fury. Impudence. Delight.

  The corners of his mouth lifted. As he’d guessed at their first meeting, her golden brown eyes and wide sensitive mouth revealed exactly what she was feeling when she was feeling it. She wasn’t the least bit afraid of him, a fact that pleased him on a gut-deep level he refused to analyze.

  More and more, he’d been wondering what those eyes might look like in the throes of passion. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. If she ever suspected her effect on him...

  Alec grimaced at the power it would give her. Power she could and no doubt would use to gain control of the agency and his peace of mind. For all her refreshing candor, she was ambitious. Hell, she’d be a fool not to take advantage of his weakness. And Laura Hayes was no fool.

  The sound of high heels tapping toward his office announced Brenda Lee’s arrival. She stepped through the door bearing a steaming cup of coffee in one hand.

  Today she wore a bright red scoop-neck dress in some clingy material that stopped well short of her knees. The same getup on another woman might have seemed a bit inappropriate for the office. On Brenda Lee, it bordered on being scandalous.

  “Who died, boss? Harold, maybe?” she asked on a hopeful note.

  Alec smiled in spite of himself. Brenda Lee had taken an instant dislike to his media director and vice versa. “He wouldn’t give you the pleasure, I’m afraid.”

  She clicked across the floor in red spiked heels at least four inches high. “Oh, well, tomorrow’s another day.” Setting his coffee mug on the desk, she sat uninvited in one of his two guest chairs. “Don’t get used to this service, Mr. McDonald. I just needed
an excuse to see you in private and say thank you.”

  “Thank you?”

  “Yeah, you remember. Those two words people say when you’ve done something nice for them?”

  Actually, he couldn’t remember the last time someone had thanked him for anything. It was a sobering thought.

  “Don’t play dumb now,” she continued. “Laura told me how you picked me over the other candidates for this job, knowing I was having a hard time changing careers and all.”

  He kept his expression blank. “Laura told you that?”

  She leaned forward and grabbed the edge of his desk. “Oh, please don’t be mad at her. She said you wouldn’t want me to know. But I couldn’t let you think I don’t appreciate your kindness. I...I’ve waited a long time for this kind of job.”

  A remnant of chivalry kept him from asking why no one had hired her before now.

  Her green eyes sparkling with unshed tears, she lifted her chin. “I’m not dumb. I graduated top of the class at Thompson’s Institute of Business Technology. But the men who interviewed me would take one look at me and either think I was stupid or want to get in my pa—” She bit her lip and blushed. “Well, you know what I mean.”

  Alec could guess. A surprising surge of anger at those faceless men welled up out of nowhere. He looked Brenda Lee in the eye. “I don’t know why you’d thank me for making a smart business decision. I expected you to do an exceptional job, and you haven’t disappointed me. Now, why don’t you go start earning your salary?”

  Brenda Lee straightened her spine, pride replacing her embarrassment. “Yes, sir, boss, sir.” Tossing her shoulder-length blond hair, she rose and walked, hips swaying, toward the door.

  He waited for his body’s response. Nothing. What the hell was wrong with him?

  Just before she stepped into the hall, Brenda Lee turned. “Don’t tell Laura I told you what she said, okay, Mr. McDonald? She’d feel real bad.”

  Alec lifted an eyebrow. “Yes, I imagine she would. Don’t worry. It’ll be our secret.”

  As she headed down the hallway, Alec rolled his pencil back and forth across the yellow pad. Laura had to stop undermining his authority. As it was, he walked a thin tightrope. One inch to the left or right, and at best, he’d fall on his face before the business community and become one more entrepreneurial failure. At worst, he’d snap and...