Falling For Her Boss

by Kay Lyons

  “Are you that upset that Ellen called me to help you find a job?”

  She nearly stumbled going up the steps. Ellen had called him to—

  Bryan unlocked and opened the door. “She cares for your father, Melissa, no doubt about it. Like I said— What?”

  “You hired me because of her?” Anger surged through her, propelled by hurt and embarrassment. “How could you— Let go!”

  Bryan had grasped her upper arm and was looking over her shoulder toward Ellen’s home before he maneuvered her inside.

  “Let go!”

  He did. But only after he’d shut the door and placed his broad palm against the metal panel by her head, trapping her. The hair on his forearm teased her cheek and all her senses reacted, leaving her no room to escape.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Her breathing became gasping pants she tried to control, every inhalation bringing with it the tantalizing scent of his cologne. Bryan used to smell like boy and dog and peanut butter sandwiches.

  “I’m setting the record straight before you embarrass all of us.” His head lowered until he was at eye level with her. “You and Ellen didn’t talk about that in the kitchen, did you?”

  She almost smirked, would’ve if she’d found the situation the slightest bit funny. But Bryan admitting he’d only hired her because of Ellen… She couldn’t laugh about that. “Nope.”

  He swore softly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth and—”

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad I know. It makes things a lot easier.”

  He stilled. “What things?”

  “I quit.”

  “Oh no, you don’t. Melissa, it isn’t what you think,” he murmured huskily.

  “How do you get that? Because what I think is that Ellen somehow convinced you to hire me, which gets you the help you need, me out of the way and Ellen the marriage she wants.”

  “I admit Ellen was the person who told me you were looking for work, but she didn’t make me hire you and to insinuate she has that power implies a deeper relationship than friendship. Something I’m certain your father wouldn’t appreciate.”

  Meaning they were more than friends—or had been—and her dad suspected? Was that why her dad hadn’t liked the idea of Bryan returning for leftovers? “If not because of her then why did you hire me?”

  Did it matter why? Melissa tried to sink into the unyielding door to escape, but it didn’t work. And it did matter. She might be desperate to reestablish her independence, but she couldn’t handle being thought of as a charity case by her childhood friend.

  “Didn’t we go over this last night? I hired you because I figured—” Bryan’s voice lowered to a gravelly pitch “—you’d want to prove everyone who thinks you’re too fragile or ill or unemployable wrong. I hired you because a long time ago, we were friends.” His eyes glittered in the dimness, the Exit sign above their heads giving his sandy-golden hair and body an orangish cast. “We’re both in a predicament here. I have an opening, you need a job. If you’ve changed your mind, tell me now and let’s be done with this, but don’t blame Ellen or me because you’re not up to the challenge of working for me.”

  Not up to the— “It’s not that simple and you know it.” She shook her head, thankful the movement had him taking note of the lack of space separating them and drawing back. For once he appeared as uncomfortable as she felt, but she was too angry to appreciate the fact. “I don’t like Ellen or you or anyone else thinking I can’t find a job on my own.”

  “Then prove you’re up to keeping it.”

  “Prove I’m up to—You think I can’t do it?” Melissa shoved a finger hard into his chest. “Back off, Booger Boy,” she said, using the nickname he’d earned long ago, “and watch me.”

  Chapter 5

  MELISSA FITTED the floppy hat more firmly to her head and tried not to notice the surprised glances sent her way. She opened the back door of her car and retrieved Ashley’s baby-shower gifts, resisting the urge to dive inside and hide.

  How she had wound up here in the first place was still a mystery. At least to her. The party was being held by Mrs. H. and the garden club that Ashley belonged to, and while Melissa had always adored Mrs. H., she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to face the townspeople at so public a function. Attending the B and B’s opening-day celebration was one thing, but Ashley’s baby shower?

  But she couldn’t decline. Not when the news would spread and cause more gossip. So she had to attend the baby shower with a smile on her face and pretend it didn’t hurt to think of Joe becoming a parent again.

  She wanted her ex-boyfriend to be happy. He deserved to be happy after all he’d been through because of her and the town that had judged him so unjustly—but wanting him happy and dealing with it while oohing and aahing over tiny diapers and baby outfits was just too much.

  Or maybe just punishment?

  After coming to the house with Bryan to tell her the truth about Josie’s death, Ashley had periodically called to check on her. Short conversations about nothing and everything. As Melissa’s recovery had progressed so had their relationship. Now she considered Ashley a friend, but still… Did Ashley realize what kind of attention and gossip Melissa’s attendance would bring?

  Melissa stepped onto the carefully laid stepping-stone path leading around the house and pulled at the neckline of her dress. Several women passed, touring the grounds, and Melissa managed a strained smile in response to their polite nods. Realizing she still tugged at her dress, she forced her hand to her side as she approached the bricked patio off the back porch of the B and B, noticing her reflection in a nearby window. She grimaced when she saw how her wide-brimmed hat covered her short hair and made her look bald. Compared to the tiny, ribboned concoctions the other women wore, her hat was close kin to a sombrero.

  Panicked, Melissa yanked the hat from her head. Short hair did have some advantages after all—it didn’t mess easily. Hat in hand, she discreetly checked her reflection again. Her loose, A-line dress looked more matronly and old-fashioned than anything the other guests wore. Filmy, halter-style sheaths with cleavage-baring Vs and split hems were the items of choice. Unease filled her and she struggled to maintain her composure. This was such a mistake. Maybe she could go in, leave her gift and sneak out the front?

  “Melissa! Hello, dear! I just heard your wonderful news.”

  Mrs. Hilliard, known as Mrs. H. by most everyone under the age of forty due to the woman’s many years of teaching high school English, held out both her hands in greeting. Smiling shakily, Melissa allowed the woman to draw her close for a hug.

  “What news?” she asked, smiling at the older woman’s cherry-red hat and fifties-style purple dress. On Mrs. H. the look was perfect.

  “Your job, dear. Working for Dr. Booker will put you on the right track for earning some money to go back to college. You’ll finish your teaching degree in no time.”

  Melissa blinked. “Oh, but I’m not going back to school.”

  Mrs. H.’s gaze narrowed shrewdly. “I see. And why not?”

  Melissa faltered beneath the other woman’s stare. “Um…”

  “You had nearly completed your course work when you got sick, correct?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then you must return and get your degree.” The older woman peered intensely through the wide black rims of her glasses. “My dear, you were a wonderful student and one of the brightest, most courageous young women I know.”

  “I’m no one special, Mrs. H.”

  She patted her hand. “Nonsense. You are a fighter, child. The fact you’re standing here proves it, and that ability and insight is something children need. Especially these days. Now I insist you go to the college the very next chance you get and pick up a course listing.”

  Melissa stared at her, wondering why everyone seemed to have more faith in her and her recovery than she did. “Mrs. H., the cancer might come back.”

  “Of course it might,” Mrs. H. co
nfirmed, “but it might not, and then what will you have to show for yourself? You won’t have lived up to your potential.” Mrs. H. patted her hand again and nodded firmly before she walked away to greet another guest.

  Melissa mulled over her former teacher’s comments during the next hour as the party moved inside out of the heat. She’d always dreamed of following in Mrs. H.’s footsteps and becoming a teacher. So why not return and get her degree?

  Investing in college, applying and fighting for a position meant she planned to have a future. But the one thing she’d promised herself from the moment she’d been diagnosed with cancer was that she wouldn’t lie to herself. Treatments had advanced so that the survival rate was excellent, but how could she be sure?

  She studied the women occupying Ashley’s large parlor room, hearing bits and pieces of their conversation. Nearly all talked of kids and grandkids and activities, husbands and weddings in the works. The only thing she could think about was Mrs. H.’s words.

  “Melissa? You okay?” Ashley murmured, returning from the bathroom for the third time.

  She blinked and focused on her friend, her smile weak. She was supposed to be writing down the gifts and who’d given them, not people watching or feeling sorry for herself. “I’m fine.”

  “You look really distracted.” Ashley glanced around at her guests, a frown pulling at her lips. She leaned down and lowered her voice. “I’ve heard the talk, too, but you have to ignore it and let the old busybodies eat their words later when we don’t wind up in a catfight over Joe.”

  Melissa laughed. Leave it to Ashley.

  “That’s more like it. See? If it doesn’t bother me, it shouldn’t bother you. Did someone say something insensitive to you? Because if they did—”

  “I’m fine,” she insisted with another small laugh, seeing Ashley’s protectiveness surfacing and appreciating it because it was directed at her. Having grown up in a group home for children, Ashley was very protective of those she considered friends. “I’m just…thinking about something that’s going on with my dad. I’ll tell you about it later.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Sit down and open your presents,” she ordered with a smile. “If you keep going to the bathroom every two minutes, you’re never going to finish unwrapping all your gifts.”

  Ashley smiled, but for the first time since her friend had returned, Melissa noticed a difference in Ashley. A big difference. Her posture, her expression. “Ashley?” Her eyes widened. “Ashley, are you in—”

  “Yes.”

  “Then shouldn’t you—”

  “No.” Ashley gave her a keep quiet glare, inhaled deeply and locked her jaw. A moment passed and then Ashley smiled, but it was tense. “I want to stay home as long as possible. I went to the hospital way too early with Max and hated it, all the waiting and being stuck in bed. I want to be home and comfortable. Please, don’t say anything. I have plenty of time. My contractions only just started.”

  “Ready for more gifts, Ashley?”

  Ashley seated herself beside Melissa and turned to face Mrs. H. The older woman set a gift bag on Ashley’s knees, but when Ashley gasped from the onset of another, obviously harder, contraction, Mrs. H. removed the bag, and then clapped her hands together in rapid succession much like she had in high school.

  “Ladies! Congratulations are in order today. Ashley is in labor!”

  Melissa smiled at her red-faced friend. “So much for keeping it quiet.”

  * * *

  BRYAN WATCHED while Joe dribbled the basketball and prepared to make his move. Before he could, Bryan charged forward and stole the ball from Joe with a taunting grin.

  “Think you’re something, huh, pretty boy?”

  Bryan pivoted, careful to keep the ball out of Joe’s reach. His heart raced from exertion and he dripped with sweat, but since discovering sex with greedy, manipulative, superficial women had lost its appeal, this was the next best thing. “Voted Number-one Doctor by my patients,” he drawled smugly, using the one title he didn’t mind receiving from the Tribune’s contest.

  Joe snickered. “That newspaper contest is rigged. Number-one Bozo is more like it.” He made a grab for the ball.

  Bryan spun away, feinted, took a shot and made it. “Yeah! We’re tied!”

  “I’ve been taking it easy on you.”

  “Bull.” Bryan used the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face and jogged over to retrieve the ball. “Since Ashley fell, you haven’t made love to your wife and it shows. No wonder she asked me to get you out of the house for the baby shower. She didn’t want you hanging around scaring away the guests.”

  Joe lifted both hands, fingers making a bring it on gesture. “At least my celibacy makes sense. Yours makes me wonder. You and Holly broke up a long time ago—”

  “We were never dating exclusively.”

  “—and Ashley didn’t want me around because she felt ridiculous in the getup she had to wear. Who’s ever heard of a tea party for a baby shower?”

  Bryan shrugged and the game began again. He started with the ball, Joe took it, but Bryan blocked his shot.

  “You won’t hurt her, Joe. If her OB says she’s fine, she is. Sex might actually help the process along. And,” he continued, waving his arms high, “sex isn’t the problem.” Bryan didn’t follow Joe’s lunge to one side as expected and when Joe swung around to shoot again, Bryan was ready for him, the ball his. “Besides, I like a challenge and after the newspaper contest… It’s anything but.”

  Sweat dripped off Joe’s nose and he positioned himself to guard Bryan. “Yeah, well, make sure your next challenge isn’t a short-haired blonde who wouldn’t give you the time of day despite the way you kept staring at her.”

  Bryan stumbled before quickly regaining his balance, but it gave Joe the advantage he needed to steal the ball and score.

  “Twenty-nineteen,” Joe crowed. “The pretty boy’s goin’ down!”

  “I wasn’t staring,” Bryan groused. “And if I learned anything from getting involved with Holly, it’s what a disaster it is to mix business with pleasure.”

  Joe gave him a befuddled look. “What’s work got to do with Melissa?”

  He grabbed a water bottle to rinse his dry mouth and spit. “If you haven’t heard the gossip you’re probably the only one. I hired her yesterday.” Bryan regretted his words when Joe’s eyes widened.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah,” he murmured uneasily, aware that Joe wasn’t thrilled by the idea. “What?”

  “Nothing. Just keep it on the up-and-up. Mel’s a sweet girl.”

  “She isn’t a girl.”

  “As her boss you shouldn’t be noticing that.”

  How could he not notice?

  He’d arrived at the B and B to pick Joe up and found himself surrounded by women in floaty, ultra-feminine dresses and hats, Melissa included. The wide brim of her hat had drawn attention to her delicate face and wide, full mouth. The dark blue of her dress had highlighted her eyes, deepening the color to cobalt, and the sight of her had stunned him because while the majority of the women’s blatantly skimpy dresses were fashionable, Melissa’s modest choice had affected him more because she’d looked so… classy and elegant.

  Not notice? Despite unearthing that nightmare of a nickname she’d taunted him with as a child, seeing her all dressed up had almost sent him over the edge with the desire to know more. He’d actually wanted to stay, to watch while Melissa smiled and chatted. She’d looked so different from the other women and infinitely more appealing. Enough to make a man want to kiss the protest from her lips and slip his hands beneath the simple skirt and—

  “She looked nice,” he muttered, yanking himself away from his fantasy before it got too out of hand. Melissa was his friend. And now his employee which meant hands off. “Big deal. It doesn’t change the fact that in a couple hours at the office she did more than all the others combined. Why would I do anything to screw that up?”

  “
Who said you were thinking about it?” Joe countered, bouncing the ball with irritating ease. “Wait—you just did. I’m warning you, B., back off. She doesn’t need you messing with her the way you did the others.”

  Bryan tossed the water bottle aside and rejoined the game, closing the distance in three long, running strides and ignoring the arm Joe stretched out to hold him back. “There weren’t that many others. Besides, she’s an employee.”

  “But you were just thinking about her as more, weren’t you?”

  “Talk or play, Brody.”

  Joe lunged to one side, dribbling the ball with him. “She’s a nice girl.”

  “I never said she wasn’t,” Bryan snapped, wanting Joe to drop the subject…and the ball.

  “Too nice for you. Ashley claims you’re a decent guy—”

  “Your wife talks about me, eh?”

  Joe’s already dark expression turned thunderous. “Not that way—and if you hadn’t kept your hands to yourself when you two went out that night, you’d be choking on this ball, so get that look off your face.”

  Bryan grinned, the advantage his once more. “Uh-huh. Have to admit, Joe, she is a good kisser.”

  Instead of egging him on, Joe abruptly tossed his head back and laughed, the hand possessing the ball unwavering. “Nice try, pretty boy. Ashley ended your date by kissing you on the cheek, but I guess some losers might consider it a kiss.”

  Bryan prepared to make his move. “Maybe I’ve just been hanging around you too much and become addle brained by your endless musings about how great marriage is.”

  “Marriage is great,” Joe said with a snort.

  “Even when you’re sleeping separately?”

  “She doesn’t sleep well now and I thought it would help to give her more room.”

  “Whatever gets you through the night.” Had they not become such good friends, Bryan would’ve been intimidated by the look he received from the solidly built ex-con.

  “Don’t know why you’re so focused on my sleep habits when yours are the talk of the town. Now that I think about it…isn’t the Tribune’s new contest going on right now?”