Needing a breather, he walked past her. “I’m going to put some diesel into my engine.”
And he was out the door before she could say anything else.
Fine timing. Not only could he escape the frustrating enigma that was Christina, but he could grab something to quench his dry mouth. And while he was there, he could even meet his apology quota for the day and say sorry to Twyla.
As he headed for the cafeteria via the elevator, he tried to keep his head from exploding.
Jack. The presentation. The maddening woman who’d turned his world topsy-turvy in the matter of a few days.
What had happened to the carefree life he’d shaped for himself?
After searching for the break area—this was only the second time he’d been there aside from a firstday tour given by Patrick—Derek asked directions from a female broker. She seemed stunned that he was talking to her.
Excellent. Nothing like being the boss everyone cringed from. He’d taken great pains in New York to avoid that sort of reputation, and he’d have to correct it.
When he got to the crowded lunchroom, he acclimated himself, remembering how the place was set up. Vending machines were located in a far alcove, where a few more tables waited, allowing some privacy for the workers.
Walking through the hamburger-and-grease-tainted room, he left a trail of hushed conversations in his wake, all the while searching for Twyla. When he stopped to ask a table of women if they’d seen her, they accommodated him by pointing to a room just behind the soda machines.
Efficient. He’d get his drink, then drop in to do a little employee maintenance.
As he deposited his coins into the slots, he heard whispers from the nearby tables, then a discussion from around the corner. Sounded like Twyla’s voice, but she was hidden by half of a wall, and Derek couldn’t be sure.
“…and then she told me that flirting in the office would get me in a sticky situation,” she said.
Definitely Twyla’s chirpy twang.
A male voice—Adam?—said, “If you ask me, I’d follow Christina’s advice. You just never know these days. As a guy, I’m scared to death to tell a harmless joke for fear that some woman’s going to jump all over my case. It could mean a sexual harassment suit.”
Derek’s ears perked up with interest.
“Oh, lighten up,” Twyla said. “When I smile at you during work hours, do you feel threatened? That’s all I was doing.”
Several male voices laughed and denied the danger to their manhood.
Derek knew he shouldn’t be here listening, but he was still trying to decide which drink he wanted. Water or Gatorade? Decisions, decisions.
Besides, they were talking about Christina. How could he not be lured by the subject?
“At any rate,” Twyla continued, “she’s the last one to talk. I heard through the grapevine that she was out with Derek last night. Out out, if you know what I mean.”
What? How did they…?
“Are you sure?” It sounded like Seth, a stalwart kid if Derek had ever met one. “Christina’s a pretty straight arrow. All business.”
“Oh, yeah.” Twyla laughed. “Edith Lavery was at Ms. Monkey Business’s condo this morning, and she thought something was brewing between our boss man and Christina. Something more than just flirting. I mean, how dare she lecture me about office etiquette when she boinks her way into jobs?”
Hoooold on. Enough was enough.
As the guys at the table responded by either questioning or protesting, Derek stepped around the corner to indeed find Twyla holding court in a near-empty alcove with a kitchen sink and refrigerator. Seth and Jonathan had already stood from their seats.
All of the crowd blanched when they spotted him.
“For the record,” Derek said, voice barely held in check, “Christina Mendoza is qualified beyond a doubt. And gossiping about your bosses in the building is probably not the wisest career move.”
“I…uh…” Twyla said.
“Stay here for a minute, Ms. Daraway. For the rest of you, take lunch somewhere else. And I suggest you come back to my office in forty-five minutes with your minds erased of idle gossip.”
“Yes, Mr. Rockwell,” the guys said, filing past him with lunch trays in hand.
As Seth and Jonathan walked out of the room, Derek nodded to them, knowing they weren’t the cancer in the group.
That left Twyla alone with him.
“Care to explain why you’d stab Christina—who’s only looked out for you from day one—in the back?” he asked.
“I didn’t mean anything by it.” Twyla’s face was red as she locked her gaze on the table. “It’s just that I heard—”
“Do you realize what gossip could do to a career?”
Especially a woman’s, he thought, regretting that he’d inadvertently made this happen to Christina.
He was no stranger to the female mind. He knew how ruthless they could be when it came to taking each other down. Part of him couldn’t help wondering if Twyla was jealous of the rumored romance since she’d been trying to win him over herself.
“I didn’t realize…” she said, just about shriveling into her bright blue suit.
“This is the way it works,” Derek said. “We’re going to Personnel, and they’ll counsel you about spreading malicious gossip. It’ll be documented and serve as a warning.”
“But…”
“Listen, Twyla. Christina’s on your side. We both agree that you’re a strong employee, but we don’t play turncoat here at Fortune-Rockwell. You need to adjust your attitude if you want to be here for the long run.”
Drawing herself up, Twyla raised her chin. “I’ll stop. I promise, Mr. Rockwell.”
Should he believe her? As Christina had noted, this woman was still young and would make many mistakes in her career. Hell, he’d been the same way, even under Patrick’s guidance.
Truthfully, Twyla seemed to have the stuff of success in her, and maybe that would win out over her missteps.
Still, what she’d said about Christina made him want to stand up for his employee, to defend her.
But his outrage was purely professional, he told himself.
“On a personal note,” he said, anger boiling over once again, “I respect Ms. Mendoza more than you can imagine. She’s an amazing businesswoman, and she doesn’t deserve your pettiness.”
“I really am sorry.” And Twyla looked it, with her mouth turned down in a frown and her lashes batting furiously to keep back more tears. “I’ll apologize to Christina and tell everyone that the rumors aren’t true.”
“That’s a start,” he said.
As he waited for his employee to walk out of the room ahead of him, Derek finally chose water from the vending machine.
He’d need something to put out the flames he’d caused for Christina.
“She said what?” Christina asked, feeling the blood drain out of her skin.
Derek had dismissed the team to work on individual projects for the afternoon, asking his right-hand woman to stay behind. But she’d had no idea he was going to tell her about Twyla and her lethal gabbing.
Sitting her down on the leather couch—probably because it looked as if she were going to fall—Derek said, “Twyla was telling the guys about a rumor that’s going around. Your mom’s friend, Edith, has been talking.”
This wasn’t happening. Not again.
Years ago, Rebecca Waters had done the same thing to Christina. Had told the entire office that she was bringing sexual harassment charges against William Dugan for no good reason. That Christina had tried to seduce him and had become resentful when the married William had spurned her advances.
Derek glanced at his assistant who was planted just outside the door at her desk. He’d made sure Dora would be present during this entire talk, just so they wouldn’t be alone anymore, causing additional gossip.
“Twyla won’t do it again,” he said, “not after she realizes how serious this is. Personnel is taking car
e of that right now.”
“When I was twenty-four,” Christina said, “I wouldn’t have dreamed of talking that way about my boss. Do you think this was all an innocent error? Or does she have an agenda?”
When Derek didn’t answer right away, Christina shook her head, then asked, “Are we keeping Twyla on the team?”
“I’m leaving that up to you.”
After everything that had happened between them, it was nice to know that he still respected her judgment.
“She’s doing a bang-up job with the classes,” she said. “Taking her off that project would set us back.”
“Then maybe we can leave her with that and use the guys for the new phase. That’ll give Twyla the opportunity to show us she’s serious about making some amends.”
“Sounds like a good solution.”
But what was she going to do about Edith? The older woman couldn’t help herself when it came to flapping her jaws. Maybe Christina should invite her to breakfast tomorrow along with Mama, just to let them know how much damage had been done.
Derek was watching her, concern etched in the tiny crinkles near his eyes. His gaze had darkened, black as a deep cave that hid thousands of secrets.
Was he angry because his employees had misbehaved today?
Or…Christina didn’t even dare think it.
But she did. Was he enraged for her sake?
Something told her it was more personal than business, that he was offended for her. The realization warmed her frozen heart, made her feel protected, even though he was the one she needed to guard against.
“Christina,” he asked softly, “are you okay?”
“I’m just fine.” She couldn’t let him see how Twyla had reached in and stirred awake her worst fears.
“All right, then.” This was his cue to go back to his spot behind the desk, but he didn’t move. Instead, he reached one of his hands toward her, as if he wanted to touch her again.
Wounded by today’s events, Christina jerked back from him, eyes wide.
They both stared at each other, at a loss.
An eternal second later, she jolted out of her seat and gathered her materials. “I’ll be in my office.” Blocking out his response, she didn’t look back at him.
Because all she’d see was her past.
And all of her mistakes.
Chapter Ten
Christina managed to get through the rest of the week without more professional disasters.
Though the gossip hadn’t wrecked her career, it had made her a minor celebrity of sorts around the office. Wherever she went, gazes followed, and she knew what they were probably thinking: She’s sleeping her way to the top.
But no one ever came right out and said it, due to the way Derek had handled Twyla and Edith, whom he’d also sent to Personnel for counseling and paperwork.
In truth, many employees acted as if they hadn’t heard the gossip at all. A lot of them had even introduced themselves, thanking Christina for all her suggested company improvements. Thanking her for caring.
And, adding to the growing love train, Twyla had done her part by bringing Christina flowers while apologizing profusely for what she’d done.
As for the boss himself? Well, he’d taken to treating her like an official co-worker, never requesting one-on-one meetings without another person present. Never asking her to the corner café for lunch or dinner anymore.
There was definitely a professional distance between them, one Christina had encouraged herself.
But there were also moments that told her she hadn’t gotten far enough away from him.
During every meeting, when she’d inevitably give in to the lure of glancing at her sexy boss—just to tide herself over, naturally—she’d catch him watching her with a breath-stealing hunger in his eyes.
But it wasn’t anything more than lust, Christina told herself each time they’d lock gazes, then abruptly disconnect. By his own admission, Rockwell wasn’t capable of anything more.
When the weekend finally arrived, Christina made a valiant effort to put the office behind her. Unlike the first rushed presentation, the team had this one well in hand. They’d be sharing their “creative” and “recreational” room findings late next week and, unbelievably, they were ahead of schedule.
Which meant she was allowed to enjoy herself for now.
If she could remember how.
At the moment, she was trying to do so as she sat at a courtyard table in Papa’s restaurant, Red.
Relax, she thought, twisting a napkin in her hands.
Yes, twisting. Just like a heroine in a melodrama who was watching the mustachioed villain rip up the deed to her beloved land.
Realizing her failure to de-stress, Christina tossed the linen onto her lap and continued waiting for Gloria and Sierra to arrive for lunch. Papa had already been by to serve her a large, unsweetened glass of iced tea, garnished with a mint sprig and lemon, leaving her alone to listen to the burbling fountain as well as the never-ending Greek chorus of her conscience.
She wasn’t going to think about Fortune-Rockwell anymore, darn it.
Instead, she reminded herself of how lucky she was to be back in Red Rock. And in Red itself.
The restaurant was a converted two-story hacienda that had once been owned by a historically influential Spanish family. While the first floor was decorated like a cozy casa with thick, dark-wooded tables and chairs, low lighting, greenery, ceiling fans and terra-cotta tiles, the second was used for office space and storage.
Though the inside was comfortable, Christina far preferred the courtyard. With the red umbrellas covering pine tables and gaily hued paper lanterns strung around the perimeter, she couldn’t help but feel welcome here.
Just as Christina finally closed her eyes and permitted herself to do nothing for the afternoon, Gloria arrived, placing a hand over her sister’s mouth.
“Shhh,” she said. “Something’s going on.”
When Christina opened her eyes, Gloria removed her hand, pointing toward the ivy-strewn iron gates that offered a peek of the outside world.
She could barely see two people standing there, facing each other. Voices murmured, words unintelligible.
“It’s Sierra,” whispered Gloria. “And she’s with one of her buddies. Alex Calloway.”
“Oh, I’ve heard that name before. He’s a friend from college, right? And she thinks he’s always on her case.”
“Si, Christina. You sound as suspicious as I am. Do you think he’s a good way for Sierra to lose our bet?”
The bet.
Christina gulped. She wasn’t going to say a word about losing it. Besides, she wasn’t involved with Derek. Never had been.
That meant she was still in the race. Right?
As Gloria sat down, the sun shining on her long, honey-light hair, Christina saw that she was wearing a smart white halter top and skirt with new earrings. Graceful dream catchers, woven with turquoise and fine strands of silver.
Her sister’s talent with jewelry choked Christina up a little. Yes, it was silly, to be emotionally moved by earrings. But this particular art had been Gloria’s saving grace, a therapeutic way of recovering from alcoholism during her time in rehab.
She was so proud of Gloria for beating her troubles.
As Christina basked in the feeling, they both tried to hear what Sierra and Alex were saying to each other. But there were only raised voices, then a parting of the ways as the couple cleared the gate.
Alex went one direction, Sierra the other.
It didn’t take long for their youngest sister to make her way to the table, a slight breeze knocking around the dark curls of her hair, the skirt of her pink sundress. She looked fresh, sweet, so baby-sisterish that Christina just wanted to protectively banish that frown marring her pretty face.
As they all hugged and kissed hello, Christina tried to ignore how out of place she felt in her conservative shorts and blouse. She was a soccer mom next to fashionable Gloria and lov
ely Sierra.
Think it’s time to loosen up? she thought.
After all, it’d felt pretty good the other night with Derek.
“Sierra, what’s wrong?” Gloria asked as they all took their seats again.
“Ohhhh.” Sierra growled in frustration. “That Alex. You’d think I’d broken into his home or something with the way he treats me.”
Christina and Gloria exchanged glances, knowing better.
“Are you caught up in his business?” Gloria asked.
“Of course not!” Sierra furrowed her brow, reconsidering. “Then again, maybe I was. But all I did was ask him if he’d purchased a gift for his adoptive mom’s birthday yet.”
Since Sierra had already told her sisters about her circle of college friends, Christina knew that Alex was touchy about having been adopted. Sierra’s habit of tracking his personal relationships no doubt rankled him.
Christina wanted to comfort her younger sister, especially since Sierra had tried to make her feel better so many times in the past. She’d been one of few beacons of hope during the dark times of William Dugan and the falling-out with Gloria.
But, then again, all this worrying about other people wasn’t doing Sierra any good. Christina hated to see her wilt from too much stress.
“Sierra,” she said, placing a hand over her sister’s, “even though you’re so good at loving, you don’t need to be everyone’s caretaker.”
After a pause, Sierra grabbed onto Christina’s hand in a tender squeeze, then let go. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I won’t give a hoot about Alex anymore. He doesn’t appreciate my efforts anyway.”
Leaning back in her chair, Gloria had a wheels-are-turnin’ look in her eyes. “By all means, Sierra, please give a hoot. I have a lot of heinous work in mind. Lots of embarrassing chores to make up for your man temptation.”
Oh, boy. Christina was in mucho trouble if they ever found out about Derek.
“No, oh, no.” Sierra sat back, too, gripping the arms of her pine wood chair. “You won’t see me losing this bet, Gloria. Especially not with a rude ingrate like Alex.”
“That’s all she wrote, then.” Gloria turned her attention to Christina. “I guess I’ll just have to depend on my big sister to blow it with Mr. Rockwell.”
Fortune's Heirs: Reunion Page 29
