The Billionaire and His Boss
Page 5
She was very pretty, but too young for him, nearer his sister’s age than his. He guessed she was probably in her early twenties. He knew a lot of men who had married women fifteen and twenty years younger than them—in fact, the older the men, the more they seemed to like young women. But he wanted someone who wasn’t a kid. Someone with ideas, who maybe read the newspaper and had opinions on more than fashions and movies.
Someone like P.J.
The thought came unbidden, almost surprising him. Yet he knew it had been brewing for a while.
“So how do you like working at HuntCom?” Carrie asked.
“I like it fine.”
She smiled. “And we certainly like having you.”
Her tone left no doubt that she was flirting with him. “Thanks,” he answered casually. “It seems like a good place to work.”
“You want a beer?” Rick said, pushing his chair back and standing.
“Yeah, but I can go get it. Or wait for the waitress to bring me one.”
“Okay. Enjoy. I’ve gotta get going or Maria will kill me.”
There were good-natured mutters of “henpecked” and “who wears the pants in your family, Rick?” as he headed for the bar.
The moment he was gone, Carrie slid over onto his vacated seat. She smiled up at Alex. “So I hear you’re from Sacramento?”
“Not from Sacramento. I was born in the San Diego area.”
That was actually true. Alex’s mother had been visiting friends in La Jolla when her water broke—three weeks early—and she gave birth to Alex there. Without Harry’s presence, as she had bitterly said more than once.
“I worked in Sacramento before moving here, though.” Alex felt he could carry this myth off without tripping himself up because he’d spent a couple of weeks in Sacramento in the course of doing the foundation’s work.
“What made you come to this area?”
“My brothers all live around here.” Now why did he say that?
“Brothers?” Her eyes met his coyly. “Are they all as good-looking as you are?”
Alex was saved from having to answer by Rick’s reappearance. “Hey,” he said to Carrie. “You stole my seat.”
She grinned. “Yes, I did.”
He made a face at Alex, handed him his beer—Miller on tap—and sat in her old seat.
“You guys want to hear a joke?” said one of the men on the other side of the table.
“Is it clean? There are ladies present,” someone else—Alex thought his name was Mike—said.
“Ladies?” the jokester countered, laughing. “I don’t see no ladies.”
“Hey, watch it,” Carrie said.
“Oh. Didn’t see you there, Carrie,” he answered with a mock frown.
The banter continued and Alex was able to turn his attention away from Carrie without being rude, but when Rick got up a few minutes later, saying he had to leave, she put her hand on Alex’s arm and leaned closer.
“I know a much quieter and nicer place where we could have some privacy.” Her smile was suggestive. “And they have much better food.”
Alex was taken off-guard and for a moment and couldn’t think how to answer her. “Thanks, Carrie, but I have to be going myself.”
She pouted. “Oh, do you? Darn. I was really hoping to get to know you better.”
And Alex had been hoping to have dinner there, with the others, especially if P.J. should show up, but now there was no way he could. Damn. He’d have to figure out a way to head little Miss Carrie off at the pass. She wasn’t even being subtle about her intentions. But she was definitely too young for him, no matter how pretty and sexy she was. More important, he couldn’t imagine his aunt approving of someone like her, even if he were interested.
After draining his beer, he stood. “Have a good weekend, everyone. I’ve got to be going, too.”
“Sure you won’t change your mind?” Carrie asked.
Alex just shook his head and said his goodbyes, making a quick exit.
As he drove home to his apartment, he wondered if J.T. and Gray were faring any better than he was in finding a suitable candidate to be the next Mrs. Hunt. Justin, of course, had already found his—the mother of his year-old daughter, Ava. A daughter Justin’d had no idea even existed, because Lily, Ava’s mother and Justin’s former lover, had never told him about her after their breakup.
Alex smiled thinking of Ava. He hadn’t met his niece yet but he’d seen a photo of her, and she was a winner. With her dark hair and dimples, she was clearly a Hunt. In fact, she looked exactly like Justin. And from the look on Harry’s face when he’d seen that photo, she’d already captured his heart.
For a moment when Justin had told them about Lily, Ava’s mother, Alex had hoped Harry would drop the challenge for the rest of them. After all, he had his much-coveted grandchild now. But no such luck. Harry had only said the rest of them had better get busy.
Alex knew he’d have to make up his mind soon. Pick one of the women he’d met or make an effort to meet someone new. It was already entering the second week of September and he needed a bride and a baby on the way by next July.
What would Harry do if one of the brides wasn’t pregnant by July? Hell, there were no guarantees. Surely the old man would be fair. If they’d fulfilled their part by marrying suitable women, surely Harry would give them some leeway on the pregnancy question.
But what if he didn’t?
What if, after finding brides, they ended by losing their stakes in Harry’s empire, anyway?
P.J. was just about to walk out the door when her cell phone rang. Checking the number, she saw it was her brother.
She pressed the talk button. “Hey, Peter, what’s up?”
“Nothing much. Just haven’t talked to you in a couple of weeks and thought I’d better see if you were still alive.”
Why was it Peter always made her feel guilty? “I’ve been busy. For some reason, lots of people have decided they need Hunt products this month.”
“So business is good?”
“Very good.”
“And you still like that…job?”
“I still like my job.” Peter asked the same questions every time they talked. It was as if he couldn’t believe anyone could possibly enjoy the kind of work she did. He was always telling her she was wasting her education, not to mention her brain. His lack of respect for what she did used to make P.J. mad. Now she just patiently gave him the same answers and ignored his jabs.
“Allison said to tell you hello. She’s looking forward to seeing you at Dad’s birthday dinner next week.”
P.J.’s father would turn seventy the following Saturday and they were celebrating with a big family dinner at her parents’ home.
“I still haven’t figured out what to buy him,” she said. “He has everything. What’re you and Allison giving him?”
Peter laughed. “You’re not going to believe this.”
“What?”
“A guitar.”
“A guitar!”
“It was Allison’s idea.”
P.J. was laughing now, too. “Did he say he wanted a guitar?”
“Nope. But you know how he is. A total workaholic. Allison said he needed something to do that was relaxing and fun. A hobby of some kind. So we settled on a guitar. I mean, he used to like Dylan. I actually heard him listening to Dylan’s music once.”
P.J. was still laughing. “Maybe I should arrange for him to have some lessons.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“Think so? Okay, then. I will.” Somehow she didn’t think her father was going to be pleased, but she had to hand it to Allison and Peter. They had guts.
“So what are you doing tonight?” Peter asked. “Got a hot date?”
P.J. snorted. “Yeah. Sure. Actually, I was just getting ready to join some of the guys from work at a local pub.”
“I won’t keep you then. See you next week, okay?”
They said their goodbyes, and P.J. finished clearing
off her desk, then headed out the door. Fifteen minutes later, she walked into Jake’s Grill. Quickly scanning the crowded room, she spied the group from HuntCom.
Even as she told herself she wasn’t looking for him, her gaze traveled around the group to see if Alex was there. When she didn’t see him, she told herself she wasn’t disappointed. If anything, she was relieved.
But she knew she was lying.
“Hey, P.J. ’Bout time you got here.” This came from Mike Fields, who worked out at the docks.
Everyone scooted their chairs to make room for her, and P.J. grabbed an empty chair from another table and squeezed in between Carrie Wancheck and Chick Fogarty.
She motioned to a nearby waitress. “I’ll have a bottle of Beck’s, Jessie.”
“Sure thing, P.J.”
Carrie nudged P.J.’s arm. “You just missed Alex.”
P.J.’s traitorous heart skipped a beat. “Alex who?”
“Oh, c’mon, P.J. Alex Noble. Your new sexy employee. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh. Him.”
“Yeah, him. I tried to persuade him to go to Costello’s with me, but he had to leave.”
P.J. pretended indifference. “Maybe he had a date.”
Carrie frowned. “Think so?”
“A man like him? I don’t see him sitting home on a Friday night.”
“Shoot. You’re probably right. Well, I’m not giving up. Guys like Alex don’t come along every day.”
“You know, Carrie, he really is a lot older than you are. And you don’t know anything about him.”
“He’s gorgeous, he’s well-spoken, he smells good, and he has a fantastic smile. I mean, those dimples!” Carrie sighed. “The only thing he doesn’t have is money.”
P.J. refrained from rolling her eyes. “How do you know that?”
“Oh, please. As if he’d be working as a picker if he did. I mean, come on, P.J.”
Not for the first time, P.J. wondered what her coworkers would think if they knew about her and her family. Then again, she knew what they’d think. It was the reason she’d decided to use initials instead of her first name, which was Paige, when she’d come to work for HuntCom.
P.J. wanted to be treated like everyone else, and if they’d known she was the daughter of Peter Prescott Kincaid and—until she’d repudiated it—heiress to a multimillion-dollar trust fund, there was no way she’d be one of the guys the way she was now.
“Well, money or not, he’s still too old for you,” P.J. said.
“He’s not that old. I’m guessing he’s in his early thirties.”
“Thirty-six.” P.J. had checked his application.
“So? That’s only fifteen years older than me. Big deal.”
“He might have an ex-wife and ten kids.”
“Oh, please,” Carrie said, rolling her eyes.
P.J. could see that nothing she said was going to head Carrie off. She had set her sights on Alex, and she wasn’t going to be persuaded otherwise.
And why should you care?
She didn’t care. As a thirty-year-old, more experienced woman, she just felt she should look out for the younger women at work, that’s all.
But even as she told herself this, P.J. knew she was lying to herself. For some reason, Alex Noble intrigued her. More than intrigued her.
Admit it, you’re attracted to him.
Even though there was something about him that just didn’t add up and even though she’d told Courtney she didn’t believe in dating an employee and even though she knew there’d be no future in it—how could there be, given her situation?—she knew if Alex Noble were to ask her out, she would want to say yes.
But it would be madness. Absolute madness. Dating Alex Noble would do nothing but cause trouble for her.
So, regretfully, even if he were to ask her out, she would have to say no.
Chapter Five
N ow that he was almost home, Alex wasn’t sure he really wanted to go there. So what did he want to do? He was hungry, but he didn’t feel like stopping at any of the restaurants he’d seen and eating by himself. Nor did he feel like cooking tonight, although cooking was one of his passions.
Normally he loved cooking for himself, and he never minded eating alone. But tonight…tonight he wanted company.
Oh, hell, admit it. You’re lonely.
He wondered what his brothers would say if he ever admitted this to them. They all seemed perfectly happy to be single. Well, maybe not Justin anymore. Now that Lily, the mother of his child, was back in his life, he seemed different. Alex knew without being told that calling Lily when he first knew he had to find a bride quickly was one of the best decisions Justin had ever made. It was obvious that he cared about her. Alex didn’t know the background of the two of them—only that they’d been lovers at one time.
But J.T. and Gray? They were stereotypical, self-possessed and self-absorbed bachelors—J.T. with his island and Gray with his business interests.
Alex had always known he was different from his brothers, and this deep-seated loneliness had always isolated him even more. Part of Alex knew the loneliness would only be assuaged by having someone to share his life, someone who loved him unconditionally. He also knew he probably wouldn’t feel this way if he’d had that kind of love from either his mother or Harry.
Don’t go there.
Alex forced himself to stop thinking about what he didn’t have in his life. Long ago he’d made up his mind that he wasn’t going to feel sorry for himself. Instead, he would build the kind of life he wanted with the kinds of people he wanted to be around, and he would be content with that. But no matter how many times he’d reinforced his goals, he couldn’t seem to erase that bone-deep loneliness that always seemed to be waiting for him anytime he lowered his guard.
Tonight was one of those nights.
In an effort to put off the time when he’d have to face his empty apartment, Alex decided to stop at the bookstore he’d noticed in a shopping center a block over from his street. He was just about out of reading material and he knew Greg Isles had a new book out, one Alex was looking forward to reading.
After killing three-quarters of an hour and spending more than a hundred bucks on books, Alex’s stomach began to grumble. Time to head home. But as he walked out to the parking lot, he spied a Thai restaurant he hadn’t noticed before. He loved Thai food and hadn’t had any in weeks.
Abruptly changing his mind about going home, he switched direction and headed for the entrance to the restaurant.
Alex finished some really excellent hot and sour soup and an order of crispy egg rolls and settled back into his booth to wait for his entree. He was glad he’d decided to eat at the restaurant rather than getting takeout. Even though he was alone, he felt better here than he would have in his empty apartment.
He sipped at his Singha beer and idly watched the other diners: an Oriental family of four with exceptionally well-behaved young boys, a college-age couple who were obviously lovers, a middle-aged couple who kept smiling at each other, and a table of four seniors who were laughing and talking like old friends.
Alex felt wistful as he watched.
A moment later, the bell on the front door jangled as a new customer walked in. Alex looked up. Blinked. And looked closer. Yes, that was definitely P.J. approaching the hostess. He watched as she picked up one of the takeout menus and studied it.
In his second impulsive act of the evening, he slid from the booth and walked to the front.
She looked up at his approach. The expression that flitted across her face—which she quickly banished—gave Alex the distinct feeling she was as pleased to see him as he was to see her.
“Hey, P.J.,” he said.
“Hi, Alex.”
“You placing a takeout order?”
“That’s the plan.”
The hostess, a pretty girl who looked about seventeen, looked curiously from one to the other.
“How about joining me instead?”
“Good. I’m not, either.”
He led her to his booth and waited until she slid in across from him before taking his seat. The pretty hostess had followed them and she handed P.J. a menu. “I’ll send your waiter,” she said before leaving them.
P.J. glanced at the menu, then set it aside. “So how are you liking your job now that you’ve been with us a while?”
Alex was glad he could answer truthfully. “I’m enjoying it a lot.”
“That’s good. I confess, I’m surprised.”
“Surprised? Why?”
“You just don’t seem the type to be working at the center.”
“What type is that?”
She leaned back, a smile teasing the edges of her mouth. “I had you pegged for a college man. You seem much better suited to a white-collar job.”
“I could say the same about you.”
“Oh, really?”
Alex returned her smile. “Yes, really.”
“Well, you’d be wrong. My job suits me perfectly.”
“You certainly do it well.”
Once again, that pleased expression flitted across her face. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Just then, their waiter approached.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” P.J. said, pointing to Alex’s bottle of beer.
“And I’ll have another,” Alex said.
“I also want the pad thai,” P.J. said.
Alex grinned. “I already ordered some. Want to get something different and we can share?”
“Sure. How about the green curry chicken?”
“Great.”
Once the waiter had gone, P.J. settled back again and said, “So where were we?”
“Saying neither one of us looks the type to be working in a big warehouse.” Alex figured he might as well be up-front about her comment. No sense pretending it hadn’t been said.
She studied him thoughtfully. “Did you ever go to college?”