The Billionaire and His Boss

by Patricia Kay

  “Too bad if the truth hurts,” Richard sputtered.

  “Maybe she felt she was expressing the truth, too,” Alex said.

  There was an audible intake of breath from some of the board members.

  “What does that mean?” Richard said.

  “Just what I said.”

  “I don’t have to sit here and listen to this!” Richard stood so abruptly, he knocked his chair over. “You, young man, think you’re God here. You think you can do whatever you want, whenever you want, just because you’re Harry’s son. Well, let me tell you something. I carry some weight here, too. Let’s just take a vote on this and see who’s right and who’s wrong.”

  “Sit down, Richard,” Alex said calmly.

  “I’ll stand if I want to.” Richard’s face had turned a dark, mottled red.

  Quietly, yet firmly, Alex said, “As long as I’m chairman of this board, we will conduct our business in a professional, courteous manner. You will either sit down and lower your voice or I will ask you to leave.”

  A person could have heard a pin drop. No one moved. No one said a word. And although Richard glared at Alex, he reached back, righted his chair, and sat back down. “I demand you let me make my motion.”

  “Fine,” Alex said, “make it.”

  “I move that the Hunt Foundation stop giving any money to Keep Kids Well and that we permanently strike them from our list of recipients.”

  “Seconded,” said Winston Legrand.

  Alex wasn’t surprised. He’d figured Winston would vote with Richard. “Any discussion?”

  Lydia Cross spoke up. “I think Mrs. Von Kohler exhibited bad judgment by casting doubt about a board member’s intelligence, but I don’t think her lapse should be held against a charity we all know is doing a remarkable job in helping kids at risk.”

  “Helping kids have sex is more like it,” Winston grumbled.

  Richard snorted. “You can say that again.”

  “The condoms are only given to teens who are already having sex,” Lydia pointed out. “And that’s to protect them against HIV.”

  The discussion continued in this vein for more than twenty minutes, with neither side yielding an inch. Finally Alex said, “If there are no new points to raise, I think it’s time for a vote.” He didn’t know what would happen, but clearly, this discussion was a waste of time.

  Alex breathed a sigh of relief when the vote was three in favor of the motion, five against. Alex only voted in the event of a tie, so his vote wasn’t needed.

  “I won’t be a party to this any longer,” Richard said. “I’m resigning from this board, and I will no longer lend my financial support to the foundation.”

  “We’re sorry to see you go,” Alex said, “but it’s your prerogative.”

  Winston looked as if he was going to say something, but he didn’t. Alex almost smiled. Winston liked being on the foundation’s board. Since he’d retired, he had too much time on his hands and he no longer felt that people viewed him as important. Being on the board of the Hunt Foundation helped assuage those feelings and gave him opportunities to pretend he was still a mover and shaker.

  After everyone had gone home, Marti said, “God, I miss you, Alex. When are you going to be done with whatever it is you’re doing?”

  “Soon, I hope.” Alex looked at his watch. It was almost noon. It was too late to worry about going into work at the distribution center today. Besides, he wasn’t sure he wanted to see P.J. until he had a good story for her. “What else do I need to catch up on here? I can give you a few more hours.”

  Marti smiled. “Well, since you asked…”

  “P.J., you’re not going to believe this!” Anna’s voice fairly quivered with excitement.

  P.J. wasn’t in the mood for gossip. She’d been working for hours, and she couldn’t make her inventory and her orders balance. No matter how many times she added her columns, she had more equipment in several categories than she was supposed to have. And in two other categories, she had less than she should. “What?” she said impatiently.

  “I don’t want to tell you over the phone. Come to the mail room and I’ll show you.”

  “Anna, I’m up to my eyeballs in—”

  “P.J., I’m telling you, you want to see this.” She lowered her voice. “It’s about Alex.”

  “Alex? You mean Alex who works here?”

  “What other Alex is there?” Anna said dryly. “Now get your butt over here. Hurry. You’re going to die when you see this.”

  Five minutes later, P.J. entered the busy mailing center and headed straight for Anna’s office, which was in the far corner. Anna sat behind her desk and when she spied P.J., she beckoned her in.

  “Close the door,” she said. Her dark eyes sparkled with excitement.

  “This had better be good,” P.J. said.

  “C’mere.” Anna had an open magazine on her desk.

  P.J. walked around to stand next to Anna. The magazine was one of those celebrity rags Anna was so fond of. P.J. started to say something derogatory when she saw what Anna was pointing to. It was a photo in a section called VIPs. P.J. looked closer, then snatched up the magazine. She stared at the photo. It showed a beautiful, dark-haired young girl in a yellow dress seated across from a slightly older man who was a dead ringer for Alex. They were obviously in a restaurant, leaning toward each other intimately and talking.

  P.J. swallowed. The caption under the photo read:

  Julie Fitzpatrick, who is usually part of the Seattle club scene, shown on a recent Sunday enjoying a quiet brunch with her half-brother, Alex Hunt, son of Harrison Hunt, billionaire founder of HuntCom.

  Alex Hunt!

  P.J.’s heart pounded in her ears. She kept staring at the photo. She couldn’t believe it. Alex. Her Alex was really Alex Hunt.

  “P.J.?”

  P.J. blinked. She’d almost forgotten Anna was there.

  “Can you believe it?” Anna said. “You were right all the time. You thought he didn’t belong here. What do you think he’s doing here, anyway?”

  “Can I have this magazine?” P.J. said. “Or at least this page?”

  Anna frowned. “Um…sure.”

  P.J.’s hands trembled as she tore the page from the magazine. She was so angry and so upset, she wasn’t sure she could talk to Anna. Thank God she’d never told Anna that she was seeing Alex. She almost had, one day, but had changed her mind at the last minute. It had been the only rational decision she’d ever made concerning Alex.

  Oh, God. Hunt. He’s a Hunt. Harrison Hunt’s son. No wonder he didn’t want to talk about his family. He’s been lying to me the whole time I’ve known him. Everything about him is a lie. Everything he’s said. Everything he’s done.

  She couldn’t look at Anna, but she knew she had to say something. “Don’t tell anyone about this, okay? Let me deal with it first.”

  “Okay. What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I have to think about it.”

  Anna nodded. “I didn’t think you’d be so upset.”

  P.J. knew she needed to get a grip. Anna was suspicious now, and that’s the last thing P.J. wanted. “I just don’t like being lied to. He was probably sent here to spy on us.”

  “You think?”

  “Why else?”

  “But we do a great job here. That just doesn’t make sense.”

  “Look,” P.J. said, “I’ve got to get back to my desk. Remember. Don’t say anything about this.”

  “I won’t.”

  P.J. knew Anna was probably frowning as she watched P.J. leave and head back to the floor. But right then, P.J. didn’t care what Anna thought. All she could think about was what a fool she’d been. Oh, God, she thought, remembering the way she’d offered absolutely no resistance to Alex. She’d been like putty in his hands. And all the time, he’d just been toying with her. Amusing himself while putting in his time as some kind of spy for his father.

  She thought about how concerned she’d been whe
n she got his message this morning. How she’d even considered covering for him because he was right; he hadn’t worked there long enough to have a personal day. Oh! How could she have been so stupid?

  And to think she’d even been going to tell him about her medical problems, feeling it was unfair to keep seeing him without letting him know she was damaged goods. Tears stung her eyes, and that made her madder still. She never cried! Crying was weak, and she wasn’t weak.

  By the time she reached her desk, she had managed to get herself under some kind of control, because she needed to think. She was suddenly very glad Alex wasn’t there today, because when she confronted him, she wanted to be calm and prepared.

  “P.J.”

  She jumped. Chick, her assistant, stood there frowning down at her. “Yes, Chick?”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” she snapped.

  “I don’t know. I just thought—”

  She almost said, Don’t think. In the nick of time, she stopped herself and said instead, “I’m fine. Did you need something?”

  He shook his head and backed away. “No, no. I just wanted to see—” This time he broke off. “Never mind. I’m going back to work.”

  “Good. See if you can have the weekly report on my desk by…” She made a show of looking at her watch. “Two o’clock.”

  Chick saluted. “Your wish is my command.”

  P.J. was ashamed of herself. She hadn’t been very nice to Chick, and aside from Rick, he was her most valuable employee. This, too, could be laid at Alex Noble/Hunt’s door, she thought bitterly.

  For the rest of the afternoon, she didn’t even try to work. She knew it would be a lost cause. Instead, she looked up everything she could find about Alex Hunt on the Internet. The more she learned, the more confused she became. He was nothing like what she would have imagined a son of Harrison Hunt to be. He wasn’t a playboy. He didn’t do the party circuit. He didn’t constantly have some gorgeous model or actress on his arm. And he didn’t throw his money around. According to a profile the Seattle paper had done on him several years ago, Alex Hunt lived quietly and worked hard. He’d headed the Hunt Foundation for ten years, and according to all reports, it was his passion.

  In an article about one of the charities supported by the Hunt Foundation, there was the text of a speech he’d given at the charity’s annual fund-raiser. P.J. found herself nodding as she read what he’d said. She agreed with every word.

  At the end of the day, she didn’t know what to think. Everything she’d learned about Alex indicated he held the same beliefs she held. That he was a man she could admire and respect.

  But if that was true, why was he working at the distribution center? Why had he lied?

  None of it made sense.

  And none of it changed the fact that P.J. felt like the biggest fool who had ever lived.

  While Alex was in Seattle, he had decided to take care of some things. He decided to stay in the city overnight and do the things he hadn’t been able to do from Jansen, like visit his bank, touch base with a couple of his pet charities, and take Georgie to dinner.

  He’d put off calling P.J. but once he was back in his Seattle apartment, he knew he couldn’t stall any longer. So at ten o’clock, he placed the call.

  The phone at the other end rang four times. Then it revolved to voice mail. “This is P.J.,” the message began. “Can’t take your call right now. At the tone, leave a message.”

  Alex frowned. Where was she? he wondered. “Hey, P.J., it’s me, Alex. I’m on my way back to Jansen, but I probably won’t get there until late. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Since he would have to leave the city by five-thirty to insure getting to the distribution center on time tomorrow, Alex decided to call it a night.

  Thirty minutes later, he was sound asleep.

  P.J. stared at the phone.

  She didn’t pick up.

  She had no desire to talk to Alex tonight. Not on the phone. She wanted to face him when he lied to her. She wanted to see his face when she confronted him with what she knew about him.

  Right now, that was about the only satisfaction she was likely to have in this whole sorry affair.

  If only it didn’t hurt so much.

  If only she could just laugh this off.

  After all, as Courtney had pointed out, she wasn’t who she was pretending to be, either.

  But the situations were entirely different. She had never lied to Alex. Any question he’d ever asked her, she had answered truthfully, whereas he’d lied to her from the get-go.

  Well, never again.

  Never, never, never again.

  This time, P.J. had learned her lesson. She’d thought Alex was different. She’d even begun to imagine the possibility of a future with him. Even begun to think that maybe her medical problems wouldn’t matter to him. Even begun to admit to herself that she was falling in love with him and had harbored a secret hope that he felt the same way.

  Tears ran down her face as the truth sank in.

  Alex didn’t love her.

  And now he never would.

  Chapter Twelve

  P. J. arrived at the distribution center before seven. She knew she looked terrible, with dark circles under her eyes that no amount of makeup could disguise. She’d had a bad night, had tossed and turned and slept fitfully. And what little sleep she’d been able to manage had been filled with dark dreams where she was lost in some kind of horrible maze, and no matter what she did or which way she turned, she couldn’t find her way out.

  You didn’t have to be a psychiatrist or analyst to know the significance of that dream, she thought wryly.

  “You’re here early.”

  P.J. managed a smile for Terri Wayland, the night supervisor on the floor. “Yeah, I’ve got a few things hanging fire. Thought I’d get an early start.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “Thanks, no. But I appreciate the offer.”

  “Okay. Just holler if you need me.” Terri waved and walked away.

  P.J. headed for the kitchen, got herself a cup of coffee, then walked across to her office. After closing the door firmly, she booted her computer. Once it was finished loading programs, she opened Word and began composing a letter.

  At eight o’clock, as the day shift began coming in, she opened her office door and strode out onto the floor. A glance at the time cards showed that Alex had already clocked in. She was just about to look for him when she saw him walking toward her. As usual, he was dressed in jeans, work boots, and today—a chilly, late October day—a red plaid flannel shirt with a black T-shirt underneath. Unfortunately for her, he looked even more handsome and sexy than usual. He held a mug of coffee.

  “‘Morning,” he said, giving her one of his dimpled smiles. “I wanted to apologize for yester—”

  “Let’s go into my office,” she said, interrupting him. She didn’t return his smile.

  His smile slowly faded. She could see he was startled by her abrupt tone. Good. He obviously had no idea she was on to him. Not waiting to see if he was following her, she turned and marched off.

  By the time she reached her office, her hard-won calm had disappeared and she was seething. God, he must think she was stupid. Well, he’s right, isn’t he? Once they were both inside the office, she shut the door and gave him a hard-eyed stare.

  “P.J., what’s wrong? I know I shouldn’t have taken off without asking you first, but it couldn’t be—”

  Once more she interrupted him. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Alex. This is what’s wrong.” She grabbed the page she’d torn from the magazine, which was sitting on the edge of her desk, and thrust it at him.

  He frowned. “What’s this?”

  “Just read it.” She jabbed her finger at the offending photo. “That.”

  Her chest felt too tight and her head pounded from a killer headache that no amount of Advil had been able to banish. He finished reading and lowered the
page. His dark eyes, eyes that she loved—had loved, she corrected—met her gaze. Although she was trembling inside, she told herself she could do this. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to face something painful. Grit your teeth. Don’t let him see how much you’re hurting.

  “P.J.,” he said softly. “I can explain.”

  “Really?” she scoffed.

  “It…I know it looks bad, but there’s a reason for—”

  “For pretending to be someone you’re not? For lying to me?”

  “The only thing I lied about is my name…and my reason for being here. Everything else was the truth.”

  “Why the hell are you here, Alex? Was I right in the beginning? Were you sent here to spy on us?”

  “No.” He walked over and put his coffee on the desk. “Absolutely not. My reasons for being here are personal. They have nothing to do with the business or the job you’re doing here or anything remotely like that.”

  She glared at him. How could he continue to lie to her? And with such sincerity, too? If she didn’t know better, she’d absolutely believe him. Fury and heartbreak warred within as she fought to maintain control of emotions that threatened to erupt. “I can’t believe you are still lying to me. What possible personal reason could you have for leaving the Hunt Foundation, which is supposedly so important to you? Oh, yes,” she added, seeing the surprise on his face. “I read about you. I read all about you.”

  “I…” He seemed to be struggling with himself. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he said, “Look, P.J., can we sit down? I’ll explain everything.”

  P.J. wanted to say no. She wanted to tell him to get out of her office. But he was Alex Hunt, wasn’t he? He was the son of the owner of HuntCom and she was just an employee. She actually worked for him, not the other way around. “Fine,” she said. She walked behind her desk and sat in her swivel chair.

  Alex sat across from her.

  Why did he have to look so damned gorgeous? Obviously, he’d had a great night’s sleep. She certainly didn’t see any bags under his eyes. “Well?” she said coldly. “I’m waiting.”