Tempting the New Boss

by Angela Claire

“My parents are here?”

  “Yep.”

  No need for the confirmation, since her mom and dad were rushing through the lobby door, enveloping her in a hug so fierce she had to laugh. She could see Joey inside the hotel talking with one of her sisters, not sure at this distance which one, since they all resembled each other.

  “I’m okay,” she assured her parents. “I’m okay, you guys.”

  Through the phone she heard Marcia call out, “Let me talk to Mason.”

  He stood beside her, watching the affectionate familial display in sort of the same way he’d looked at the black bear, eyes wide, frozen, and she handed him the phone as her mother took her cheeks in hand, staring into her eyes. “Are you really fine? You’re not hurt? My God! When Miss White called, we were petrified.”

  Her father put his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head, teasing, “Don’t you ever put us through that again, young lady.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Despite the awkwardness of the situation, it was understandable they would show up. Marcia probably really had not been able to keep them away, and Camilla was glad, as ever, to see them. Some of the life-and-death patina of the last day had slipped away, but not so much that she didn’t remember how lucky she was to have survived, to have family like this.

  The pilots, easily identifiable by their uniforms, no matter how dirty, were ambling into the lobby, and her dad followed them, calling out, “Hang on there. Are you the two who landed that plane?”

  “Yes, sir,” Boyd said. Or maybe it was Ray. She’d lost track.

  Her dad clapped each of them on the back and shook their hands. “I just want to say you have a fan for life. Delivering our Cammy safely out of that storm. My God, words don’t even express how thankful her mother and I are.”

  The pilots accepted the thanks with more of the “just doing their jobs” talk and finally managed to extract themselves to move on to check in as they all entered the lobby. Her mom clutched Camilla as tightly as if they were both still on that plane and in the middle of a crash landing and led her to one of the leather sofas in front of a stone fireplace.

  Mason stood off to the side, hands in pockets, examining the lobby tile, not joining them, not checking in, though he was off the phone.

  Her dad went over to him. “And are you the boss, young man? Because I want to thank you, too, for getting us here and for taking care of our girl.”

  They shook hands as Camilla gently pulled away from her mother to get up and introduce Mason, but never got there. Joey and her sister, it was Brandy, came over with big hugs for her.

  “I thought we’d let Mom and Dad have a private moment with you first, but we’re so relieved, Camilla.” Brandy kissed her cheek as Joey hovered. “My God! What a story you’ll have to tell.”

  Not all of it unfortunately, at least not in front of her protective parents.

  “It was something,” she said. “And Joey! Aren’t you going to give me a hug?”

  “I was waiting, Cammy, because Brandy said we had to.”

  He held his arms wide to her, and she went into them, giving her tall, stocky brother the vigorous hug he always demanded, almost tearing up again at the sight of his sweet face, a grown man’s face that behind his black-rimmed glasses had the most beautiful wide eyes and underneath it all the most pure heart. The heart of a child. In some ways, most ways really, the mind of a child. Such a special child. A special man.

  “I was so worried, Cammy, because Mom said you were on a plane, and it got in a storm, and maybe you were scared, so we all wanted to come and give you hugs so you won’t be scared.”

  “I’m not scared anymore, Joey.”

  “Because we came?” he asked.

  She glanced over to where her parents appeared to be trying to make conversation with Mason, who was staring at her. Staring at Joey.

  “Yes.” She patted her brother on the shoulder. “And now you get to stay at a hotel!”

  Brandy took Joey’s hand and said, “Let’s go to that gift shop over there and get a cookie.”

  His face lit up, and Brandy led him away.

  Camilla hurried over to where her mother and father were in front of Mason. “Mom, Dad, looks like I missed the introductions, but this is Mason Talbot, my boss. Mason, my parents, Jack and Ann Anderson.”

  “We were just saying to Mr. Talbot what a good lawyer you are and how lucky he is to have you.”

  “Dad!”

  He laughed and hugged her shoulders tight, then loose as they faced Mason. “I’m just kidding, sweetie. We were asking Mr. Talbot if he arranges such an exciting first day for all his employees.”

  “And that would be a no,” she said with a smile. Like, a double and triple no.

  Mason said nothing, shifting his attention from Camilla to her mom only briefly, her dad even less, and then back again, catching Camilla’s eyes and swallowing hard. Suddenly, she was terrified at what he might say. As normal—and she hated to use the word—as he had seemed when he was alone with her, or after a while anyway, in front of her parents he appeared to be regressing to the way he was at the meeting in New York, apart despite being right beside them, shifting from foot to foot. Awkward.

  She sympathized with Mason. The Anderson family, even a small subset, could be overwhelming and probably even more so to somebody like Mason, who wasn’t used to any family it sounded like, let alone a family like hers, where humor and unquestionable acceptance and love were so much in the mix. And the Andersons had never been a picnic for boyfriends in any case, unless they became son-in-laws eventually. They’d never met a boss to her knowledge. And one who was a messy combination of the two… Well, that was a real worry.

  Mason opened his mouth and all that came out, low and hard to hear, was, “That was your brother?”

  Her parents stiffened and some of the sympathy she had been feeling for him dissipated.

  She waited for the insensitive comment that was sure to follow. Even guys who had the requisite ability to screen themselves often pissed her off with what they might say off-handedly about her exuberant, special little brother.

  And that was the kiss of death with her. One wrong word about Joey and a guy was gone as far as any of the Anderson sisters were concerned.

  Her parents didn’t take too kindly to it, either.

  “Yes, that was Joey,” her mom said, a slight tightening in her mouth.

  But Mason commented no further, merely watching Joey’s energetic enjoyment of an oversize chocolate chip cookie, the crumbs falling freely.

  Her mother turned to Camilla. “We were thinking of having Brandy just stay back with your brother, but we didn’t have the heart to lie to him, and he was as worried as we were.”

  “I’m glad he came, Mom. Though I’m sorry you guys had to go to so much trouble. I’m fine really.”

  Her dad kissed the top of her head again, and her mom captured her hand and squeezed it.

  Mason turned from watching Joey back to Camilla, not making eye contact with either of her parents. “Can I have a word?”

  “Sure. Of course. Excuse me for a minute, guys.” She hurried after Mason, who was already striding over to the fireplace.

  “Sorry about this,” she said quietly when she joined him. “I know they’re a little much, and you’re not used to—”

  He pulled her toward him, bending his head as if he was going to, ah, actually kiss her. In front of everybody, even though as far as her parents knew he was just her brand-new boss, and she wasn’t planning on explaining anything more to them right now, or to the pilots for that matter who were beside them, done checking in, card keys in hand, all of them watching. She jerked away.

  “Mason!”

  He dropped his hands, not even glancing at their audience, and ran them through his hair. “I wanted to talk to you, Camilla. Be alone with you.”

  “Not now, for goodness sake.”

  “Why not?”

  “Mason.” She sighed,
smiling over at her parents, who looked quickly away, pretending they weren’t watching the exchange with her boss. “It’s a family thing, okay? We’ll talk later,” she added, not sure how she felt about it, either. “And not a word about Joey, do you understand?”

  She turned away, barely hearing his soft, “Not really.”

  “Mason just wanted to talk about tomorrow,” she told her parents and the pilots when she went back to them, Mason a beat behind her.

  “Do you need anything from us at this point, sir?” one of them asked Mason. “Or should we reconvene in the morning?”

  “Morning’s fine,” Mason said shortly. “I don’t need you. Just Camilla.”

  She let that last part slide.

  The pilots nodded. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson.”

  “You, too, boys,” her father said. “Remember, fans for life!”

  They grinned and headed to the elevator.

  “I better go check in,” Mason mumbled.

  When he walked away, her mom’s brow furrowed. “I hope it really is okay we brought Joey, Cammy. We didn’t give a thought to the fact that your boss would be here. We were just so worried, but, well, we don’t want to embarrass you.”

  “Mom, don’t be ridiculous. Of course it’s okay you all came.” She kissed her cheek, still soft and unwrinkled despite her seventy years. Genetics. She glanced at Mason, who was behind one other person in line at the reception desk. At least he hadn’t tried to take cuts. “I’m finding out that my new boss is kind of, ah, well, odd sometimes. But nice,” she assured them. “Very nice.”

  Her dad frowned and kissed her hand. All this affection was even more than the amount usually poured on one of their daughters. That almost crashing in a plane thing again. She felt as cosseted as when she was five and fell out of their slow-moving station wagon, packed to the gills with Andersons. She had merited an ice cream cone and control of the TV remote for the whole night, even though it was her own fault for unbuckling her seat belt and not closing the car door properly.

  “He wasn’t saying something about Joey when he pulled you away, was he?” her dad demanded.

  “No! Of course not! No, that was about tomorrow, like I said. Plans for tomorrow and everything.”

  “Hmmph. It didn’t look—” He glanced at his wife, who shook her head slightly. “Never mind. Your career’s your own, Cammy. You worked hard enough for it. But I will say that I know you just started, but don’t you take any nonsense from a boss about anything, no matter how good the job. You’re too smart to—”

  “Daddy, don’t worry.” Her eyes started to tear again and she swiped them, laughing as he shook his head.

  “When Carly finally told me what a sweat shop that law firm you were at was, all I could think was you should have left years ago.” He glared at Mason. “And if this one’s no better, I say his loss. Not everybody goes to Harvard, honey.”

  “A lot of them on Wall Street do, Dad. Anyway, Mason’s fine.” If she decided to quit, she’d revise that opinion with her dad. Not that her parents ever tried to control any of their children’s career moves. If she wanted to quit a job, they’d be nothing but supportive.

  Loan companies weren’t so accommodating.

  “I better check in myself. What about you guys?”

  “We’re all set. Got here about a half hour ago,” her mom said. “That Miss White is so sweet. She insisted that Mr. Talbot wanted to pay for everything. And then that private jet. Ooh la la!”

  Mason probably didn’t even know he was paying for everything. And private jets had lost their allure for Camilla.

  “Okay, hang on, I’ll go check in, and then maybe we can go to an early dinner or something.”

  Mason was in the front of the line when she got there.

  At the check-in desk, the elderly clerk hustled to get the room key, since “Mr. Talbot’s assistant had taken care of all the checking-in arrangements.” Apologizing that the whole party couldn’t all be on the same corridor, he handed Mason the key just as her father appeared behind her, hugging her again.

  “And here’s your card key, Mr. Talbot, for the room for you and Miss Anderson. Our best suite on the executive VIP floor, one I like to call our Bridal Suite.”

  Her head whipped up to register her father’s shocked expression, his face frozen.

  Room? Room?

  “Do you need a second key?” the clerk asked politely as steam came out of her ears. My God, how could Mason have put them in one room without even asking her? Forget about the pilots finding out, or Marcia knowing, but her parents? Her parents!

  Chapter Seven

  “Room?” Camilla asked. “I think you mean the plural. Rooms. As in one for each of us.”

  “I’ll go see what Brandy and Joey are up to,” her dad mumbled, wandering off.

  The clerk looked uncomfortably between her and Mason. “I’m sorry. I thought Mr. Talbot’s assistant specified one room for the both of you. The best we had.”

  With the glare Talbot was giving the clerk now, she wouldn’t be surprised if he bought the whole hotel chain to fire the poor guy. He had probably instructed Marcia to tell the front desk to pretend there was only one room left or some other crap.

  Good old, straightforward Mason Talbot was learning a few new tricks to go with his otherwise clueless “Got sex?” approach to satisfying his biological urges. Nice to know her brief tenure as his in-house counsel had accomplished something.

  “I’d like a separate room,” she said to the clerk. “And if you plan on claiming there’s only one room left in the whole hotel, you can give me the key to it, and Mr. Talbot here can sleep on a chair in your lovely lounge there.”

  The clerk’s helpless panicked look at Mason almost made her feel sorry for him. But Mason said nothing.

  “No, we have another room of course. We have one hundred and twenty rooms in this hotel. Just not another, er, Bridal Suite. That’s the best room we’ve got. The others that are left are regular singles.”

  “I’ll take the Bridal Suite,” she decided immediately, resolving to have her parents see the room was just hers and explain the “confusion” before they went to dinner. “You can give Mr. Talbot a regular room.”

  He deserved it for assuming she would share a room with him now that they were back in civilization and for not making it clear once her parents showed up that he needed different arrangements. She wasn’t too happy with Marcia, either, if this was her doing. She at least should have known better.

  The clerk handed her the key and she added, “And let me hasten to inform you that I’m an attorney, and if you give the key to my room to anyone else without my express permission, I’ll sue the pants off you. Got it?”

  The clerk nodded. She had planned to either invite Mason to her room to talk or go to his, maybe even invite him to dinner with her family, but his incredible gall in arranging one room made her think better of it. It was probably safer for both of them now if she just talked to him in the morning anyway. They needed some distance from each other after the intensity of the last day.

  “Good night, Mr. Talbot,” she said, heading toward her parents. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Mason said nothing.

  Yep, everything back to nice and normal.

  The clerk stammered his apologies as Mason tuned him out. He was dialing Marcia.

  “How did it go?” she asked as she picked up.

  “Like shit. She stormed off to her own room.”

  “Mason! What did you say to her?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing? As in, actually nothing? None of the things you told me?”

  “No.”

  “Well, then of course she stormed out. I told you it was very important to talk to her and say everything you said you wanted to say and ask her if it was okay if you shared a room, since you’re traveling on business after all. Did you say any of it?”

  “We didn’t have a chance to even talk, since you didn’t
rent me a car—like you were supposed to.”

  “Mason.” He could hear the exaggerated patience in her voice. “That wouldn’t have been a very good idea even if there had been a rental place nearby. You trying to have a conversation, especially that conversation, while you were driving was a recipe for a five-car pile-up. Unless she was driving, I guess. But even then she probably would have insisted the four of you take the car, not just you and her.”

  “So instead we piled in some van thing, all four of us, and next thing I know we’re at the hotel, and you’re talking to her on the phone as we got out. When was I exactly supposed to talk to her?”

  “Before you got in the van. And definitely before the room clerk gave the two of you one room. Take her aside or something. How were her parents, by the way? They seem so sweet.”

  “Yeah, and thanks for the heads-up on that, by the way.”

  “I didn’t want you to panic.”

  “I didn’t,” he muttered. “But they’ve been all over her since we got here. Taking her aside didn’t exactly work.”

  “Come on. They’re her family. Her plane crash-landed. They’re going to want to reassure themselves she’s okay.”

  “Yeah, well, my plane crash-landed, too, and I was taking care of her just fine.”

  “Well, all I can say is without talking to Camilla beforehand, I can imagine she didn’t appreciate finding out in real time that we’d booked one room for the two of you.”

  “See, that’s the part I don’t get. We already slept together. More than once. A lot.”

  “Mason!” Now he could hear the exaggerated loss of patience in her voice. “Also, are you having this conversation in front of the desk clerk?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Then you shouldn’t be saying in front of him you already slept with her.”

  He glanced at the clerk, who was studiously eying his computer screen. “He’s not listening.”

  “He’s pretending not to listen.”

  “I called to find out what to do. Just get on with it,” he snapped, instigating a long silence on the other end, which with Marcia was never good.

  “You shouldn’t even be talking to me about this,” she finally said, “but I took pity on you, since you sounded, well, not like you.”