by Carly Carson
Amanda slumped in her seat. "The job fell through."
"Oh, dear," her mother said, her voice wavering for a minute. Then she took a deep breath – Amanda could hear it clearly – and said, "Don't worry, dear. We'll figure something else out."
Amanda almost broke down in the cab. Her mother had been so thrilled with the news of Amanda's new job and the insurance benefit.
"I just couldn't do it, Mom. There had been a mistake."
"What kind of a mistake?" That was the voice of a mother who'd run into any breach to save her child.
"He mixed me up with another candidate."
"What happened to the job you thought you were getting?"
"I…I'm not sure, Mom." She couldn't lie to her mother. It just wasn't possible.
"Amandaaaaa." She dragged out her name in the way that always said, I'm waiting.
"Apparently, he had two openings. One was the position I thought I was interviewing for. The other was for a…a playmate."
"Playmate? Is he two?"
Perversely, Amanda wanted to jump to his defense. "No, he's a grown man, mom."
"So what happened to the other job?"
"I'm not sure yet. I might still be able to get it."
"I don't want you accepting any job from him, Amanda," her mother stated. "He doesn't sound like a respectable man."
"Oh, mom." She sighed again as the car approached the airport. With her mom out of work now, Amanda's options were limited. Someone had to bring in a salary and benefits. Her mom had been working part-time at a medical office, until the entire focus of her life had shifted to helping Julie beat her medical diagnosis. Her mother had been determined to travel to Denver, where Julie was going to complete a six month course of treatment at the National Jewish Hospital for her lung disease.
Someone had to be with Julie, to deal with the doctors and all the medical issues. Even more importantly, someone needed to be there to provide company and comfort.
Amanda hefted her bag as she exited the car. It suddenly felt very heavy. Because she had to face the facts. She had no choice but to try to get Logan's job on whatever terms he dictated.
Chapter 5
Logan strode into the office building with an excitement he hadn't felt in a long time. He had a war to wage. A pleasant war, but one which would require his best strategic thinking and canniest tactics. Though he didn't doubt the outcome, he was fairly certain that Amanda Thompson would give him a good fight.
He noticed his first problem as soon as he entered the outer office of his suite. The strangely dressed temp who'd made the original mistake with Amanda's interview was still sitting at his assistant's desk.
"What are you doing here," he asked. "Where's Ms. Lockwood?" His regular assistant was supposed to return the Monday after he left for London more than a week ago.
"Good morning," the girl chirped. "Bridget is still out."
"What the hell—Why?" The thought of all the problems that would have developed in the absence of both Ms. Lockwood and himself was enough to halt him in his tracks.
"I think she's still in the hospital." The woman—what the hell was her name—wriggled in her seat like a two-year-old.
"You think?" He clamped his teeth together to prevent the words he wanted to say from escaping. He hired people who knew what they were supposed to know. "Why wasn't I notified?"
A frown of anxiety appeared on her round face. "You were in London."
He plucked his Blackberry out of its holder. "You see this? It communicates all over the world. That's why I have it."
"I know that, sir." She looked down at the desk, and even her two ponytails looked more dejected than they had when he walked in. "But what would be the point of telling you she wasn't here when you weren't here either?"
"Heaven help me," he muttered. "Look." He leaned over the desk. "I need to know everything that happens in this office and in this company. Do you understand?"
She nodded, her big blue eyes fastened on his face as if she were afraid he'd bite if she broke the connection.
"Pick up a pen," he ordered. "Start writing."
He straightened up from her desk and strode toward the window. "Call the hospital and find out what's happening with Ms. Lockwood. I want to know where she is, what her condition is, and when she'll be back."
He stopped at the window and thrust his hands in his pockets as he looked out. Central Park greeted him, dark and bare in its winter nakedness. He could see cars like little ants scurrying along the curved roads.
"Send a large floral arrangement to her wherever she is," he said, still looking out the window. "Next, tell me what's happened with Ms. Thompson." He turned suddenly, spearing the assistant with a glare. "Unless you have a message from her?"
Biting her bottom lip, she shook her head.
"You did send her the job offer I forwarded to Ms. Lockwood?" Damnit. He relied totally on Ms. Lockwood. If he told her to do something, he assumed it was done. Of course, he hadn't heard from her at all, now that he thought about it. He'd been so busy getting the deal wrapped up with QDT.
"Ummm…" The assistant began rifling through some papers on her desk. "Yes, I'm sure I did."
A feeling of doom settled over Logan. Guilt, guilt and more guilt was plastered across the woman's face. "I sent it via email," he said. "Can you show me the forwarded message?"
She hit a bunch of numbers on the keyboard, but even he could see the randomness of her efforts.
He leaned over the desk to read the monitor. A long list of unread messages greeted him.
"What are you doing?" She put a hand up as if to hide the monitor.
"You can't read? What the hell are you doing working in an office?"
"I can read," she said. "Just not when I'm nervous."
He saw his message about Amanda. Unread. Unforwarded. Amanda had been waiting to hear from him for more than a week.
Fury blazed through him.
"I make people nervous!" he roared, slamming his hand on the desk. "You can't work for me if being nervous prevents you from performing your job."
She lifted her chin. "That's nothing to be proud of." Her words were defiant, but her voice trembled.
"You've made a serious mistake," he yelled. "I want you to forward this message while I watch. Ask the recipient to be here tomorrow at 10 a.m. to meet with me."
She lifted a shaking hand.
Logan grabbed hold of his temper. What was wrong with him? He never yelled at people. Partly because he didn't have to. Partly because he didn't think it was right to yell at someone who was dependent on him for her living. The power imbalance shouldn't be abused.
All he could think of right now was Amanda and her big brown eyes, brimming with anxiety as she talked about her need for insurance. Damn. He didn't want to worry about her sister. He'd given up those kinds of emotions a long time ago.
"I'm sorry," he said curtly. He leaned over her desk and began typing on her keyboard. He hit send.
Then he straightened up and regarded his hapless assistant. "Look, I need someone I can depend on. I'm sure there's another job in the company more suited to your talents."
Whatever they were. He looked over her costume of the day. The two ponytails dangling over her ears looked kind of girlish. But heavy metal jewelry dangled from her earlobes and wrapped around her neck in a way that looked like she'd dressed this morning in a junkyard. He couldn't imagine why HR had hired her in the first place, never mind sent her to his office.
She looked up at him through heavily made up eyes and curly bangs. "They don't want me in other departments," she said sadly. "I'm too different."
"Perhaps the corporate world is not the best milieu for you." He waved a hand vaguely at her to indicate her attire.
"It's not." She heaved up a big sigh. "But I need an income."
"This can't be your dream job."
"Of course not!" She looked shocked at the mere suggestion. "I'm a fashion designer."
"Ah." He didn't
even know what to say. Would people pay good money to look like she did?
"Perhaps this isn't your taste." She waved at the junk. "But I have to be noticeable."
"You are that," he admitted.
"I thought you would understand! Bridget said you were nice under your tough guy exterior."
Logan barely suppressed his surprise. Ms. Lockwood had said that? He couldn't imagine where she'd gotten such an idea.
Even she wouldn't know what to with this child who looked and sounded like a rebellious teenager. How could he? He bore down hard on the memory of his sister. He didn't walk down memory lane. Ever.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I need both competence and a certain dignity fronting my office."
"I shouldn't have repeated what Bridget said." She waved a be-ringed hand. "I actually meant that I thought you'd understand someone being different because of your sister."
His mouth dropped open and he stared in shock. No one mentioned his family. If they ever had, back when the tragedy occurred, they'd quickly learned the subject was a one-way ticket out the door.
She hurried into the breach of his silence. "You know, the rock star."
Logan turned on his heel and walked out. One call to HR and the woman would be gone. Obliterated from his life. No one could force him to remember.
Chapter 6
Tuesday morning, Logan strode off the elevator, alarmed at the scent of pines that assaulted him. An unwelcome memory of Christmases past rushed over him – tall trees gracing their enormous family room, Lauren and he hanging their ornaments with pride. Music was always present, as was the scent of cider steaming on the stove, and sugar cookies baking in the oven. Surrounding everything, always, was the love of their parents.
A love he wished he'd never known. Its loss was too painful.
He banished the memories with a sharp verbal attack.
"Rosie!" Damn it, why had Ms. Lockwood gone and developed complications from her surgery? Rosie had turned the outer office into an enchanted village on steroids.
Was that a Santa sleigh outside his office, piled high with colorful presents? And who on earth had brought in the live tree and festooned it with lights and gleaming ornaments, complete with an angel on top?
"Yes, sir." Rosie sprang out of her chair, the Santa's hat on her head bobbing like Old Nick's belly.
"What the hell is the meaning of this?" He waved an arm to encompass the tree, the glittery red garlands curving across the windows, and, most important of all, Rosie's outfit. Red and white striped stockings? Black biker boots? Some kind of green felt jacket?
"This is a professional office," he barked. "Have Martha Stewart's elves paid us a visit?"
"It's Christmas," she said, her blue eyes wide. "I always decorate."
"This is not your home. This is a place where I try to conduct serious business."
"There's no need to be boring."
"Boring?" He stopped halfway across the large room on his way to his office. "Did you say I'm boring?"
"No, sir." She bit her lip, dropping her eyelids to cover the mulish expression in her eyes. "I thought the office was a bit boring."
"Get rid of it." He turned and strode into his office before she could say another word.
His temper hadn't cooled when Amanda appeared five minutes later. At least she was prompt. But his approval vanished when he saw her outfit. Good Lord. She wore a green tweed skirt that fell below her knees, a square-cut wool jacket that would have hidden the charms of Scarlet Johannsen, and the ugliest brown pumps he'd ever seen.
"What is it with you women? I've got the elf–" He waved a hand toward the outer office. "And now the hausfrau. I don't know which one is worse."
"I see nothing wrong with either outfit." Amanda smoothed a hand down her skirt, and his temper rose another notch. He wanted to be the one stroking her thigh.
"Why is she dressed like a freaking elf, anyway?" The display out there made him uneasy. All those toys. Ms. Lockwood arranged all his charitable endeavors, which involved attending dinners and writing checks. Nothing up close and personal.
"From what I've seen of her, I think your assistant enjoys dressing creatively."
"I think you two should exchange outfits." Now there was a brilliant idea, if he said so himself. Rosie was a good six inches shorter than Amanda. Her silver skirt would be a mini mini on Amanda, they could skip the biker boots and the jacket, and then things would be interesting. His cock saluted the idea.
"I think we should discuss the job," she answered coolly. "That is why you ordered me to appear this morning, isn't it?"
"Yes, of course." He tried to redirect his brain to the business at hand. "I'm sorry that the job offer I transmitted was not forwarded by Rosie. I'm sure you'll forgive her inability to follow directions since she does dress creatively."
Her brows snapped together at his quip, but her tone was cool. "Thank you for the offer. Are the terms the same as we discussed last time I was here?" She held his gaze, her mouth tight and her eyes cold. "Minus, of course, the inappropriate personal relationship."
"It never would have been a relationship," he clarified. He always wanted to be clear on that.
"The. Pros.ti.tu.tion. Then." She snapped off each syllable. "Better?"
"Good thing for me most women aren't so uptight," he muttered, just loudly enough so she'd hear.
"Are we in agreement?" Her tone could ice the windows out there in the enchanted village. "No sex."
"As you wish," he answered. For now.
She gripped her briefcase as if she wanted to secure it, and bolt. Then she took a deep breath, clearly reaching for calmness, and nodded. "When would you like me to start?"
"Immediately. You can go to HR when you leave here. I added you to the payroll last week."
"You were so sure I'd take the job?"
"Let's just say I was sure you'd do the right thing for your sister." Despite her legal guardianship of her sister, there weren't many companies that would have agreed to her request. She'd be bound to snap up the one that did.
"You're right," she said coolly. "I'm glad you understand my motivation."
His gaze flew to her face, and he bit back the words he wanted to say. He could withdraw the offer at any time. But that was hardly the way to begin his seduction. He drew his own deep breath. "How is your sister, by the way?"
"She's moved to Denver. They're evaluating her at the hospital now."
He nodded. "Good. I'm sure she'll get excellent care there." He had no intention of getting drawn into a discussion of her sister's problems.
She opened her mouth and he could see the next words were forced out of her. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." He passed a folder across the desk. "I've arranged for us to travel to Philly on Thursday to look at this company."
She stiffened in her seat. "I'm not sharing a suite with you."
"There's a husband and wife team with a business focusing on nutrition for kids. Fun Meals. Healthy ingredients. Things like that." He paused, allowing her a moment to absorb what he was saying. "I thought you might be interested."
She frowned as she picked up the folder. "You're interested in the nutrition business?"
"Not for myself, no. It's a narrow segment. But when the business plan crossed my desk, I thought of you." With great pleasure. He knew an opening when it was handed to him. "Why don't you look it over and we can get more details on Thursday."
"You're diabolical," she said, standing up. "Fine. I'll go to Philly. But my previous comment stands."
He watched her swish out of the room, her backside as pert as her words.
Then he picked up the phone. "Letty." He barked into the handset. "What's the story with Ms. Lockwood?"
He pulled up his emails while listening to Letty's explanation of Ms. Lockwood's continued absence. When he heard she wouldn't be back before the New Year, he had to suppress an exclamation of annoyance.
"Okay, then how did I end up with this assistant who belo
ngs in a costume factory? Since Ms. Lockwood is out for a while, you need to find me someone else."
"Certainly, Logan. You don't wish to fire her, do you?"
"No." A lie. "You know my policy about retaining employees. But I can't have her here. She's got the outer office decorated like we're doing a Toy for Tots drive."
"Uh." Letty cleared her throat. "Actually, she has organized a gift drive. For older kids. In your name."
"In my name?" He focused on the only piece he could grab onto. "What the hell?"
"You'll have to ask her." Letty paused. "Or not. Since I'm going to reassign her." Another pause, ending with a sigh. "She's been everywhere at this point. I'll see what I can do."
"How did she end up working for me, anyway? You must know she wouldn't be able to handle my affairs."
"Ms. Lockwood specifically asked for this placement."
He laughed. "Ms. Lockwood is a robot. Why would she do a favor for Rosie?"
Letty sighed again. "Rosie is her niece."
"Shit." That put a different spin on the situation. Ms. Lockwood had served him faithfully since the day he opened his first office. She was hardworking, intelligent, discreet, and, most of all, loyal. She never asked for favors.
"Yeah." Letty drew his attention back to the conversation. "You see the problem."
"Fine. I'll try to deal with her. Damn. Shoot, sorry about all the cursing." He rubbed the back of his neck. "On another note, I just sent a new employee down to you that we discussed a couple weeks ago. Amanda Thompson."
"Ah, yes, your personal account." Letty was smart enough to keep any inflection out of her voice.
"Actually, I made a mistake." He couldn't let the office think Amanda was his mistress. "She's accepted a job as Director of Entrepreneurial Services."
"I see."
"Put her on the company payroll, but the insurance deal for her family is the same as we discussed last time."
"Got it. Logan, in case Rosie forgets to mention it, the company Christmas party is tonight."
Damn. He hated the office Christmas party. All that socializing. Women trying to flirt. Men and women angling for their next promotion. People getting drunk and hoping he'd do the same.
