In fact, over the last few years, she’d come to enjoy this last half hour of the workday. It gave her a chance to relax with a man she both loved and liked. Of course, today there’d be no relaxing.
She felt as though every nerve in her body was strung tight and plugged into an electrical outlet.
He looked up as she entered and gave her a distracted smile. “Come on in, Rachel.”
She carried the cup of coffee to him and set it down on his desk. Tension arced between them with all the dazzling light and power of a lightning strike. She could almost hear the sizzle in the air.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine, Shane,” she said, lying through her teeth. But damned if she’d slink around the office. “And you?”
He reached for the coffee cup, but instead of picking it up, he trailed the tips of his long fingers over the curved handle. Rachel’s gaze locked on the movement, and in an instant, her body lit up as she remembered the feel of those fingers on her skin.
Okay, this was going to be a touch more difficult than she’d thought.
“Worried,” he said finally and she shifted her gaze to his.
“About…?”
He scowled at her. “About us, Rachel. About our working relationship.”
She felt a warm flush of embarrassment move through her and she could only hope it wasn’t blazing on her face. This was so not fair. She’d dreamed about Shane for over a year, had imagined what a night with him would be like. And now those dreams had become nightmares.
All she had left was her pride and she was going to cling to it with everything she had. “Our working relationship doesn’t have to change at all, Shane,” she said and hoped to heaven she sounded more sure than she felt.
“Is that right?” He stood up, pushed the edges of his suit jacket back and shoved both hands into his slacks pockets. “So, everything is normal.”
“That’s right.”
“Then why haven’t you ragged on me once about work?”
“Excuse me?”
“Normally you’d have come in here carrying that memo pad that’s practically stapled to your hand,” he pointed out. “And you’d be reading me the list of meetings to go to, warning me about which ones I couldn’t duck. Any other day, you’d be standing there telling me who to call, when to do it and what to say.”
Rachel sniffed, a little irritated that he knew her so well. But then, they were a team, weren’t they? A well-oiled machine. It wasn’t his fault that she’d fallen in love with him and changed everything. “I’m so very sorry. I had no idea I was that bossy.”
He pulled one hand free of his pockets and waved at her. “Bull. Of course you did.” He came around the edge of his desk and started toward her. But he stopped a few steps short, as if he couldn’t quite trust himself to get too close.
Oh, you’re dreaming girl, she told herself. It was probably more like he was afraid his too aggressive assistant would jump his bones again if he wandered too near.
God help her, he was probably right.
“But that’s why we’ve always worked together so well,” he was saying and Rachel shut down her brain and opened her ears. “You keep me focused on the job and I give you somebody to nag.”
“Very nice,” she muttered.
“And now it’s ruined,” he snapped.
“Maybe that’s for the best.”
“Like hell it is,” Shane said grimly. “How the hell can I get anything done when I can damn well feel the tension between us?”
Okay, she’d made up her mind earlier to be aloof. Distant. To do what she could to pretend that last night had never happened. But now that Shane had pried the lid off this particular can of worms, why should she try to jam the lid back on?
“You’re not the only one, you know. Forgive me,” she said, “for being just a little on edge. It’s not every day I have to face my boss after he’s seen me naked.”
Shane winced. “I could say the same.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, “but from my perspective, this is just a little bit harder.”
“How’s that?”
She laughed shortly and felt the sound scrape against her throat. “This is a cliché for God’s sake. Employers have been diddling with their secretaries/assistants for generations!”
“Diddling?”
“Don’t you dare smile at me,” she shot back. “Diddling is a perfectly good word.”
“You’re right,” he said and took one cautious step closer. “But don’t you lump me in with some sleazy guy who makes a habit of sleeping with his secretary.”
“Assistant.”
“Fine. Assistant.” He shoved one hand through his hair and Rachel remembered how soft his thick, dark brown hair was. How it felt streaming through her fingers. She swallowed hard.
“My point,” he continued, his voice hardly more than a growl, “is that what happened between us shouldn’t have happened at all.”
“Yes,” she said tightly, “I believe you covered that this morning with the whole ‘mistake’ thing.”
“Well, wasn’t it?”
Her hands at her sides, she curled her fingers into her palms and squeezed until she felt the indentation of every nail digging into her skin. Mistake? No doubt. Did she regret it? She certainly should. But she couldn’t honestly say she did.
She’d wanted him for so long how could she possibly regret having him? Even if it meant having to deal with the messy repercussions.
Watching his face, trying to read the maelstrom of emotion in his eyes, Rachel said, “Of course it was.”
Was that disappointment flashing across his eyes? If it was, it was gone almost immediately.
He nodded, blew out a breath and said quietly, “At least we agree on that.”
“Yay us.”
A half smile quirked the corner of his mouth then disappeared again. “The question is, can we work past it? Can we just forget about what happened and go back to the way things were?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly after a long, thoughtful pause. “I’d like to think so.”
A small thread of panic jolted through Shane as he watched her. He’d called their time together a mistake. But he didn’t regret it. How could he? He’d never experienced anything like what he’d found with Rachel.
He’d been thinking of nothing but her for hours. And now that she was standing there in front of him it took every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from grabbing her and kissing her until neither of them was able to think.
But that wouldn’t solve a damn thing. It would in fact, only make a weird situation even more uncomfortable.
“Rachel, I don’t want to lose what we have. Our friendship.”
“I think that ship has sailed, Shane.” Her mouth curved sadly.
“I don’t accept that.”
Her green eyes filled with tears and he held his breath, hoping to hell they wouldn’t fall. He was a dead man if she started crying. Nothing in this world could bring a man to his knees faster than a strong woman’s tears.
As if she heard his panicked thoughts, she blinked quickly, furiously, and kept her tears at bay.
“You have to, Shane,” she said, with a slow shake of her head. “If we hope to salvage this working relationship, we both have to accept the facts. We’re not friends. We’re not lovers. To be honest, I’m not sure what we are anymore.”
After work, Shane was too irritable to go home alone and not in a good enough mood to call a friend. That last conversation with Rachel kept rewinding and playing in his mind and he couldn’t quite seem to settle with it. Things were different between them now and he didn’t have a clue what to do about it.
It had been a long time since he’d let his groin do his thinking for him.
Now he remembered why.
If he hadn’t given in to his own desires the night before, everything in his world would be running great. He’d won the competition in the family, The Buzz was gaining strength every d
amn day and he’d finally realized that he was doing exactly what he should be doing.
He stepped out of the EPH building into a face full of wind-driven snow. Shrugging deeper into his overcoat, he squinted into the wind and glanced around. The sidewalks were crowded, as usual. Manhattan streets were never quiet. Cabs carried customers, buses belched along the street and a police squad car, lights flashing, siren whining, fought to get through the congestion.
He loved it.
Loved the noise, the hustle, the rush of life that pulsed in the city like a heartbeat. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, he fell into step with the crush of people instantly surrounding him. You had to keep up when walking these sidewalks. Move too slowly and the crowd would knock you down and kick your body to the curb, all without losing step.
Smiling to himself, he realized he was in the perfect frame of mind for walking in Manhattan.
He wasn’t sure where he was going, he just knew he didn’t want to go home. God knew there were plenty of women he could call for company, but that thought left him a lot colder than the melting snow sliding beneath his coat collar.
Hands in his pockets, he let his gaze drift while his mind raced. Strings of twinkling lights lined the front windows of the shops he passed, and the combined scents of hot chocolate, steaming coffee and hot dogs poured from a street vendor’s cart. He came to the end of the block and while he stood waiting for the light to change, he glanced in the front window of Hannigan’s.
A bar that was too upscale to be called a tavern, but too down to earth to be classified a club, Hannigan’s offered cold beers and friendly conversation. Sounded a hell of a lot better than going home alone.
Shane marched to the door, pulled it open and was slapped with a blast of warmth, coated with laughter and the jangling beat of Irish folk music. He shrugged out of his coat, hung it on the rack by the door, then made his way through the tangled maze of tables and chairs.
The hardwood floors were gleaming, a fire danced in the stone hearth on the far wall and behind the polished mahogany bar, a gigantic mirror reflected the faces of the patrons.
Shane pushed through the crowd, made his way to the bar and leaned both elbows on the shining top. When the bartender worked his way down to him, he said quickly, “Guinness.”
In a few minutes, the practiced barman was sliding over a perfectly built drink, with a thick layer of cream colored foam atop dark, rich beer. Shane picked up the glass, took a sip and turned to look at the crowded room. His gaze slid across a few familiar faces; after all, everyone who worked in the neighborhood ended up in here at one time or another.
At a booth in the back sat a man more familiar than the rest. Shane headed that way, deftly avoiding a waitress with a laden tray. He tapped on the tabletop, waited for his nephew to look up at him in welcome, then slid into the booth opposite him.
Gannon Elliott was a big man, with black hair, sharp green eyes, and in the last year or so, a ready smile. At thirty-three, Gannon was only five years younger than Shane. The two had grown up more like brothers, though Gannon was his nephew, the son of Michael, Shane’s oldest brother.
“Didn’t expect to see you in here, Gannon.”
The other man shrugged. “Erika wanted to do some Christmas shopping,” he said, sliding his half full glass of beer back and forth on the tabletop. “Hannigan’s sounded like a better idea to me.”
“Christmas shopping.” Shane slumped back against the red leather booth. “Haven’t started that yet.”
“My suggestion?” Gannon quipped, lifting his glass for a long drink. “Get married. Turns out women like shopping.”
Shane smiled, both at the ridiculous notion of getting married and at the change in his nephew. Only a year ago, Gannon would still have been at work, staying late into the night. More like his grandfather Patrick than any of Patrick’s kids were, Gannon had lived and breathed the family business.
Until Erika.
“What about you? Why are you sitting here having a drink with me?” Gannon took another swallow of his beer. “Why aren’t you out with that Hollywood girl…what’s her name, Amber or Brownie or something?”
Shane frowned, thinking about the woman he was supposed to have had dinner with the night before. He still couldn’t think of her damn name. But if he’d only met her as planned, none of that mess with Rachel would have happened and he wouldn’t now be sitting in the middle of a mess.
“What is that woman’s name?” he muttered. “Never mind. Anyway, I wasn’t in the mood.”
Gannon laughed. “You? Not in the mood for a gorgeous woman? You feeling all right?”
“Funny.” He took a sip of Guinness and savored the taste.
“Didn’t mean it to be funny,” Gannon said, studying him now through shrewd green eyes. “Something going on? You should be happy as hell. Heard you won the CEO position.”
Shane’s gaze snapped to him. “Who told?”
Someone at the bar laughed loudly and the music changed, drifting from a ballad in Gaelic to a jittering rhythm that even had Shane’s toes tapping in time.
“Hell,” Gannon laughed, “who doesn’t know? Everyone in the company pretty much had it figured out a few months back. When those third-quarter profit statements came in, it was clear no one was going to be able to catch you.”
Pride rippled through Shane, but it didn’t do a damn thing to ease the knot of something else tightening in his chest. “Thanks. It was a team effort, though. We all made it happen. Everyone at The Buzz worked their asses off.”
“Which begs the question again,” his nephew said. “You should be happier than hell right now. Why aren’t you?”
“Long story.”
“Do I look busy?”
Shane chuckled. “No, you don’t.” He nodded, paused for another sip of beer, then said, “Okay, but before we get into the sad, sad story of my life…How’s your mom doing?”
Gannon’s mother, Shane’s sister-in-law Karen, had been battling breast cancer for the last year. And after a double mastectomy and a debilitating round of chemotherapy, the family was hopeful that she’d beaten the cancer.
Gannon blew out a breath and smiled. “She’s doing good. Great, in fact.” He signaled the waitress by holding up his empty beer glass, then shifted his gaze back to Shane. “Dad’s at her side round the clock. It’s pretty amazing to see, really. They’ve…rediscovered each other, I guess you’d say. And even with the cancer threat hanging over us all, they’re so damn happy, it’s ridiculous.”
“I’m glad.”
“Yeah,” Gannon said wistfully, “me, too.” When the waitress brought him a refill and took away his empty glass, Gannon turned his gaze on Shane. “So, now that we’ve covered Mom, what’s going on with you?”
Shane really didn’t want to get into it with his nephew. But who the hell else would understand? Gannon and his wife, Erika, had started out working together—and had an affair. It had all blown up in their faces of course, but they’d finally found their way back to each other and now seemed happy as clams.
Whatever the hell that meant.
“Before I get into that,” he said, easing into an uncomfortable conversation, “when you and Erika first started your…”
“Affair?”
“Okay.” Shane nodded. “Was it hard to work together? Was it…clumsy? Awkward?”
Gannon scraped one hand across his face. “It wasn’t simple,” he finally said. “But we both knew what we were doing. We both chose to have the affair. Even though it ended badly.”
“So you didn’t have trouble working together once you’d had sex?”
“If you mean could I keep from imagining her naked, then no. But we managed. For a while.” He frowned to himself.
Shane knew what he was thinking about. Gannon was one of the most private men Shane had ever known. The idea of people gossiping about him was anathema to him. The minute talk had started up in the company about his affair with Erika, he’d called it off. Erika had
quit soon after and it hadn’t been easy for Gannon to talk her into coming back once the Elliott family competition had started last January.
It hadn’t been easy, but Gannon had finally realized just what Erika meant to him. And now they were married, and already a week overdue to become parents for the first time. “How’s Erika holding up?”
“She’s doing great,” Gannon admitted. “I’m the one who jumps every time she makes a sound. But the doctor said if she hasn’t delivered by next Monday, he’ll induce. Thank God.”
“That’s good. Good.” Shane nodded, then said under his breath, “I think I’ve done something really stupid.”
“Rachel?”
“Is that a good guess or is there already talk?”
“No talk.” Gannon took a drink. “It’s just that Fin used to tell me all the time about how perfect Rachel was for you only you were too dumb to see it.”
“Ah,” Shane mused, “good to be loved by your family.”
“Hey, we love you even when you’re stupid.”
“Small consolation.”
“So,” Gannon continued, “I’m guessing that things are not really rolling right along now that the situation with Rachel’s…changed.”
“You could say that.” He shook his head and stared up at the pierced tin ceiling. “Hell, Gannon, I don’t even know what to say to her anymore. I keep thinking about last night and—” He shut up fast, but it was pointless, since his nephew already understood exactly what Shane was feeling. Been there, done that.
“Don’t use me for a template, Shane,” Gannon said tightly. “I almost lost Erika, so I’m sure as hell not the one to give you advice.”
Shane took a long, deep drink of his beer, then set the glass down again carefully. “Yeah, but you loved Erika. Even when you were being an idiot, you loved her.”
“You don’t love Rachel?”
Love?
He’d never really thought about love. Always been too busy just having a good time. But in his bones, he knew damn well that Rachel was different. She wasn’t just another woman in a long string of unremarkable relationships.
Dynasties:The Elliots, Books 7-12 Page 77
