Head Over Heels for the Boss (Donovan Brothers)

by Susan Meier

  She laughed and looked down at her hands.

  He took her chin and lifted her face until their gazes met. “My God, woman. You’re perfect. But we work together.”

  “Piper and Cade worked together.”

  “That was totally different. They were equals. They both owned half of O’Riley’s Market. We’re not partners; you work for me. If I were to make a pass at you, even if you welcomed it, we’d set ourselves up for a sexual harassment suit.”

  “You think I’d sue you?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m a lawyer, trained to consider even the appearance of impropriety.”

  “Even the appearance of impropriety? Don’t you think that’s taking things a bit too far?”

  “You know how this town is. Give them a gossip inch and they’ll take a mile. They’ll say I’m taking advantage of you because you work for me and depend on me for your livelihood.”

  “They don’t think I’m smart enough to say no, if I want to?”

  He gaped at her. “Why would they, when a scandal is more fun?”

  She frowned.

  “My family has been through enough of the gossip mill already. My dad was a miserable son of a bitch. But because we’d never talked about him hitting my mom or me and my brothers, when the news finally broke, no one believed us. Everybody thought we were out to ruin him to pave the way for my mom’s divorce. Even after he punched Finn in the park across from McDermott’s, people still took his side.”

  “It was awful.”

  “Yeah, it was.” He sucked in a breath. “It was especially hard on my mom.”

  “It’s nice she found someone.”

  Devon shook his head. “Right.”

  “You don’t like Bob?”

  “Let’s just say my mother was alone for decades. Then she inherits a share of a billion dollars, and suddenly she’s got a man hanging all over her.”

  “Bob’s not like that.”

  “Everybody’s like that when it comes to money.”

  “I’m not.”

  He sniffed a laugh. Mary Louise Stevens would probably deny it, too. Still, he didn’t push Isabelle.

  “Seriously, Devon, I think it’s kind of clear we’re interested in each other.”

  He shook his head. “But not in the same way. I don’t date; I have affairs. Is that what you want?”

  “No.”

  And that was all the answer he needed.

  Because the side of the fire hall was only a few yards away from the parking lot, he turned in the direction of his SUV. “I’ll see you on Monday. Can you get yourself back inside okay?”

  “That’s a silly question to ask a grown woman who’s been getting herself places for years.”

  “I was just trying to be polite.”

  She smiled that smile that did crazy things to his insides, and he wished he could change his mind, take her back into the fire hall, and dance. Kiss her senseless.

  The moment stretched out between them. His gaze flicked to her pink lips made soft and sweet looking by some shiny, glossy stuff women used to entice men. In this case, right now, it was really working. Because his chest hurt with the need to kiss her.

  When she said, “What will I tell your family?” he almost laughed. Which was another really cool thing about her. She could make him laugh.

  But he was her boss. And he wouldn’t set his family up for new gossip or threaten their inheritance with a sexual harassment suit, and he most certainly wouldn’t hurt a woman who was sweet and nice and deserved better.

  “Tell them that I’m tired.”

  And suddenly he was tired. Very tired. As the oldest Donovan brother, he’d always had to do the right thing. He’d protected his mother and his brothers. Now he was protecting their peace and quiet. Yet, he didn’t get a share of any of the good things they enjoyed.

  Chapter Six

  Isabelle went back into the wedding and found Barbara Beth. She didn’t make her friend ask. She simply said, “We failed. Mission is over. Is the bar making cosmos?”

  “What do you mean we failed?”

  “He took me outside to tell me there could be nothing between us.”

  Barbara Beth’s face fell. “He all but salivated over you while you were dancing.”

  “I know. I think that’s why he told me to back off.”

  BB shook her head. “Now we both need a drink.”

  The bar didn’t serve cosmos. In fact, Jimmy Johnson looked at her as if she’d grown a second head when she asked for one. Barbara Beth ordered a vodka and cranberry juice for both of them. But when she handed the little plastic cup to Isabelle, Isabelle took a quick breath.

  “You know what? I don’t want that. I’m going home. I gave it my best shot. Devon doesn’t want to get involved. He has good reason,” she said, her chest tightening, her whole body suddenly weary. “But I think I need a few hours at home, alone, to have it all sink in so I can be a normal person at work with him on Monday.”

  “Sure, sweetie,” Barbara Beth said sympathetically. “But I think you’re wrong about giving up. Look at tonight like the first round of a fourteen-round boxing match. So you didn’t have a KO tonight? Monday’s another day.”

  “No. Monday things go back to normal.”

  Whatever normal was between a woman who’d never worked for anybody but her dad and a guy so business-oriented he didn’t even want to risk the appearance of impropriety.

  At home, Isabelle slipped out of the shiny pink tank dress, washed the makeup off her face, took the flower out of her hair, and crawled into bed.

  She didn’t cry. She didn’t actually “love” Devon. She was only now getting to know him. If she looked at Barbara Beth’s plan for her, technically she had just been going after something she wanted. It was like when she tried to get into her MBA program. She hadn’t been accepted the first time, so she’d tried again.

  She sat up in bed. Was she telling herself she shouldn’t give up?

  Was Barbara Beth right? Had tonight just been round one of a game that could last as many as fourteen rounds?

  She woke Sunday morning confused, but before she could start thinking about Devon, her phone rang. Seeing her mom’s face pop on the screen, she answered quickly. “Hey, Mom!”

  “Hey, honey. How’s it going?”

  She wanted to admit to her mom that everything was confusing, that she missed her. She missed her dad. She wasn’t sure she was cut out to work for someone else. She’d made a fool of herself with Devon. But it all seemed too embarrassing to admit.

  So she said, “It’s great.”

  “Really? That’s good because your dad and I are miserable.”

  Isabelle laughed. “You’re miserable?”

  “We miss you. You’re our only child. In some ways you’re sort of our whole world. It’s weird to think we’re hardly going to see each other.”

  Isabelle’s heart tweaked a bit. But, once again, in fairness to her overworked mom who deserved a decent retirement, she said, “Mom, it’s been five days. Besides, it’s not like we haven’t done this before. We were apart for most of my four years of college.”

  “I know. But we always knew you were coming back and we were going to run the business together. Now, your dad and I are here and you’re there. And I feel like we broke up The Beatles.”

  She laughed at the antiquated reference. “You realize that means you’re calling the Donovans Yoko Ono.”

  “Sort of.”

  She laughed again. “You’ll be fine, Mom. You’ll adjust.”

  “Oh, we’re going to love it here. It’s being without you that we didn’t think through.”

  She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. She had felt a tad abandoned over the past five days. “We’ll all be fine.”

  Her mom sniffed. “I know.”

  “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, too.” She sucked in a breath. “It’s my golf shot. I’ve gotta go.”

  Isabelle disconnected the call feelin
g better. Her whole world hadn’t been turned upside down. Her parents hadn’t abandoned her. In their haste to get to paradise, her parents might have forgotten some things, but it had only taken a few days for them to realize they missed her. And she was allowed to admit she missed them. At least one corner of her life had righted.

  She made herself breakfast, read the local Sunday paper to see who got engaged, who got married, and who had a baby, and did some laundry. Calmed by her mom’s call, she thought about what had happened the night before and two facts stood out. First, Devon didn’t have to worry about a sexual harassment suit. She would not sue him. Period. Second, as for gossip? Piper and Cade had set the bar so high with Piper being the town’s runaway bride and Cade being the no-show groom that Isabelle sincerely doubted she and Devon could make even a ripple of the wave Cade and Piper had created in the gossip pool.

  Having negated all of Devon’s reasons for not wanting to have anything to do with her, on Monday morning Isabelle was ready for round two. So Devon hadn’t wanted her on Saturday night? Maybe he just needed some time to get used to the idea that she was interested. And hopefully, as more than a lover. At this point she wouldn’t force him to say he’d marry her, but that was what dating was for. To see if they were suited.

  She dressed in a short, flirty skirt Barbara Beth had lent to her. Black-and-white flowered and made of a loose, flowing material that swung when she walked, the thing was perfect with a little white tank top. Since her pink flower from Saturday night was still healthy, she fixed her hair the way Barbara Beth had, putting the flower above her ear. Then she scooped up her favorite necklace, silver with big shiny black beads, and put that on, too.

  After sliding into black sandals with three-inch heels, she peered at herself in the mirror and smiled. She really did have a “look.” It had just taken a haircut, some makeup, and some great clothes to pull it out of her. In fact, when she got home that night, she was going to shop online for more clothes like these. Great clothes of her own. So she could give back the things she’d borrowed from Ellie, Piper, and Barbara Beth.

  She clattered down the stairs of her apartment above Buzz Hanwell’s garage, the one she’d rented after Piper moved out when she married Cade, and headed for her Hyundai.

  Her stomach growled when she got to the intersection where she had to make the choice of turning right to go to the Donovan house or turning left toward the diner and breakfast—or, at least, coffee.

  Hunger won. She turned left, parked her car and walked into the diner.

  Pauly Montgomery whistled. “Wow, Izzy. What’s up with the skirt?”

  “It’s Barbara Beth’s,” she said, refusing to look at the goofy old man who hit on every woman he saw, if only because she knew he was harmless.

  “Well, it looks nice on you.”

  She sucked in a breath, praying the waitress would arrive.

  Seventy-year-old Katie Foster, a fixture at the diner since her teen years, walked out of the kitchen and over to the counter. “Hey, Izzy. You look great!”

  “Thanks. Could I get a cup of coffee to go?” Her stomach growled. “And one of those blueberry cake donuts?”

  “Sure thing.”

  As Katie poured coffee into a takeout cup, Isabelle strolled away from the counter. Trying not to be obvious about getting away from Pauly, she studied the pictures on the wall.

  “Well, well, it looks like our little Izzy is all grown up,” Charlene Simmons said to Alice Lenosky, who sat across from her.

  Oh, crap. Should she pretend not to have heard that? She had to. Ever since the truth came out about Charlene’s grandson not being Cade Donovan’s son, even though Lonnie Simmons had claimed he was for twelve years, Charlene had been the village idiot about gossip. It was as if she was trying to make her daughter look better by making others look bad.

  Blue-haired Alice Lenosky leaned forward across the booth. “You know she’s working for the Donovans now.”

  “No!”

  “Her parents sold their flower shop to Devon.”

  Charlene shook her head. “I heard that. That’s not news.”

  “Yeah, well, look at her. All hussied up. Her parents knew what they were doing.”

  Isabelle’s brow furrowed, as Charlene’s face scrunched in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “When her parents sold the shop, they put a condition in that Izzy wouldn’t have to run it.”

  Confused, Isabelle drew in a breath. That sounded as if her dad had asked that she be fired. Which made absolutely no sense.

  Charlene said, “So?”

  “So… Do you think she didn’t learn from Piper O’Riley? Her dad stipulated in the sales agreement that Isabelle was to get a good job in the Donovans’ new corporation. Which means she’s working directly with Devon, Mr. Handsome Rich and Single. Do you think she doesn’t have her sights set on him?”

  Charlene said, “What?” at the same time that Isabelle turned and said, “What?”

  “Oh, come on, Izzy!” Alice said, her lips puckering like an old prune. “Look at you. Who goes to work dressed like that?”

  Isabelle glanced down at her pretty skirt, her simple tank top, her beloved black beads. “Barbara Beth? It’s her skirt. Besides, who are you to talk? And what about your gossip partner? Who in their right mind believes blue is a natural color for hair?”

  Katie walked over with her donut and coffee. “Everybody calm down. Now that Izzy’s out of the flower shop, of course she’s wearing prettier clothes. Clothes a girl can’t wear when making flower arrangements all day.” She smiled at Isabelle. “That’ll be three-fifty.”

  Isabelle turned to the counter, set her coffee and donut down, and pulled out her wallet. As she handed Katie a five dollar bill, she said, “Keep the change. I appreciate the bail out.”

  Katie leaned forward conspiratorially. “Oh, sweetie, I just said that because Alice is an old bag. You go after Devon. The man is fine. I don’t blame you for changing your look for a shot at that. When the pool about you two gets going at Petie’s Pub, I’m putting my money on you.”

  Isabelle opened her mouth to say, “It’s not like that,” but she snapped it shut. It was exactly what everybody thought. She was dressing up in the hope that he’d notice her. Except she didn’t want his money, as other women might. She wanted him.

  “There’s a pool?”

  “Well, I haven’t been to Petie’s since the wedding on Saturday. But I’ll bet when I get there tonight, there’ll be a pool about whether or not you two will become an item. Everybody saw that skimpy pink dress you had on…and the way you two were dancing.” She sighed dreamily. “Makes me wish I were forty years younger.”

  Isabelle left the diner dumbstruck. True, small towns were gossip pits. Not because people were mean, more because they were bored. And she’d set herself up to be the very center of this mess. But nobody even considered that Devon had looked at her résumé and offered her a good job because she had an MBA. Nobody considered that she’d been working at Buds and Blossoms since she was eight, and running it for the past four years. Nobody even pondered the possibility that she might make an excellent employee for Donovan, Inc. They all jumped to the conclusion that she was a gold digger.

  Devon had been right. Getting involved would invite the wrong kind of attention on them. They shouldn’t do it.

  Except not to save his family’s reputation. To save hers. In one short dance, her reputation had gone to hell.

  She ate her donut and drank her coffee on the drive to the Donovan house, understanding dawning on her why Devon had built his house so far out of town. His family might not be the focus of Harmony Hills gossip this time, but for three long years their names had been on everybody’s lips, every day, about something. No wonder he wanted peace.

  She got out of her car and walked around the side of the huge house to the back door where she let herself in.

  “Is that you, Isabelle?”

  Devon.

  And
he’d called her Isabelle. He didn’t automatically say Izzy or fumble over Belle. He’d called her Isabelle. Her real name. Nobody ever called her by her real name.

  Twenty minutes ago, she might have swooned. But now, all sorts of distracting things ran through her head. She had an MBA, yet Charlene and Alice thought her parents had to finagle her a job? And not even so she could work…but to catch a man?

  The whole thing wasn’t merely preposterous; it was demeaning.

  Insulting.

  Infuriating.

  Devon walked into her office. “Are we okay?”

  She turned just in time to see his gaze skim her hot little tank top, favorite beads, and flared skirt.

  “Don’t,” she warned.

  His brow furrowed. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t look at me like that.” She sucked in a breath. She’d wanted him to look at her like that. But now it felt awkward, wrong. “I’m going to go ask your mother for a sweater.”

  She turned to race out of the room, but he grabbed her wrist. “Whoa, wait. What are you accusing me of?”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m saying we might have already given ‘the appearance of impropriety,’ and this situation sets us up for some really ugly gossip.”

  “I told you that on Saturday night.”

  “Yeah, well, this morning I got the full taste. Did you know Alice Lenosky thinks my parents arranged for me to work for you so I could snag you?”

  He laughed.

  “It’s not funny!”

  “I know. But the look on your face is priceless.”

  “Great.”

  “Come on now,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve weathered worse storms.”

  She shook her head. “No. You might have. But I haven’t. I’m the girl who studied hard and got her MBA, who is now being accused of only wanting a job so I could catch a man!” She shrugged out from beneath his hand. “I’m smart, damn it. And educated. I don’t need a man to prove my worth.”

  Devon said nothing. She straightened her shoulders. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going for that sweater and then I have prospectuses to read.”