The Boss and the Beauty

by Donna Clayton

  The white-hot fury evinced in her statement evidently shocked Kyle even more than her sudden appearance had, for his dark eyes went wide, his spine straightened and the frown creasing his forehead bit even deeper into his brow.

  “I am not,” she continued, “a piece of meat to be displayed in the butcher’s window. No matter how much pleasure that might give you.”

  Her anger grew more heated by the moment. Cindy knew she had to get out of the room or risk being the brunt of the office gossip for weeks to come. So without saying another word she turned around and marched herself across the room and out the door.

  Kyle stood just outside Cindy’s office door, staring down at the empty coffee mug he’d carried up with him from the break room. He wouldn’t be able to figure out women even if he was to live as old as Methuselah.

  Cindy’s anger had blindsided him but good. He’d never have guessed that his braggadocio words to Stan would stir her ire to the point that she’d actually turn into a small but deadly tornado.

  He shook his head, one corner of his mouth curling up. She’d been a little fireball, she had. Cute as could be with her anger all stirred up and blazing. He was sure that he could explain what he’d said, that he could make everything okay. It wasn’t like he’d meant to offend her. The pride he felt over simply having Cindy in his life had just gotten the best of him, that was all. And that pride had spilled out during a conversation with Stan. Surely he could make Cindy realize that.

  No, he’d never understand the opposite sex.... His grin widened. But he was sure having a damned good time trying.

  Kyle knocked and then pushed open the door.

  Cindy was standing behind her desk.

  Bypassing a greeting altogether, he said, “We need to talk.”

  She didn’t stop flipping through the papers she was sorting.

  “I said everything that was on my mind,” she told him. “I think it would be best if we just steered clear of one another for a while.”

  He still thought her anger was cute, but her request took him aback. “A while? What do you mean ‘for a while’?”

  “Oh, a day or two. A week. Maybe a lifetime.”

  She went to the file cabinet, jerked on the drawer handle, stuffed in a paper, then slammed shut the drawer.

  Maybe a lifetime?

  This wasn’t so cute anymore, he mused. What the hell had he done that was so wrong?

  “Cindy,” he began, “I obviously made you angry—”

  “You figured that out, did you?”

  “Whoa,” he said softly, trying hard to contain a situation that seemed bent on spiraling completely out of control. “Wait just a minute.”

  She stopped midway between her desk and the file cabinet, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her mouth a firm, straight line. Everything about her, even the air around her, felt closed off, out of reach. She simply stood there, staring at him.

  Finally his own anger was stirred by the frustration he felt at not being able to soothe away her irritation.

  “What did I say that was so awful?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he barreled ahead, full steam. “If it’s an apology you’re looking for, well then you’re out of luck. I refuse to ask forgiveness for simply speaking my mind to a friend. I would think that any woman would feel good about being bragged about by the man in her life.”

  But the logic seemed completely lost on her.

  “Kyle, I spent my whole life around men who did nothing but boast,” she said. “They strutted and swaggered around. All the while my mother simpered and cooed and batted her big, gorgeous eyes. It was disgusting. My mother was involved in at least a dozen so-called ‘loving relationships.’ And I want nothing to do with anything even remotely resembling them.”

  Before he could respond, she continued. “I want to spend my life with a man who loves me for who I am in here—”

  She poked at her chest, just above her heart.

  “And for who I am in here—”

  This time she poked at her temple.

  “My mother used her beautiful eyes and her curvy legs and her...her perfect boobs to get...things. My mother and I survived on her looks.”

  The grief in her green eyes made him want to take a small step backward, but he held his ground.

  “But I don’t have to do that,” she said. “I’ve got brains. I’ve got an education. I’ve got enough business sense so that I can survive without simpering and cooing.”

  At that moment, Kyle remembered all the photos in Cindy’s home, all the cropped pictures. Then the vague reference she’d made regarding her mother’s friends came back to him. Cindy had said that she wanted to be noticed for her intelligence. His mind churned. Why hadn’t he understood before? Finally the puzzle pieces started falling into place.

  “Honey, no one is asking you to simper and coo.” He tilted his head a fraction. “You’re preaching to the choir here. I work with you. I know you’re intelligent. I know all about your terrific business sense. I see it every single day.”

  But what he said evidently fell on deaf ears.

  “I don’t want my life to be filled with empty relationships,” she repeated in a rush. “I won’t be my mother. I won’t live her life. Going from man to man...just to...to survive.”

  Cindy’s disdain for her mother suddenly got under Kyle’s skin.

  “What makes you think your mother enjoyed how she lived?” he asked. “I don’t know your mom. I don’t know what kind of person she was. Or is. All I know is that I can’t imagine anyone enjoying the idea of living off other people.”

  “Men,” Cindy stressed. “My mother lives off wealthy men.”

  Once she grew silent, Kyle softly said, “Okay, wealthy men. I just can’t believe that’s something that she wants to do. Have you ever tried looking at her motivation? Have you ever tried to figure out why she’d choose to live her life the way she does?”

  “It’s something she’s always done. How she’s always gotten by.”

  Kyle heard a note of defensiveness in Cindy’s tone, and it clearly told him that she hadn’t never tried to see the situation from her mother’s point of view.

  “But why?” He spoke the question as tenderly as he could. Remembering what little she told him of her mom, he said, “Maybe she felt she had no other choice.” Then on a whim, he blurted out, “Maybe she did it for you.”

  “Me? What are you talking about? I had nothing to do with it. Nothing!”

  “Can you be sure? Have you ever asked her?”

  “No, I’ve never asked her. And I never will. Those kinds of questions would only embarrass us both.”

  “Or they could bring you back together.”

  She only glared at him, resentment glittering in her eyes. The feelings inside her regarding her childhood were intense, and they ran deep; he could clearly see that.

  Kyle understood in that moment that it wasn’t him or his boastful remarks she was angry with—it was her mother, and the residual bitterness she felt over the manner in which she’d been brought up.

  “You told me,” he said, “that your mother had a good family name, but no money. Maybe she found herself with a daughter to raise and no means with which to do it. Maybe she made her way the only way she knew how—”

  “She could have gotten a job!”

  “Maybe she had no skills. Maybe she had no self-confidence. Maybe she—”

  “Stop, Kyle! Just stop this right now.”

  Cindy’s face, her whole body, became rigid with agitation.

  He shook his head, determined to help her even though she thought she didn’t want his help. “Your mother was adamant that you got yourself an education. You told me that yourself.”

  “She sent me to college,” Cindy said, “because she said I wasn’t pretty enough to survive on my looks.”

  Quietly he pointed out another possibility. “Maybe it was because she didn’t want you to have to.”

  “I’m not listening to any mor
e of this.” Her voice was on the verge of being described as a shout. “How in the world did we start talking about my mother, anyway? This argument has nothing to do with her.”

  The tears he saw gathering in her green eyes just about broke his heart in two. He wanted so badly to make her see, to force her to understand that their quarrel had everything to do with her mother. Everything.

  “I’m angry because I heard you bantering about a bunch of meaningless trite about me. And I won’t have it. I won’t!”

  With that firm declaration made, she rushed from the room, leaving him all alone in her big, empty office.

  Chapter Ten

  “What in the world makes him think he can treat me that way?”

  When Cindy stormed out of Barrington’s New Products division, she hadn’t a clue where she was going and had been surprised when she’d found herself pushing through the glass doors of the legal department. Thank goodness the documents she’d inadvertently carried from her office needed to be sent to the legal staff anyway. Cindy guessed the papers had been on her mind and she’d subconsciously continued to work, even though she was fuming about Kyle, and that’s why she’d ended up unloading all her frustration on poor Olivia.

  Her friend had taken one look at her when she’d arrived, and had shoved her into the nearest conference room where they could talk without being overheard. Cindy then spent the next ten minutes practically chewing off Olivia’s ear with almost everything that had been said between herself and Kyle.

  “I mean,” Cindy continued, “he was talking about me like I was some kind of trophy or something.”

  “You said that already,” Olivia quietly pointed out.

  It was the first time her friend had spoken since they went into the conference room and the sound of someone’s voice other than her own made Cindy grow still.

  Realizing suddenly how upset she’d been, how she’d ranted and raved, Cindy murmured, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be burdening you with all of this.”

  “It’s okay,” Olivia assured her. “I’m your friend. I want you to come to me.”

  “Yes, but I shouldn’t act like I’m—”

  “It’s okay.” Olivia stressed her words with a gentle touch on Cindy’s forearm.

  The warmth of another human being, one who cared about her as much as Olivia obviously did, melted away some of Cindy’s anger. Her emotions felt like the sails of a huge sloop on a windless day—the massive fabric was still there, but they were no longer stretched taut and billowing. Cindy suddenly felt weary and she rubbed her fingertips across her forehead.

  “Listen to me,” Olivia said.

  The reservation in her friend’s voice wasn’t lost on Cindy. She was about to be told something she probably wouldn’t want to hear. Cindy lifted her chin to look Olivia in the eye.

  “I’m not so sure that Kyle did anything so terrible.”

  “What?” Cindy’s gaze widened with disbelief. “How can you say that? Didn’t you hear me say he talked about me like I was a piece of prime rib? Didn’t you hear me when I explained why I couldn’t allow myself to be treated that way?”

  “I did.” Olivia kept her tone calm. “And I do understand why your childhood memories are bad ones for you. But you can’t lump Kyle and his comments in the same barrel with the men you grew up around. Because there’s a distinct difference.”

  Cindy’s raised brows were a silent request for her friend to continue.

  “You said it yourself,” Olivia said. “Those men your mother was with didn’t mean anything they said. And you knew that because your mother never stayed with any one of them for long. Even as a child, you were astute enough to come to the conclusion that those compliments were empty. But like I said, there’s a difference with Kyle.”

  Her friend’s caring gaze grew even more serious.

  “Kyle cares.” Olivia pressed her lips together, tucking back a strand of her long auburn hair as she evidently waited for Cindy to respond.

  “How can I know that?” Desperation and frustration welled up inside Cindy. “How can any woman know that a man is being sincere?”

  After a moment, Olivia shrugged. “No woman can know it. She’s got to feel it.”

  Cindy grew so weak in the knees that she eased herself down into one of the large padded chairs surrounding the big rectangular table. Olivia immediately pulled out a chair, sat down next to her and took her hand.

  “Do you have any idea,” Olivia continued, “how much I’d love to hear...to hear a man talk about me the way Kyle was talking about you?”

  Stanley Whitcomb, Olivia’s boss, was on her friend’s mind, Cindy was sure.

  Olivia continued. “Me and Molly. Rachel. Sophia. Patricia. Every single one of us want to be exactly where you are. We want to have the man we love extolling our virtues. Crowing about how they feel about us.”

  Had that been what Kyle had been doing? Cindy wondered. Had she been too sensitive about his bragging remarks? Had she blown his comments out of proportion?

  Her childhood memories had crowded in on her, had made her react first and think later. Much later.

  Olivia was right. No woman could ever truly know if her man was being honest and sincere. But the same went for men, didn’t it?

  Kyle wasn’t at all like the men in her mother’s life. Cindy knew it. She felt it. She always had. That’s why she’d been drawn to him from the first.

  And what about her mother’s life-style? Could it be possible that Kyle had been right? That her mother had lived the way she did—not because she liked it—but because she knew no other way to survive?

  Could Kyle also have been right about why her mother had urged her to get herself educated? So she could be independent and self-reliant?

  One thing was certain, Kyle had made her rethink her opinions regarding her mother. She’d always been so bitter and close-minded about her past. Maybe she should give her mother a call...open up the lines of communication. Who knew what might come of it?

  The more Cindy mulled everything over, the more she saw just how different Kyle was from any other man she’d ever met. He’d touched her life in ways no one else had, not even her girlfrieads here at Barrington. Yes, Kyle had made an awesome impact in her life. He was different, yet she and he had something very much in common.

  With what he’d gone through in his past, Kyle was just as distrusting of the opposite sex as she. Even more so. Cindy had known that for a while now. But that knowledge hadn’t kept her from responding so angrily when she’d overheard Kyle talking about her. Slipping her bottom lip between her teeth, she realized that her deep love for him caused her to act irrationally. Time and again.

  Feeling her eyes tearing, Cindy whispered, “Olivia, I love him so very much.”

  “I know you do. Maybe now’s the time to tell him.”

  Cindy’s exhalation was full of self-disgust. “I can’t tell him now. I’ve ruined everything.”

  Olivia squeezed her fingers in commiseration. “Maybe you haven’t.”

  Lowering her eyelids, Cindy groaned. “Even if blowing up at him in the break room in front of Stanley wasn’t bad enough,” she said, “there’s still the matter of that stupid lie I told him about Mike.”

  “We told him,” Olivia reminded her.

  Cindy only sighed. In an effort to be discreet, she had held back the information regarding Kyle’s past experience with that awful woman named Monica, so Olivia wouldn’t understand that sharing the blame would never soften the blow when Cindy’s manipulative behavior was finally revealed.

  Evidently trying to bolster her friend’s spirits, Olivia said, “Besides, you said that when Kyle was talking about you to Stanley, that his voice was full of pride. Maybe he hasn’t said he loves you, but his feelings for you must run deep.”

  Despite her solemn mood, a humorous grin broke out on Cindy’s mouth. “I think the words I used were ‘his voice was full of cockiness.’”

  Olivia chuckled softly. “Pride. Cockiness. Whe
n it comes to a man’s emotions, don’t they mean just about the same thing?”

  They shared a poignant smile.

  Then all at once, Olivia’s face seemed to turn a sickly shade of green. She closed her eyes and placed the flat of her hand on her stomach.

  “You’re still sick,” Cindy observed.

  Olivia only nodded. “I’m okay. It’ll pass quickly. It always does.”

  “You need to see the doctor. This bug has gone on for far too long.”

  Cindy had suspected for a couple of weeks now that this “bug” her friend suffered from wasn’t the flu at all. That it was something much more life altering. But she couldn’t force Olivia to confide in her. She could only be there if the need to talk ever arose in her friend as it had for her today.

  “I’ll go see my doctor,” Olivia said.

  “Soon?”

  Her friend gave her a nod of promise.

  “But right now,” Olivia said, “you need to go find Kyle. Talk to him. Spill your guts. Tell him exactly how you feel.”

  Cindy shook her head miserably. “Talking won’t help.”

  Tugging on her arm, Olivia pulled her toward the door. “Talking always helps.”

  “Not this time,” was all Cindy said.

  The elevator door whooshed open and Cindy stepped out onto the fourth floor. She needed a few minutes to think. To plan. Her office would offer a quiet haven in which to gather her thoughts before she approached Kyle with everything she had to tell him. She only hoped she could get to her office and shut the door quietly without running into Kyle in the hallway.

  When she slipped past his office, she was pleased to see his door was shut. Turning the knob of her own office door, she pushed it open, feeling immensely relieved that she’d have some time to contemplate just how she’d—

  “You’re back.”

  The sound of Kyle’s voice made her nearly jump out of her skin. Evidently he saw that he’d startled her.