I Married the Boss!

by Laura Anthony

The only person she’d been thinking of was Mike. If she’d said Michael, it had been purely by accident. Their names were so similar, it was a natural mistake.

  He spun on his heels and stalked away from her.

  “Wait,” she cried. “How are you going to get home?”

  “Don’t worry about me, Sophia. I can take care of myself.”

  “Please, don’t go. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Mike threw a cold glare at her over his shoulder then flung open the door.

  What they saw startled them both.

  Rex Michael Barrington II stood in the hallway, an expression of surprise etched across his kindly features.

  Chapter Six

  “Mike.” Rex Barrington nodded at them. “Sophia.”

  “Mr.—Mr.—Barrington,” she stammered.

  Mike looked pale.

  “I heard noises,” Mr. Barrington said. “I didn’t realize you were here late, Sophia.”

  “Yes, sit.”

  Rex Barrington glanced at his watch and frowned. “That son of mine isn’t working you too hard, is he?”

  “No, sir.” She blushed, ashamed at having been caught. Alone with Mike. After hours. With her office door closed.

  Mike squirmed self-consciously and studied the floor. Sophia couldn’t blame him. As disheveled as they both appeared, it left tittle doubt what they had been up to.

  “You working late too, Mike?”

  Was it her imagination or was Mr. Barrington struggling hard not to grin? Did he find their situation amusing? That surprised her.

  “No, sir, I’m off the clock. Sophia was going to give me a lift home,” Mike explained.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and call it a day,” Rex suggested. “The work will still be here tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Have a good night.” He smiled.

  “Good night,” she and Mike mumbled in unison.

  “That,” Mike said, once Rex was out of hearing distance, “was a very close call.”

  “Too close for comfort.” Sophia exhaled loudly. Her hands trembled as she ran them through her hair, fighting desperately to smooth her errant curls. “Listen, Mike, about what happened earlier, I’m sorry I called you Michael.”

  He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “No, seriously, I apologize.”

  “You really want to make it up to me?” he asked, casting her a sideways glance.

  Sophia cleared her throat. “Er...what do you have in mind?”

  “Go with me to the company picnic next month.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not? Because Michael Barrington is going to be there?” His tone was sarcastic.

  “Where did you hear that Michael was going to be there?”

  “Office rumors.”

  Sophia stared at him, unconvinced. Could Mike have possibly eavesdropped on her conversation with Michael? The thought infuriated her. There was no doubt in her mind that he was jealous of Michael. She wouldn’t put it past him.

  “I’m going home,” she said, getting her purse from the bottom of her desk. “Good luck getting a ride.”

  With that, she turned and stalked out the door.

  Mike couldn’t sleep. His condo seemed claustrophobic, the walls closing in on him.

  His body was hot, fevered with the memory of Sophia’s kisses. He recalled the taste of her delicious breasts and moaned low in his throat. She’d felt so good in his arms. So right.

  Then why was he lying here empty-handed?

  She’d been angry at him, but Mike found her anger exciting. Anger meant she cared.

  He flopped over on his side and stared at the digital radio clock on the dresser. Ten-thirty. Had only four hours passed since he’d last seen Sophia? It felt like forty.

  Why did he care so much? After all, she had called him Michael. The name of his wealthy alter ego.

  No matter how much he turned her on. No matter how high their combined temperatures had climbed. No matter how much she had wanted him—simple Mike the mailman—Sophia had been unable to erase Michael Barrington from her mind.

  Why?

  She’d never met the man. She didn’t know how she would react to him in person. She had only interacted with her boss over the computer, over the phone, through the mail. How could she be in love with him?

  Fool. She’s in love with his money. His status. His power. That’s what Sophia wants. Not the love of a poor man.

  Love.

  The word echoed in his head creating a strange, aching sensation inside Mike’s chest.

  Was he in love with Sophia Shepherd?

  No. He shook his head, denying his feelings. How could he be in love with a woman who could not love him back? A woman who wanted only what he could provide. A woman who would ignore her instincts in favor of her cool calculating mind.

  It’s happened before.

  The memory floated to him out of the darkness and wrapped painfully around his heart.

  Erica.

  Blonde like Sophia and beautiful, too. But with a conniving heart of solid granite.

  He’d met her in his wild-boy phase, when he’d temporarily dropped out of college to spite Rex. He’d been traveling the country on his motorcycle, exploring his “bad” side. It had been an unforgettable adventure, one of the few times he hadn’t been judged for his money because he’d pretended to be poor. People accepted him for himself and for a little while he’d let his guard slip. Then he’d met Erica, accidentally running into her on the ski slopes in Park City, Utah. At least he’d thought their meeting had been accidental. He’d even joked about how fate had smiled on him that day, delivering such an angel into his arms. It was only later, after he had invested his emotions into Erica, that Mike had discovered that the fall she’d taken had been carefully orchestrated and timed to happen just as he skied by. Lady Luck had not brought them together. Erica had. His ruse had not fooled her. Somehow she had discovered he wasn’t really a wild-boy biker but was instead the son of a rich hotel magnate. And Erica wasn’t an angel, either, rather the opposite.

  He’d been young and dumb. He’d thought himself head over heels for Erica. They’d even planned their wedding. He’d told her who he was by then and she’d acted surprised but pleased. And then one day he’d overheard her on the phone talking to her mother. She’d been laughing and gloating over her good fortune to be marrying a millionaire. She’d belittled him. Calling him stupid and gullible.

  Even though it had happened sixteen years earlier, the betrayal still hurt. He rejected Erica and broke off their engagement. When his mother died, Erica came to the funeral on the arm of a famous billionaire twice her age. She’d shown up not to comfort Mike in his time of need, but to flaunt her new husband in his face. Mike hadn’t cared. He’d been so grief stricken over the loss of his mother. He’d simply felt sorry for the billionaire, who despite his money, obviously led a shallow life. Following his mother’s death, he had put the Harley in storage, mended fences with his father, went back to school and pitched himself into the business with a fevered vengeance. If money was what everyone valued, by God, he’d show them money.

  Mike gritted his teeth and shoved the memory to the back of his mind. Erica had taught him an important lesson about letting his heart lead his head. And for the most part, he’d learned his lesson well, always keeping himself above the messy fray of emotions.

  Until now.

  Until Sophia.

  She isn’t like Erica, his conscience prodded. She’s different. Sophia is warm and friendly. Kind and understanding. She’s honest and open with no hidden agenda.

  But she, like Erica, wanted to marry a rich man. Except Sophia hadn’t kept her motives a secret. She’d made it clear from the start that security was the most important thing in life. After seeing how she lived, Mike could understand her position.

  Give her a chance.

  But hadn’t he already? More than once. Sophia had turned down his invitation to the picnic b
ecause she knew Michael Barrington was going to be there and she didn’t dare risk having her boss believe that she had a boyfriend.

  Wasn’t that proof enough?

  No. Because for a few minutes tonight, when they were alone in her office, Sophia had completely forgotten about Michael Barrington. For a few minutes of pure bliss, she had belonged to Mike the mailman, mind, body and soul.

  She could not have faked her response to him. Her gorgeous body had come alive at his touch, opening like a flower bud to a gentle spring shower. She wanted him. Needed him. Lusted after him with a frightening intensity that had swept away caution. He’d tasted passion on her tongue, smelled heated desire on her skin.

  Mike groaned. He grew hard just thinking about her. So was he going to lay here all night, fighting sleep, or was he going to get up and do something about it?

  Frustration had him flinging back the covers and sinking his feet into the carpet. He had to shake Sophia from his head. Had to regain his perspective on this relationship and where it might be leading. He knew only one cure for emotional craziness.

  The Harley beckoned.

  He had to ride.

  “Rachel,” Sophia said into the phone. She lay on her stomach in the middle of her bed, clothed in pajamas. She rotated her legs in the air. It was after ten o’clock and Jannette had already gone to bed. “I desperately need another opinion on this situation. Olivia thinks I should give Mike a chance. My mother, of course, believes I should keep my sights fixed firmly on Michael Barrington. Cindy told me to forget them both and start living it up. I’m so confused!”

  “What does your heart tell you?” Rachel said simply.

  “I don’t know,” Sophia whispered. Rachel was such a centered person, with a calm inner strength Sophia admired. If Rachel couldn’t help her get a handle on this situation, no one could.

  “Then get quiet and listen.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Sophia protested.

  “Yes it is.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “Take a few deep breaths, relax, lay still.”

  “Yes?”

  “Think about what it is you really want,” Rachel coached.

  “Okay.”

  “Do it right now.”

  “All right.”

  “I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” her friend said. “You tell me how it worked out.”

  “Good night, Rachel. Thanks for listening.”

  “Anytime.”

  Sophia hung up the phone, then turned off the lamp. She lay spread eagle across the bedspread and took several long, slow deep breaths. Instantly Sophia felt herself relaxing as the concerns of the day began to dissipate and fall away.

  “Relax,” she chanted with each breath.

  Before she knew it, she was floating on an invisible cloud. She closed her eyes and in her mind she saw Mike. Her heart beat faster.

  He smiled at her.

  Who did she want? Mike with his ready grin, sexy body and fun personality or Michael with his good business sense, sensuous phone voice and practical nature?

  Listen to your heart.

  What did she want?

  It wasn’t money she craved, Sophia realized. Not really. Rather it was the fairy-tale ending of happily-ever-after that having money seemed to imply. She didn’t care if Mike was rich or not. That was not the point. What she wanted was a man she could count on. One that would not abandon her in her time of need the way her father had abandoned her mother. One who would not lie to her. As long as Mike could take responsibility and become a man, if he could stop running, stop playing at being Peter Pan and settle down, then he was the one she truly wanted.

  There was no denying her response to him.

  He stirred something deep and primordial within her. He was man. She was woman. She ached for the two of them to be joined.

  It felt right, but could she truly trust her feelings?

  “Sophia?”

  She heard her mother call out in the darkness. Sighing, Sophia opened her eyes and got off the bed without having found the answers she so desperately sought.

  “Yes, Mother?” Sophia padded into her mother’s bedroom, guided by the night-light. She found Jannette sitting up in bed, her hair in disarray. “Are you all right?”

  “I had a bad dream.”

  Sophia slipped between the covers, got in bed beside her mother and curled up next to her. “What about?”

  “I dreamed you left me.”

  “Mother, I’ll never leave you.”

  “You’re going to get married soon. I can feel it,” Jannette said, holding Sophia close. “I’m scared.”

  “Shhh. Even if I get married I’ll still be around.”

  “Will you?” Jannette sounded childlike.

  “Of course.”

  “What if you decided to run off with that mailman?”

  “Oh, Mother.”

  “You like him. I can tell.”

  “Yes,” Sophia admitted.

  “He’s no good for you,” Jannette whispered. “He’ll only get you into trouble. I know about lust. I know what can happen.”

  “Mom, we’ve had this discussion a million times.”

  “You were with him tonight, weren’t you?”

  Sophia was tempted to deny it, but she never lied to her mother. Jannette had always taught her that honesty was the best policy and that advice had never steered her wrong.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, no,” she gasped.

  “Relax, Mother. I can handle Mike.”

  Jannette clutched the tail of Sophia’s pajama top in her hand. “How can I relax? I want you to understand how important it is that you don’t let some bad boy ruin your life. I thought I loved your father. I thought he loved me. But it was just sex! For him at least. I rebelled against my parents because they told me I couldn’t date him. I thought I knew best. I was wrong.”

  “That was so long ago.”

  “Almost thirty years. But your father left me. And then I found out he was already married! He lied to me. Then he told me to have an abortion! Can you believe that? Later, when I heard he was killed in Vietnam, I didn’t even cry. My parents were so ashamed, they sent me away. How could I blame them? I had been such a silly little fool, following my heart, believing a man who lied to me.”

  “But things were different for you, Mother. You were only seventeen. You didn’t know any better.”

  “Maybe not. But I kept you and I raised you on my own. I worked two jobs to survive. I cut coupons, I traded baby-sitting services with my friends. I made do with little to nothing.”

  “And you did a wonderful job.” Sophia gently kissed her mother’s cheek. And she had. Despite her flaws, Jannette was a loving parent.

  The tragedy of her mother’s tale never failed to move Sophia. It was too sad. She’d been a young girl so blinded by love, she’d been unable to see Sophia’s father for what he really was. She’d followed her heart and had been terribly disappointed. But the truly sad part was that she’d never forgiven the man. She’d never gotten past the old hurt and anger. She refused to let herself care about any man, ever again. She’d allowed resentment to build inside her to the point where she developed high blood pressure. Jannette had never spent money on herself, had always put Sophia’s needs first. She did not go to the doctor even when the headaches had gotten progressively worse.

  And then, at age thirty-seven Jannette had suffered a stroke so severe, it had rendered her left arm and leg permanently affected.

  “Please, baby,” Jannette sobbed softly. “Please don’t let Mike fool you. You like him too much. I can see it in your face. It’s just the way I felt over your father.”

  Was it true? Was she that easy to read?

  “Shhh.” Sophia gathered her mother in her arms and gently rocked her back and forth like a child. “It’s all right. I’m always here for you, just like you were always there for me. Now go to sleep.”

  Several minutes passed. Jannette’s breathing dee
pened. Sophia slipped out from under the covers.

  She thought she heard a noise outside the house. Like the idling of a motorcycle engine.

  Curious, Sophia returned to her room, plucked her bathrobe from a corner post on the bed and went to the living room window. She raised the curtain and peered out.

  Moonlight bathed the street in a soft glow but it lay empty. No cars. No motorcycles.

  Sophia dropped the curtain and moved to unlatch the front door. She stepped out onto the front porch. A slight breeze blew. She cinched the belt of her robe tighter, inhaled the scent of lemons in the air.

  Crickets chirped from the cholla garden. Moths circled the street lamp, hungry for the flame. In the distance, a dog barked. Shu-Shu rubbed against her leg. Sophia picked up the cat, held her to her chest.

  An ugly reminder from her childhood flashed through Sophia’s mind, resurrecting an old hurt.

  She had been nine years old and in the fourth grade when the most popular girl in school, Alice Anne Aubrey, invited the whole class to her house for a birthday party. Sophia had been so happy and excited. Jannette had taken her to the dime store to buy a gift for Alice Anne. Sophia had insisted on a Barbie doll even though it was out of their budget. But she had wanted so badly to be Alice Anne’s friend that Jannette had conceded. They’d wrapped the doll in brightly colored paper and Jannette had dyed one of Sophia’s old dresses so it would look new for the party.

  For the first time in her life, Sophia had been invited by a popular kid to participate in something. She’d been so nervous, so anxious to do everything right.

  The appointed day arrived and Jannette drove her to the Aubreys’ house in Windover Heights, in the most exclusive area of Phoenix. To Sophia, the house was a virtual mansion with a swimming pool and a tennis court. There were brightly colored balloons and streamers decorating the driveway. Sophia had walked up the stone pathway, her heart thudding with anticipation. Perhaps now Alice Anne would be nice to her and stop pulling her hair on the playground.

  Sophia rang the bell. Alice Anne answered the door wearing a beautiful white lace and pink satin party dress, her usual entourage assembled around her.

  “What are you doing here?” Alice Anne sniffed, curling up her nose with disdain.