Nothing Personal (The Kincaids)

by James, Rosalind

  “Like a really good secretary,” Alec agreed. “Like they used to be, anyway.”

  “Everybody gets a wife,” Brandon put in. “That’s the idea.”

  “Hmm. I’d think hard about that image,” Rae said, her tone dry as dust. “But anyway, this one caught my eye first, and I came back to it at the end, too. And when I see it alone . . .” She flipped her final also-ran over on its face, “I like it even more.”

  “I think we just got schooled, boys,” Alec said with a grin.

  “But don’t go by me,” Desiree said hastily, looking up to see Joe’s frown, the spasm of annoyance that crossed Brandon’s face. “I’m not a marketing expert. How about asking the others? We’ve got ten people out there already. Have them choose, and tell you why. That would be illuminating. They’re all in your target demographic, surely. Or send your top three contenders out to a market research firm. Which you’ve already thought of, I’m sure.” She looked at Brandon with an apologetic laugh.

  “These just came back from the market research firm,” Alec said. “With a strong consensus, which we weren’t sure whether to accept.”

  “Because it was . . .?”

  He smiled again. “Yours.”

  He waited until she was well out of the room, then looked at Joe. “What?”

  Joe shook his head, ran a hand that always looked like it belonged on a laborer, not the best programmer in the business, over his stubble of beard. Alec waited patiently. It could take Joe a while.

  “Man,” Joe finally said, “you’ve got to stop.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop letting her do whatever she wants, just because you’re hot for her.”

  “What?” he challenged as Alec stared at him, speechless for once. “It’s obvious. It’s been the three of us for ten years, man. Ten years. And you and me for longer than that. And you’re screwing it up. You’re pissing it away.”

  “Do you feel that way too?” Alec looked at Brandon. “If you do, say it now.”

  Brandon spread his hands. “Hey, dude. What do you want from me? Do I think she’s a tightass? Yeah, I do, but what CFO isn’t? Do I think she’s got a cute ass? Would I like to tap that? Hell, yeah. And I’ve never seen anybody as sharp on the ops side. Which is generous of me to admit, seeing as how she gave me the worst office. So, hey. Decorative, and doing the job. I’m good.”

  That was going to be Topic B. Meanwhile, Alec looked at Joe again. “Brandon’s right,” he told his best friend. “She’s sharp on the ops side. And by the way,” he added to Brandon, “I assigned the offices, just so you know. And you don’t have the worst one, she does. Who’s next to the break room? She is.”

  “But anyway.” He dismissed that for the irrelevancy it was. “Yeah. She’s sharp on the ops side. She’s sharp on the financial side, too. Ron’s been running companies longer than you and I have been alive, and she was his choice.”

  “And why was that?” Joe asked quietly.

  “If you’re suggesting that she’s sleeping with him,” Alec said, feeling the anger rise, hot, red, and unaccustomed, “you and I are going to discuss this offline.”

  He stopped, went to the door and shoved it closed. Nobody needed to hear this, and he needed the time to compose himself. He was always cool. But he wasn’t cool now.

  “Look, man,” he said after a moment, looking Joe straight in the eye. “You’re the best in the business. I wouldn’t want to do this without you. I never have yet, and I don’t want to start now. But you’ve got to trust me on the admin stuff.”

  Here it was, the elephant in the room, the issue Rae had put her pretty finger on right from the start. He was in charge. They danced around it, but it was the bald truth. He asked Joe’s opinion, and he cared about it. But when it came down to the wire, he called the shots.

  “So you’re saying, get on board or go home,” Joe said.

  Alec winced inside, but kept his gaze steady on the other man. His partner and, besides his dad and his brother, the man he trusted most in the world. Could this really be it? One way to find out.

  “Yeah,” he said. “That’s the bottom line.”

  Joe nodded slowly, gave his jaw one final scratch. “All right,” he said. “I’m on board. I’m not happy, but hell, it’s been too long, and I’ve trusted you to carry me this far.”

  Alec let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, tried his damnedest not to let his relief show. “All right,” he said, and wished he could wipe his hands on his pants.

  “One more thing,” he told both of them. “That’s it, on the mention of her ass. Or her looks. That’s the last time. We clear?” He looked from one man to the other. “Because there’s no place for that here, and that has to come from the top.” Which Rae had said, he remembered. And once again, she’d been right.

  The Other Woman

  “What’s the deal with these boxes?” Desiree asked, touching one of the empty cardboard cartons with her toe. “They’ve been here since yesterday. Simon? Michael?”

  The two young men turned reluctantly from Simon’s cube, where they’d been consulting. Or maybe just chatting. “I brought some stuff in from home,” Simon said.

  She nodded. “Were you planning on taking the boxes home, then?”

  “No. Just hadn’t got around to getting rid of them.”

  “Well, get rid of them now, please. Flatten them and put them in the break room, and the cleaner will take them out.”

  She stood expectantly until he exchanged a speaking glance with his friend and got up, his reluctance obvious, and picked up the cartons. Once she was satisfied, she continued on her way back to her office, her mind returning to its ever-present checklist.

  “Rae!” The call came from the reception desk, and she turned, already smiling.

  “Hi, Claudine!” She retraced her steps as the blonde finished signing in, came over to her with the delight that made her so good at her job, and gave her a quick hug.

  “We already bought it,” Desiree teased. “Just to get that out of the way.”

  “Hey, I’m here on pleasure, not business,” Claudine said. “But I noticed, and I was planning to call and say that if anybody needs any training, let me know and I’ll get it set up ASAP. If I’d known it was you, I’d have called already. I didn’t realize you were part of this outfit. My sources have let me down.”

  “It wasn’t a done deal until the last minute,” Rae explained. Although she was a bit surprised that it had been four whole weeks since she’d signed the contract, and Claudine hadn’t found out. As regional sales manager for the most popular contact software out there, Claudine knew everyone. And everything.

  They’d first met when Claudine was working the booth at a conference, and Desiree had stopped by to ask some questions about the new version. She’d liked the other woman’s no-nonsense competence from the start, but they’d really bonded when Claudine had seen Desiree sitting in a meeting room, waiting for a seminar to start, and had come over to join her. They’d started to chat, only to be increasingly distracted by the conversation of the two guys behind them. One dirty joke after another, each filthier than the last. Not Desiree’s first such experience, and it wouldn’t prove to be her last. Sharing it with Claudine had been an education, though.

  “Hey, guys.” Claudine had turned around with a toss of her blonde mane that channeled the cheerleader she most definitely hadn’t been. “Winston, right?” she asked Guy #1. Claudine remembered every name.

  “Uh . . . yeah,” he said, crossing his arms, then uncrossing them again. “Oh. This is Noah.”

  “Noah,” Claudine nodded while sticking a hand out for the other man to shake. “This is Rae. We’re both pretty cute, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Winston said, looking more awkward than ever.

  “Little tip for you,” Claudine said, her bright smile never wavering. She inclined her head forward confidentially, causing both men to somehow sway towards her as well. “We’re really impressed by the gentlema
n stuff. It’s a woman thing. Keep it clean, win her . . . heart.”

  She’d winked, then, flashed an even brighter smile, and turned around again with Desiree. Winston and Noah had shut up. And Claudine and Desiree had formed a friendship that had lasted through that conference, and the years that had followed.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t know you were in town,” Desiree said now. “I’d have got away for lunch. Well, coffee, anyway. Come on back and tell me what’s new. I’ve got a couple minutes.”

  “Just a flying stop,” Claudine followed Desiree toward her office, waving a hello where she recognized a face. “Portland tomorrow, then Seattle. But we have a few clients in the City I wanted to call on while I was here.”

  “Were we one of them?” Desiree was a little confused. She gestured Claudine into her office, noticed the missing shelf on her bookcase again. She needed to get the furniture guy back up here with that. Joe had one missing as well. Her thumbs typed “shelf” onto her phone, even as she took a seat behind her desk.

  Claudine laughed and arranged her long limbs into one of the visitor’s chairs. “Not exactly. A certain Mr. A. Kincaid I usually manage to pay a non-sales call on. Or maybe you could say that he pays one on me. Like I said, pleasure, not business. And honey, we’re talking pleasure. That man can do things with his tongue that’ll have you begging for mercy and shouting Hallelujah.”

  Desiree felt a jolt that had everything to do with . . . everything. Arousal, and jealousy, and confusion. None of which she wanted to examine right now.

  “TMI,” she said instead. “I’m working with the guy.”

  “And you don’t think about doin’ it with him? How can you help it?”

  “I’m the straitlaced type. Hard-wired that way. So is it a serious thing? You and Alec?”

  Another laugh. “Not exactly. Like I said. Non-sales call. Just a blonde having more fun. And yes, salon blonde counts.”

  And there was the man himself, one brown hand gripping the edge of the doorway as he swung his body around it, took a bouncing stride inside.

  “Somebody told me there was a good-looking woman in the office,” he said. “I thought I’d better come check it out.”

  “Hey, handsome,” Claudine said, rising from her chair and bending to give Desiree a quick hug goodbye before turning to Alec. “You ready to get that drink?”

  “Oh, you know it.” Alec looked at Desiree. “Taking off,” he told her unnecessarily. “Don’t work too late.”

  “Have fun,” she said, her smile feeling pasted on. Which was just stupid.

  She was going over her numbers again, taking advantage of the quiet time. The outer office was dim and silent, even Joe having left a half-hour earlier.

  She looked up at the sound of the office doors opening, then hissing shut again. Sat up a little straighter, her heart beating a little harder. The building had good security, she reminded herself, and you needed a keycard to get up here.

  She could sense, rather than hear, someone moving around out there. If it had been Rosa, she’d have announced her presence with her usual cheerful call of “Cleaners!” That is, if her rolling cart hadn’t done it for her. Desiree wished she’d left her office door open so she could see, then wished she’d locked it. She considered calling out herself, abandoned the idea fast. Sat still and hoped whoever it was would go away.

  The suspense increased as the seconds ticked by, until she was literally holding her breath, staring at the door in frozen silence. And then there was a knock that made her leap in her chair, followed by the sight and sound of . . . just Alec, pushing the door open with a quiet “Rae?”

  “Oh.” She let her breath out with a whoosh, put both hands to her chest without even realizing it, felt the gallop of her heart. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  “Did I? Sorry. Didn’t realize anyone was still here until I saw your light on.” He looked at her more closely. “Hey. I really did scare you.”

  “That’s OK.” She reached for her water bottle, took a swig. “I just wasn’t expecting you back.”

  Why was he back? It had sounded from Claudine’s description like he took his time. Well, if they’d just had one drink, and then got into it . . .

  Danger, Will Robinson. None of her business.

  “Yeah.” He perched on the edge of her desk, swinging a foot. “I stopped by to pick up some stuff. Why are you still here? It’s after eight.”

  “First financials to the board tomorrow,” she explained, trying not to look up into those eyes. Trying not to look at the strength of the thigh resting on her desk. Which didn’t leave her a whole lot to look at. “Running through them again.”

  “Did you eat?”

  “Uh . . .” She had to think about it. “No.”

  “Not dinner? Or not lunch or dinner?”

  “Hey. I had lunch.”

  “Let me guess. An apple. Maybe an energy bar.”

  “You got the apple right,” she said with a reluctant smile. She still felt jumpy, and a little shaky. She had forgotten the energy bar, she realized guiltily.

  “All right.” He got up, held out a hand. “Shut down and come on.”

  “What? I’m still working.”

  “Desiree.” She jumped again at the use of her full name. She heard it so rarely these days. “You can take your laptop with you. And when you get home, you can sit up in bed, the way I’d be willing to bet you do anyway, and go through your numbers. But you’re going to eat first. Come on, now. Shut down and let’s go.”

  “You didn’t eat anything yet?” She clicked her mouse to switch off, then realized the implications of that, what Claudine had said, and could feel herself starting to blush.

  “Nope. Not a thing.” If he’d noticed what she’d said, what she’d thought about what she’d said, he didn’t give any sign of it. “And I’m starved. Take pity on me and keep me company. And then you can go home and look over your financials, although if you’ve made a single mistake, if you have to change a single thing before tomorrow . . . well, if you do, I’ll owe you twenty bucks, how’s that.”

  “Twenty bucks, huh?” She stuffed her laptop into its bag, opened the bottom drawer for her purse. “You have that much confidence in my accuracy?”

  “Desiree,” he said with a smile, walking through her door behind her and waiting while she turned the key, “I have complete faith in you.”

  “The booth’s going to look awesome,” Brandon said, late the next morning. “And that setup should be a piece of cake.” Well, it was nice to be appreciated.

  “Maybe we could get into it in more . . . depth, over lunch,” he suggested. “Could be a long lunch. I’ve got a brand-new Beemer just begging to be driven down the Great Highway. I’d love to have you try it out with me, see how fast we could go, how many laws we could break. I’ll bet you’re not nearly as buttoned-up as you like to pretend. Could be fun, don’t you think?”

  “Thanks,” Desiree said, not looking up from her sketch. “But I’ll be working through lunch.”

  “Sure? Might be nice to get away for a little while, get to know each other better. We’re going to be working together really closely over the next few months. And I wouldn’t mind getting even closer.”

  She looked across her desk at him at last, and the smile on his face left no doubt as to his meaning. Brandon had never heard of the soft sell. And he was attractive enough. Brown hair, stylishly cut. Round blue eyes, a bit of a snub nose, a boyish, open expression and cheerful grin that lots of women would find attractive, she was sure. And although he wasn’t especially tall, topping her own five-nine by only an inch or two, he was in good shape, a shape that he displayed in European-cut slacks, dress shirts that hadn’t come off the clearance rack, and the latest in Italian footwear, all a sharp contrast to Joe’s jeans and running shoes.

  Brandon dressed like Alec, she realized suddenly. Exactly like Alec.

  She sighed, tapped the sheets of paper sharply together to align the edges, and set them aside.
The layout for the booth that she’d better get ordered today, if it was going to be delivered in time. Because it was late November already, and with the holidays coming up . . .

  She needed to deal with this first, though, so she turned her attention back to Brandon. “It’s not a good idea. Not appropriate.” Time to be direct, because the subtle approach wasn’t working. “I appreciate your welcoming me, but I keep my professional relationships professional.”

  “You sure?” he pressed. “It’s not inappropriate if there’s no reporting relationship. If you’re attracted, and I’m attracted, there’s nothing to stop us. See, I read the policy, I didn’t just sign it. Brownie points for me.”

  “Good for you. And I’m sure you read the next paragraph too, about unwelcome advances. You’re allowed to ask once, and now you have, and I’ve answered.” She kept her tone even. She didn’t need to make another enemy here.

  He put up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “All right. I get it. But for the record, any advances you want to make would be welcome. Just to put it out there.”

  “It’s out there. Next item. Job description for your new marcom person. Let’s work it up, I’ll polish it and run it by you, and I’ll post it this afternoon.”

  To her relief, he picked up the cue. Well, nobody could have called him stupid. A little persistent, maybe, but that was his job.

  They were deep into it when she heard the single knock at the half-open door, and saw Alec stepping inside. He pulled his wallet from the back pocket of today’s slacks—black, hugging his . . . physique very nicely indeed, and worn with a silvery-gray shirt that did wonders for his hair and skin.

  Oh, yeah, he was doing something with his wallet too. He pulled out a twenty, waved it in the air. “Any changes?”

  “Mmm . . . no,” she admitted, his mock-concern teasing a smile from her.

  He put the bill back into its slot within the slim strip of black leather and shoved the whole thing into his back pocket again. “Too bad I didn’t set the terms better, but I’d say the next lunch is on you.”