Ms. Bravo and the Boss

by Christine Rimmer

  But he enjoyed having her there with him while he ate, especially in the evenings. It kind of rounded out the day, the two of them together at the dining room table. It was something he looked forward to, something he’d quickly gotten accustomed to, something he fully expected to continue through the completion of his current book.

  And every book after that.

  She came toward him across the great room, her expression serene. “What are you staring at?”

  “You.” He thought of the feel of her in his arms, the scent of her that he would know anywhere—and it hit him like the proverbial bolt from the blue.

  He was going about this all wrong. Staying away from her in order to keep her made no sense at all.

  He needed to get even closer than friendship.

  Closer. Dear God. He would love that.

  Too bad he was no good at all that love and romance crap. He communicated through his books. Dealing with actual people had never been his strong suit. He’d been a rotten husband to Carrie, spending most of their marriage on a never-ending tour of duty, and not knowing what to say to her, exactly, on the rare occasions when he was home on leave. So far, he was zero and one in the forever department.

  And if he went for it with Elise and it blew up in his face, where would he be then? Zero and two—and minus the assistant who made it all hang together.

  Losing Anna had just about finished him.

  Still, the differences between Elise and Anna needed considering. Elise was a woman of his own age, a woman he found desirable. Whereas Anna...

  He had cared for Anna, absolutely. They’d been friends—remained friends, to this day. Anna had been good to him. She’d taken excellent care of him. But now, looking back on it, he saw that Anna was bound to leave, bound to go to her daughter and grandchildren eventually.

  Family. It mattered. Even though he had no family left, Jed got that most people placed a high priority on having one.

  If he managed to keep Elise in a business-only capacity, someday she would want a husband and children to call her own. As far as the books getting done, a husband and children didn’t have to be a problem. Elise would meet some local guy, get married, have babies—and continue to make a boatload of money typing Jed’s books.

  Except Jed didn’t even want to think about Elise with some nice, regular guy who would take good care of her and give her babies to love.

  “Jed.” She’d reached the table and now stood over him, watching him, her smile indulgent, her eyes so bright. “What’s going on in that big brain of yours?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “Liar. You’ve got your scary face on—give me your plate. I’ll warm it up.”

  He handed it over. She took both plates to the kitchen area. He watched her walk away. Always a pleasure, watching Elise walk away.

  She set the plates on the counter, got the vented plastic dome from the cupboard, covered one plate, heated it, covered the other and warmed it up, too. “How’s your beer?” she asked, when she set his plate back in front of him.

  “I’m good.” What would it be like, him and Elise, living together, working together, sleeping in the same bed night after night? He was starting to think he really needed to find out. “So the fur ball’s all right?”

  She smoothed her napkin on her lap. “No thanks to you, Wigs is perfectly fine.”

  Jed enjoyed a bite of crab cake. “You know that he had a great time outside, right? He got to run free, hunt, bring home the bacon to the mistress he adores...”

  “That was not bacon. That was a poor, dead little mouse and I don’t want to talk about it at the dinner table.”

  “But you can see that it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to let Mr. Wiggles out now and then.”

  She set down her fork sharply. “Do not even think it. He’s an indoor cat and he’s staying that way. You should read the statistics. Outside cats get in fights and get injured. They eat diseased meat. They’re targets for parasites and predators. Indoor cats live years longer than cats that are allowed outside.” Her eyes flashed with heat and those telltale bright spots of pink stained her soft cheeks. He was tempted to say something else to provoke her, just because he liked to see her spitting fire.

  But on the other hand, he didn’t really want her pissed off at him. Especially not now that he was rethinking his own hard-and-fast rule against seducing his secretary. So he picked up his beer and saluted her with it. “I bow to your greater knowledge on this subject.”

  Her fire turned to sweetness. “Please never let him out again.” Her wide mouth trembled. Her eyes held his.

  Damn. She really did it for him. He’d been an idiot to try to tell himself he wouldn’t end up in bed with her. “I won’t let him out again. You have my word on that.”

  * * *

  The next day during their lunch break, Jed found Mr. Wiggles waiting by the ground-floor French doors again. The cat stared out at the patio and the rim of trees beyond the yard with an expression that seemed to Jed to be very close to yearning. When a finch flitted down and pecked at the gravel between the flagstones, Mr. Wiggles made chirping, eager sounds. His whiskers quivered in anticipation of the hunt.

  “Sorry, big guy. No can do.” Jed turned for the stairs and didn’t look back, though it did bother him that the fur ball had hunted his first, last and only mouse. All creatures deserved access to the great outdoors.

  It wasn’t until that night, when he woke to the sound of Mr. Wiggles’s motorboat purr and opened his eyes to find the cat lying on the pillow next to him, that he knew what he had to do.

  * * *

  Jed spent a few hours Sunday researching the project. Monday, while Elise was taking her lunch break, he called Bravo Construction.

  Nell Bravo was there and willing to take his call. For the past four months or so, he only ever dealt with Nell when he needed something from the builder. It was easier that way. She was smart, tough and direct and never accused him of hurting her feelings. In the past, he’d been brusque with the receptionist and yelled too loud at one of their carpenters. After that, Nell told him he was to deal with her and only her.

  Nell didn’t say hello. She opened with “You’d better be treating my sister right.”

  “She’s still here. I think you can take that as a very good sign.” He realized he needed to make nice. For giving him Elise, Nell deserved a thank-you. “Elise is just what I was looking for. Thanks for steering her my way.”

  “You’re welcome, Jed. And what can I do for you today?”

  “I have a project I need built. It’s not exactly what you do. But I thought if you couldn’t help me, you could refer me to someone who can.”

  “Happy to. Tell me what you need.”

  He described what he wanted and then elaborated a little. “I was thinking a basic structure at first, with maybe add-ons, climbing runs, bump-outs, things like that later, after we see how it works out. I want it to look good, to fit with the landscaping and the house. High-end, you know?”

  “I understand. But I didn’t have a clue you had a cat.”

  “Of course I don’t have a cat. Do I look like a man who would have a cat?”

  “So it’s for Wigs, then?”

  “Why? Is that somehow a problem?”

  “No. I’m surprised, that’s all. This isn’t exactly your style.”

  “You mean, because I’m such a hard-ass, I can’t do something nice for Elise and her cat?”

  “Pretty much. Tell me, Jed.” He knew from her tone that he wouldn’t like what came next. And he didn’t. “Are you a secret softy?”

  He had no idea what to say to that, so he demanded curtly, “Can you make it happen, or refer me to someone who can?”

  “No way I’m referring you,” she said with a low laugh.

  “What
the hell?” he growled. “Somehow, this is funny?”

  “Well, yeah, it kind of is.” He was just about to tell her thanks for nothing and hang up, when she asked, “So what time are you through yelling and throwing knives today?”

  “When am I done writing, you mean? We knock off around nineteen hundred hours.”

  “Seven works for me. I’ll draw up something basic and you can give me more details tonight to flesh it out.”

  “So you’re telling you’re going to build it for me and you’ll be here at nineteen hundred hours?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Excellent.” He was relieved. Bravo Construction always did great work. They came in on time and gave him what he asked for, only better. Plus, if had to deal with other people, he preferred people he already knew, people who weren’t the least bit afraid of him. The scared ones just never worked out. “When can you start on it?”

  “Let me check the schedule before I commit, but I’m pretty sure once you approve the design we can get going within the week.”

  “The sooner the better.”

  She made a low, amused little sound. “I might even give you a special discount, being as how it’s for Wigs and all.”

  “Money is no object. I want it to look good, like everything you build. And I want it roomy with lots of climbing, scratching and hiding options. Also, I want it as soon as possible.”

  “Of course you do, Jed. And at Bravo Construction, we make it our business to see that you get exactly what you want.”

  He wasn’t sure he liked her tone. “You know, Nell. Sometimes I find your attitude humorous.”

  “How ’bout now?”

  He wasn’t touching that. “See you tonight. Join us for dinner?”

  “Sure, thanks.”

  “Good, then.” He hung up before she could give him more grief.

  * * *

  Besides the money and the jetted tub and the way she was getting to like her grouchy employer way more than she should, Elise appreciated being allowed to dress for comfort while working for Jed. If she had to spend the whole day sitting on her butt, at least she didn’t have to do it in a pencil skirt.

  Jed said he didn’t mind what she wore as long as her clothes didn’t constrain her or break her concentration in any way. So she wore leggings and roomy casual shirts. Now and then in the past couple of weeks as the summer turned hot, she even wore shorts. Jed didn’t complain about the shorts.

  On the contrary, she would often catch him looking at her bare legs with great interest, his eyes kind of glazing over. She loved that. Sometimes when she was typing and couldn’t actually see him staring, she knew exactly what he was doing anyway, because he would pause in the middle of a sentence...and then catch himself with a throat-clearing sound. Then he would murmur, “Elise,” so that she would stop typing, and follow it with a string of muttered swear words, at which point he would grumble out her name again and lurch back into the story.

  That day, she’d started off in leggings and a lightweight tunic. But it was gorgeous out, and hot. At lunch, she’d changed to cutoffs, cowboy boots and a soft plaid shirt, and had taken her sandwich out on the deck off the great room to enjoy the sunshine.

  When Jed joined her in the office after the break and she swung her chair around to greet him, he did a double take at the sight of her bare legs—and then instantly tried to pretend that he hadn’t. She totally loved that.

  He said, “Your sister Nell is coming tonight.” He sounded furious. But she was on to him big-time. He often seemed angry when he was flustered. “She’ll eat with us.”

  And wait a minute. Had she heard him right? Jed didn’t make a habit of inviting her family members for dinner—he didn’t make a habit of inviting anyone for dinner. “Okay. I’m just going to ask it. Why is my sister suddenly coming to dinner?”

  “I invited her.” He had on his scary face.

  She rose from her chair. “That thunderous expression you’re wearing? Doesn’t faze me in the least. And let me put it this way. I’m not typing a word until you tell me what’s going on.”

  He grabbed a bowie knife from the array on the credenza and whipped it toward the padded wall. It landed with a thwack. “Don’t piss me off. It messes up my aim. You could get seriously hurt.”

  She sat on the edge of her desk, crossed her legs and thought how handsome he was when he tried to be intimidating. All testosterone and hunky grumpiness. “Are you trying to scare me? Because it’s not really working.”

  He threw another knife. “You Bravo women. You’re all about the attitude.”

  “You’re saying Nell gave you attitude?” His answer to that was to send another knife flying at the wall. “I’m guessing that’s a yes. What’s going on, Jed?”

  He had ninja stars, too. He picked one up and sent it spinning. Bull’s-eye. Finally, he turned to her. “I wanted it to be a surprise. But then I knew you wouldn’t like it if your sister just showed up out of nowhere. And I didn’t want to spring it on you in front of her—just in case you don’t take it well, you know?”

  For a man who used words for a living, he was making a real hash of explaining himself now. “Take what well?”

  Instead of answering her question, he scowled and added, “But I can’t see why you wouldn’t. It’s a good thing and you should love it. I know the damn cat will.”

  “Jed. What in the world are you talking about?”

  He picked up another knife and then set it down without throwing it. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  This was a first. “But it’s work time.”

  “Work can wait.”

  That was so totally not Jed that her mouth fell open. “Are you feeling all right?”

  He held out his hand to her. “Get over here.”

  “You know you need to work.”

  “Fine. Grab a steno pad and a pencil.”

  “What for?”

  “If I have an idea while we’re walking, you can jot it down.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Think of it as working. Steno pad. Pencil.”

  She bent over the side of the desk, pulled open the pencil drawer and found both. “Fine.” She waved the pad at him. “Got ’em.”

  “Good. Now, come here.”

  She got up from the desk. “You’re the boss.”

  “And don’t you forget it.” He wiggled his big fingers at her impatiently.

  She took her time strolling over there, partly because she loved baiting him. And partly to revel in how hard he was trying not to glance down at her legs. When she slipped her free hand in his, she gave him her sweetest smile. “Well, all right. I have to admit that a walk sounds really nice.”

  Downstairs, Wigs was sitting at the French doors staring longingly at the patio and the woods beyond, the way he’d been doing too often since last Wednesday when Jed had let him out.

  “Sorry, sweetie. No can do.” She scooped up the cat and set him safely out of the way.

  They slipped through the doors and Jed shut them. Wigs stepped up to the other side and sat down to stare out again. He meowed at her, but softly enough that she couldn’t hear him through the insulated glass. She got the message, though, loud and clear. He longed for the freedom of the great outdoors.

  “Poor guy.” Jed claimed her hand again.

  She almost yanked it back. “No thanks to you.”

  “Come on.” He said it gently, coaxingly even.

  “What is going on with you?”

  “Just walk.” Pulling her with him, he set off across the patio and into the trees, where the shade made the air a little cooler.

  They walked in silence to the meadow and across it. He took the winding trail on the left and they started upward into the forest again. Overhead, somewhere beyond the green
canopy of the tall firs, she heard a hawk cry. Small creatures scrabbled in the underbrush. Elise breathed in the warm, pine-scented air and told herself to enjoy the moment.

  A stroll in the woods with Jed. Who knew that was ever going to happen?

  When the ground leveled out again and the trees opened up to a small, grassy space, he stopped suddenly and turned to her. She gazed up at him, admiring him though she probably shouldn’t. His dark hair showed glints of bronze in the sunlight. And he had a little gray at the temples. It looked good on him.

  “Might as well get on with it,” he said bleakly.

  She was all for that. “Great. Talk to me.”

  “It’s like this. I want your damn cat to be able to go outside. Your damn cat wants to be able to go outside. But you want him safe. So I came up with a solution. It’s called a ‘catio’—get it? Cat patio. Which is too cute by half if you ask me. I want to enclose the back patio in wire fencing and rig one of the French doors with a cat door. Nell will build it for me, which is why she’s coming over tonight, to agree on the plans and collect a deposit.”

  Elise stared up at him, into those green eyes she’d once seen as icy. This man.

  Oh, God. This man.

  Her arms ached to grab him close and hold him tight and never, ever let him go.

  Except that grabbing him would be so stupid. She needed this job, needed to stick with it right through to the end of this book, as planned. She needed every penny he was paying her; she couldn’t afford to take a chance on messing it all up. And falling into bed with the boss could definitely mess it all up.

  Jed’s mouth had a grim twist to it now. “You don’t like it. You hate it.”

  She thought of last Wednesday, of Wigs and that poor, dead mouse. Of Jed warning her not to start screaming. The mouse is a gift, he’d said. At the time, she’d been offended that he assumed she would freak, but the point was, a gift mattered. A gift ought to be properly appreciated.

  And this man had given her no end of gifts—not the least of which included a big boost to her self-image and self-confidence after the endless series of emotional and financial blows she’d sustained in recent months.