by Dara Girard
She rested back on the pillows and did.
Kenneth went to his bedroom and moved a game piece on his chessboard. He had been playing himself for two months and seemed to be at a standstill. He stared at the board. What was he going to do with her? School was closed for the summer, and she wasn’t sociable enough for camp. There were camp counselors somewhere, still recovering from their encounter with Ace Preston.
He had to find someone to look after her while he was at work. Ms. Rose was busy enough. He couldn’t put an extra burden on her. He would have to tell his assistant to find someone, someone discreet who wouldn’t use this family situation to their own advantage, someone who could take Ace’s tricks…but most of all, someone kind, someone she could trust. He turned off the light and climbed into bed. He would speak to Ms. Mathew tomorrow.
* * *
“I blew up in his face like a volcano. I can’t seem to help it,” Jessie complained at breakfast two days later. The summer’s warm breath seeped through the open window of the breakfast nook where the three sisters ate. The morning sun peered through like a stray cat, while the overhead fan gave a gentle wind and enhanced the smell of chamomile tea and blueberry pancakes.
“Could you pass me the salt?” Michelle asked Teresa.
Teresa gave it to her. “Could you hand me the butter?”
“Sure.”
“These eggs are delicious.”
“Thanks.” Teresa went on to discuss the ingredients she had used.
Jessie watched the dull exchange for a moment, then pounded her hand on the table, rattling the dishes. “Isn’t anyone listening to me? I’ve got a problem.”
“The problem is that destructive temper of yours,” Michelle said, calmly salting her eggs.
Jessie narrowed her eyes and clenched her fist. “I don’t have a destructive temper.”
Michelle sniffed. “Right, and I’m Cleopatra. Everyone knows the Clifton sisters have tempers.” She raised her teacup, as if offering a toast. “It’s our claim to fame.”
“He’s a fraud.”
“That’s not the point. You need him to fall for you, and you’ve already lost time. You’ll have to ask for a job. I think a couple of administrative positions have opened up.”
“Work for him? No way.”
Teresa poured syrup on her pancakes, then took a bite. She chewed thoughtfully. “You need to have an excuse to see him.”
“He’s the reason you were fired, so he owes you a job,” Michelle said. “I heard that he has a position he must fill. I didn’t get the details, but it sounded interesting. Just say you’ll take it.”
“Yes. This is a great opportunity. Try not to lose your temper, and something good might come out of it.”
Jessie frowned. “Like what?”
“You might get employed again, instead of hanging about here,” Michelle said. She stared at Jessie critically. “You’ll have to borrow one of my suits.”
“I’m not wearing a skirt.”
“No one is asking you to,” Teresa said soothingly. “But at some point you’ll have to show some leg.” She lifted up a leg of Jessie’s sweatpants. “You have nice ones.”
“Maybe even some cleavage,” Michelle added.
Jessie glared at her.
“In spite of all the baggy clothes you wear, I know that you have breasts.”
“I am not—”
“Let’s take this one step at a time,” Teresa interrupted. “Everything will be revealed in due time.”
Michelle laughed. Jessie scowled.
* * *
After breakfast, Michelle helped Jessie put on a nice cream pantsuit and pulled her hair back into a bun. She put on a dab of lipstick and highlighted her eyes. Jessie looked at herself in the mirror.
“I look like you!” she cried.
Michelle frowned. “What’s wrong with that?”
“I’m supposed to attract him, not try to take his job.”
“You’re going for a job interview. You need to look efficient.”
“Teresa, say something,” Jessie pleaded.
“The makeup could be stronger.” She grabbed the tube of lipstick.
Michelle shook her head. “If you go there like a painted doll, the assistant is going to see right through you and not let you in.”
“A little makeup won’t hurt,” Teresa said, applying more lipstick. “Now, remember to look inviting.”
“How?”
“Use those expressive eyebrows of yours, and flutter your eyelashes.”
“And moan and whimper,” Michelle added sarcastically.
Both sisters glared at her.
“You’re not helping,” Teresa said. “Have you forgotten what’s at stake?”
“Her pride, her dignity, her self-respect, her—”
Teresa turned to Jessie. “Just remember to smile. Give him compliments.”
“And if all else fails,” Michelle said, brushing some lint off her shoulder, “knock him over the head and hope he develops amnesia.”
Chapter 7
The lights were cruelly bright in the elegant ladies’ room of Radson Electronics and Software. The harsh overhead glare made Jessie’s face look like a mannequin, and already strands of hair were escaping her bun. She sighed and attempted to brush the strands back into place. She was about to swear in frustration when she noticed a little boy in a large, baggy T-shirt and a baseball cap. He snatched something from a woman’s purse and stuffed it into his pocket. He quickly looked left and right, then headed for the exit. Jessie grabbed his sleeve before he could make his escape.
“Hey, what’s the big deal?” the boy asked, trying to pull free.
Jessie stared closer, noticing the boy’s serious brown eyes. “Wait a minute—you’re a girl.”
“Yeah, what of it?”
Jessie held out her hand. “Give it here.”
The girl smoothed out the wrinkles in her shirt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Perhaps the police could refresh your memory.”
The girl forced a cool smile. “Look, I wasn’t hurting anyone.”
Jessie kept her hand held out.
The girl sighed and handed her a wallet, a necklace, a broach and a tube of lipstick.
Jessie was reluctantly impressed. “You’ve been busy.”
“It’s been a busy day. Please don’t tell anyone. It’s harmless fun. You know, people shouldn’t carry so many things around with them. It gives a girl ideas.” Her eyes slid away. “Come on, you understand. If you don’t tell anyone, I can make it up to you. I know people.”
“Just don’t let me catch you doing it again.”
She smiled. “You won’t regret it.”
Jessie grabbed the back of her collar before she could leave. “Just give me back my watch.”
The girl laughed in triumph. “Just testing.” She placed the watch in Jessie’s palm. “You’re good.”
“I know.”
The girl gave a tiny salute, then rushed out of the room.
* * *
Jessie put the items in the Lost and Found, then headed for Kenneth’s office.
“I’m here to see Kenneth Preston,” she told the assistant, a formidable yet attractive woman dressed completely in brown, with her hair pulled back in a braid so tight that it gave her face a cheap facelift.
The woman stared up at the unthreatening female before her. She didn’t look like the typical silly fluff that came around to haggle her boss, with their short skirts and tight blouses, but she wouldn’t put it past her. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but—”
“Then I’m afraid he can’t see you.” She went back to typing.
“Ms. Mathew—” she began, reading Glenda Mathew on the desk.
“Mrs. Mathew, if you please,” the woman corrected. “I haven’t been married for twenty-eight years to be called ‘Ms. ’”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Mathew, but it’s important business.” The woman gave her a
look that said I’ve heard that before.
Jessie leaned closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “Listen, there’s a lady claiming that she’ll file a paternity suit against Mr. Preston. I’ve been able to dissuade her from spreading her story, but I have to talk to him about it. It’s a very delicate matter. I hope that I can trust you to keep this situation to yourself.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Of course.”
“May I please speak to him?”
The assistant picked up the phone, muttered a few words, then replaced the receiver. “Wait over there,” she ordered, pointing to a row of chairs. “He’ll be ready to see you in a few minutes.”
Jessie couldn’t believe it had worked. Kenneth must be a busy guy for a lie like that to succeed. She took a seat, sinking into the too-soft leather cushions, and picked up one of the magazines on the side table.
“I had the best date ever last night with Kenneth,” she overheard an employee say.
“Couldn’t have been as good as mine,” another woman replied.
Jessie lowered her magazine to the bridge of her nose. The first woman was tall, in a willowy way, with handsome features; the other woman had a friendly face and hair so stiff that it looked like it was in danger of breaking off.
“So where did he take you?” Willow Woman asked.
“To that new Thai restaurant.”
The other woman lifted her nose a notch higher. “Well, he took me to see a play that just opened.”
Jessie shook her head. Dating his employees, just like the rumors said. Had the guy no morals? She turned to glance at the assistant to see if she had overheard. But instead of seeing her typing, Ms. Mathew was staring straight at her.
“For the third time, he’s ready to see you now,” she said tartly.
“Oh.” Jessie tossed the magazine down and stood. “Thank you.”
She took a deep breath and said a silent prayer before opening the door. She desperately hoped that she wouldn’t twist her ankle in the stilts the fashion industry called high heels. She opened the door, then stood paralyzed. She had expected to see an office. This was a presidential suite at a luxury hotel. It was the size of her living room and expertly decorated in the colors of green and gray. It had an inviting fireplace, with a glass coffee table and a charcoal leather couch facing it. Jessie didn’t doubt that he put all three to use.
It wasn’t only the office that rendered her speechless, but the man who filled it with his magnetic presence. Kenneth sat casually on the edge of his desk, looking down at his computer, dressed in a dark suit that accentuated his strong build. He suddenly looked like a stranger to her, a ruthless tycoon who could easily destroy a company with the flick of his wrist. He turned to her, and his keen brown eyes bore into hers.
Kenneth shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m not really in the mood for games today. What do you want?”
“I…I…” For some reason her mouth and brain wouldn’t connect. Perhaps Deborah was right: there were certain men out of her league.
“What are you doing here?” Kenneth rested an arm over his knee. “Glenda said that you had a delicate issue to discuss with me.”
Jessie slowly shut the door and went towards him, unsure if she felt unsteady on her feet because of the heels or the look Kenneth was sending her. The hostility coming from him was as tangible as hot coal, and just as scorching. He had every right to look at her with distrust, and she didn’t know how to change it. As she approached the desk, she discovered why he had been sitting on it. A little girl spun around in his chair.
Jessie stopped and stared; the girl did the same. “You!” they chorused.
“You two know each other?” Kenneth asked, curious.
“No,” Jessie said.
“Yes,” the girl replied.
Kenneth rubbed his chin. “Which is it, yes or no?”
“Yes,” Jessie corrected.
“No,” the girl said.
Kenneth frowned.
“We met in the ladies’ room,” Jessie said, noticing that the girl’s knuckles had gone pale. They quickly relaxed.
“I see. Well, this is my niece, Ace,” Kenneth said absently.
Jessie reached out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Ace grinned, pleased with the gesture. “She thought I was a boy at first. Most people think I’m a boy, but I don’t mind.”
“Why do they call you Ace?”
“My father wanted a boy.”
Jessie smiled. “That figures. My grandfather wanted a boy too. Until I was thirteen, he called me Jay. I got mistaken for a boy all the time. It was really funny to trick people and see their faces when they discovered I was a girl.”
Ace giggled. “It’s true. Once I joined this secret club that was supposed to be all boys. But I dropped out because it was boring.”
“I know. Have you ever—” She stopped, noticing that Kenneth was watching her with an odd expression. “But that’s not why I’m here.”
Kenneth stood, his eyes wary. “Why are you here?”
Jessie glanced at Ace, then back at him. “Perhaps this matter would be best discussed where she can’t hear it.”
“Probably,” he said, resigned.
“Nice to meet you, Ace,” Jessie said.
The girl smiled. “Right.”
Ace tugged on her uncle’s sleeve, then whispered something in his ear. His eyebrows shot up and he shook his head. Ace continued to talk until he closed his eyes and groaned. He ushered her out of the room, but not before she was able to give Jessie the thumbs-up sign.
He asked Jessie to sit, and took a seat behind his desk. He did so with such grace and efficiency that Jessie could only stare. She had never seen him this way, so in command and in control. She had known he had it in him—that behind his friendly I and devastating smile lived a darker, colder side—but she’d never seen it before. It was similar to witnessing a beloved pet turn into a ferocious predator. And he was definitely a predator. His eyes gave away nothing except his determination to know what she was up to.
Jessie walked towards the offered chair, accidentally tripping over the rug. She looked down and saw the gigantic head of a bear displaying its teeth. She let out a little squeal, then she noticed that it was not a real head that was ready to bite her exposed ankles. Her imagination was getting the best of her.
“Are you okay?” Kenneth asked, standing.
“I’m fine.” She took a seat. He resumed his seat as well.
“Do you want a drink?” he asked, watching Jessie fidgeting in her chair. She looked left and right, as if she expected the walls to crush her.
“Uh…no, thanks.” She tried to smile, but her mouth wouldn’t move. Charm him, charm him, her mind kept telling her, but she didn’t know how to begin. She couldn’t do it, she suddenly realized. She was a plain jock, an ex-waitress who lived with her sisters. She couldn’t charm this man, this stranger with an intelligence and ambition that had given him financial success. He was clever; he had outwitted her before, hadn’t he? She couldn’t ask him for a job. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to bend that low.
* * *
She stood. She would have to come up with another plan. “I’m sorry I’ve taken up your time.”
“Sit down.” He said the words softly, but the command was clear.
She hesitated, but sat. She fought the urge to bite her nails.
“You’re wearing one of Michelle’s suits, aren’t you?”
She glanced down and fingered the lapel of her jacket. Oh, God, was it that obvious? “Uh, yes.”
He watched her with intense eyes and put his fingers together, forming a steeple. “Do you need money? Is that why you’re here?”
Jessie shook her head. “No, no, no. I’m, um…” Why couldn’t she just say what she needed? She wished she were Michelle, with her calm gaze and smooth voice. Or as pleasant as Teresa, with a ready smile and gentle eyes. Or even someone with the seductive powers of Gran Sonya, with her brillia
nt mind and dangerous body. But she was Jessie, the only woman around who could annoy him. She rubbed her temples, a headache dancing against her skull with foolish abandon.
Kenneth let out a fierce sigh and stood. “Why do you do this?”
“Do what?” she asked, watching him as he poured a glass of water.
“Get so anxious that you give yourself a headache? On the field, you’re as cool as lemonade, but off, you’re a bundle of nerves.” He handed her the glass and aspirin.
“Thank you.”
After she swallowed, Kenneth took the glass from her and held her hand. “You still bite your nails, huh?”
She pulled her hand away and frowned at them. “I’m trying to stop.”
He scratched the back of his wrist. “Why are you here?” he asked again, tucking away a layer of his hostility.
She decided to stall a little longer. “You look different.”
He had begun to sit, but paused and looked at her. “What?”
“I can barely recognize you in this.” She gestured towards his attire.
“That makes two of us. Just a minute ago, I thought Michelle had walked in here, but of course she wouldn’t have her hair all over the place.”
Jessie’s hand flew to her hair. She could feel the rebellious strands. “Damn.”
“So you don’t like my suit?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. You just look different.”
“Of course. It’s my armor. It helps to look intimidating in this line of work. The kind boy-next-door image doesn’t go far.” He took off his jacket and tie and rolled up his cuffs. “There. Now I’m the guy you’ve hated since—”
“I don’t hate you,” she cut in.
“Why are you here?” he asked. This time, his tone left no room for excuses or delays.
Jessie crossed her legs and leaned forward, deciding to be blunt. “You owe me a job.”
“I do?”
“Yes. If it hadn’t been for you, I’d be employed right now.”
