Giving Up the Boss

by Victoria Davies

  With a sigh, she nodded, accepting the T-shirt. “Do you need help getting dressed?”

  The half smile was back. “I’d like to say yes, but I think I can handle it from here.”

  “I’ll go get settled in one of the guest rooms, then.”

  “Take any one you want.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’d like to go over the company situation again, but…” He trailed off, rubbing his forehead.

  “You’re still recovering,” she said. “And we had to stay at the hospital longer than I’d thought today. Why don’t you head to bed and we can go over everything tomorrow? I told the team you were called away unexpectedly vetting a potential acquisition, so that should buy us a day or two.”

  “Quick thinking.”

  “It’s my best feature.”

  A teasing glint entered his eyes. “If you say so.”

  Shaking her head, she moved toward the door. “I’ll be down the hall if you need me. Do you want anything to eat before you sleep?”

  “You don’t have to wait on me.”

  She paused in the doorway. “That’s my role now. I’m your hands. Use me.” Realizing how that sounded, she coughed. “Professionally speaking, of course.”

  “Of course,” he purred, stopping by her side. “We wouldn’t want things to get…messy.”

  “Exactly.”

  His gaze held hers as the blood pounded in her ears. Finally, he stepped away into the bedroom.

  “I’m fine for the night. Go find your bed.”

  It was not a dismissal she’d waste. Gripping the T-shirt, she nearly ran from the room.

  In the hall, she took a deep breath to calm her racing heart.

  Exactly what about the last five minutes was professional? one half of her mind whispered. All of it. I’m still wearing pants, aren’t I?

  That was a win in her books.

  She twisted her fingers together. Jackson never responded to her the way he had today. He never said anything remotely inappropriate. No flirting. No innuendos. And definitely no scorching glances hot enough to burn through her clothes. Imagine if he could do more than look…

  She pushed herself off the wall.

  None of that matters. Just think about jail. Or crippling lawsuit debt. Because that’s what lies ahead.

  A CEO of his power and reputation would not take the damage she’d caused him lightly. Not even if she crawled into his bed in the meantime.

  But at least I’d have the memories.

  Disgust snaked through her. Was she really considering sleeping with Jackson just because he’d finally crooked a finger at her? Besides, he was injured, for God’s sake. He had no idea what he was doing.

  “I’m not that kind of person,” she told herself aloud, as if speaking the words would make them real.

  Even if you know you want to be?

  Shaking her head, she straightened her shoulders. She wasn’t a toy for him to use because he couldn’t remember anyone else, and she wasn’t manipulative enough to turn this tragedy to her advantage.

  Which left her one choice.

  Keep your panties on, Carlow. He’s not for you.

  And never would be.

  Chapter Five

  “Coffee, coffee, coffee,” Lori chanted as she navigated her way through the twisting hallways of the mansion.

  Last night had been rough, lying awake in an unfamiliar bed. There’d been no escaping into sleep when she’d had far too much to worry about. Today she’d have to get her boss back into fighting shape, except this time, he had hours to learn how to run an empire, not years.

  How hard can it be, right?

  His board and team were used to being able to reach him twenty-four-seven whenever they needed to. Not a day went by when he didn’t check in, even on his rare vacations. It might be the weekend, but work never stopped. Not for them. But they’d both been completely out of contact for nearly two days already. Add in today, and they were pushing what they’d be able to get away with without raising eyebrows.

  One day to learn everything he needed to be a CEO on Monday morning. One day for her to train him how to pretend convincingly.

  Piece of freaking cake.

  “It’s all still in there,” she said. “Maybe some things will be automatic.”

  Here’s hoping.

  Reaching the kitchen, she started investigating the chrome machines that lined the counter. The coffee maker was easy enough to find, but she soon realized it took pods and she couldn’t for the life of her find any.

  “It’s cruel and unusual punishment to keep me from coffee,” she muttered.

  “Good to know.”

  Spinning, she saw Jackson stride into the kitchen. His hair was still tousled from sleep and the sweats he wore were a far cry from the impeccable suits she was used to seeing.

  Doesn’t make him any less tasty.

  “How’d you sleep?” she asked.

  “Not well.”

  “Tell me about it.” She turned back to the coffeemaker in frustration. “I’m going to kill someone without caffeine, and you’re the only one here.”

  “Then in the name of self-preservation, try the cupboard to your left.”

  Opening cupboard, she saw stacks of coffee pods in every available flavor. “How did you know that?” she demanded.

  Surprise crossed his features. “I don’t know. It just came to me.”

  “That’s great,” she said, trying not to feel defeated instead of excited that bits of his memory were returning so quickly.

  He shrugged, moving closer. “Figuring out where I keep coffee falls pretty low on the list of things I’d like to remember.”

  “Don’t push yourself,” she said as she took two pods out and popped the first one in the machine. “You’ll remember when you’re ready.”

  “Or I’ll be like this forever.” He leaned against the counter next to her, crossing his arms over his chest in a way the pulled the already snug T-shirt even closer to his body.

  “Then you’ll make a new life for yourself,” she replied, putting her mug in place.

  His silence stretched long enough for her to cast him a worried glance.

  “Not the worst idea,” he said finally.

  “What?” she said, switching mugs. “I was teasing.”

  “I went over every inch of my bedroom last night, looking for clues to who I am. Know what I discovered?”

  “What?”

  “There are no photos of family or friends. No unnecessary knick-knacks around the room. Everything is sterile and impersonal. There isn’t even an extra toothbrush in the bathroom, which means I probably don’t have overnight guests.”

  “Ah,” she started to cut in.

  “Not ones who sleep here,” he amended. “Think I’m wrong?”

  She thought about the women he’d been connected to over the years and admitted he might have a point. It was rare the same name ever came up twice.

  “I’m unattached, hyper-organized, and have set up my home to be functional but not personal. What does that say about me?” he asked.

  “That you don’t spend much time here. Maybe your office will hold more clues,” she pointed out.

  He ran a hand down his face. “Is work my life?”

  “You run a company.”

  “Which means yes.” He sighed. “But it doesn’t feel right.”

  She held out a steaming mug. “You’re not going to figure out everything in a single day.”

  His fingers brushed hers as he took the mug. “These are things I need to know.”

  “That’s what you have me for,” she replied. “I’ll fill in the blanks you can’t.”

  His blue gaze found hers. “And you know me better than anyone?”

  “Well, plus your brother.”

  He tilted his head to the side as he studied her. “Did I know everything about you?”

  Did you know anything about me?

  She stepped back. “I’m your assistant. That’s no
t how it works.”

  “Meaning you anticipate my every need but I have no clue about yours.”

  Pretty much.

  “Are you hungry?” she said, changing the subject. “I burn boiling water but I can probably handle toast since you’re a hand down.”

  “Thanks,” he said, dropping into a chair at the table and putting his head in his hands.

  “Headache?” she asked as she took the bread out of the pantry.

  “Always. The joys of brain damage.”

  “Temporary amnesia,” she corrected.

  “Optimist.”

  I’m not very optimistic about my future right now.

  “You’ve got a follow up appointment with Dr. Warren in two days but if you need to go in sooner just let me know.”

  “I’m fine,” he said as she buttered his toast and brought it over to the table.

  “Not a breakfast fan?” he asked as she took a seat beside him without a plate of her own.

  “Coffee fuels me. It probably runs through my veins at this point.”

  “Sounds like you have a stressful life. You should complain to your boss about that. Oh, wait.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I like what we do. And besides, it’s not like you work any less.”

  “I sound like a great guy to invite to a party.”

  She took a sip from her mug, closing her eyes in pleasure at the familiar taste. “You’re charming,” she said, shifting her attention back to him. “You know how to work a room and leave everyone feeling more at ease. You’re very good with people.”

  He leaned forward. “What else? What sort of person am I?”

  She thought about it, cradling the warm cup. “Sometimes you do this thing where you zoom in on a topic. You can work on a problem for hours without even noticing the world around you.”

  “Without noticing you.”

  She laughed. “Why would you?”

  He didn’t share her amusement. “What else?”

  “Your board says you have an uncanny ability to always know what the market will do. Nothing surprises you. You like to be prepared for every eventuality.” She took another sip, thinking about what he’d want to know. “You can be a shark when you need to be. If there’s something you really want, there’s no stopping you from getting it.”

  His gaze was hooded as he watched her.

  “When your dad died, it was before my time, but Marc says you never even hesitated to step up and be what the company needed you to be. I hear you were barely old enough to shoulder that responsibility, but you didn’t flinch. You take care of people, Jackson. Jobs would have been lost if the company had floundered, and you made sure that wouldn’t happen.” She looked back at him. “Just as you’re doing now. The company comes first. Always.”

  “Always.”

  “You’re a good man,” she said, reaching over to touch his hand. “I wouldn’t have worked for you otherwise. Just focus on that.”

  He linked their fingers. “Tell me about you.”

  She smiled, trying not to think of how he was touching her. “There’s nothing very interesting about me. Just treat me like your shadow, and we’ll get through all this together.”

  “Did I treat you as a shadow before?”

  She pulled her hand away. “I’m an excellent assistant.”

  “Not an answer.”

  “If you’re feeling up to it, maybe we should move to the study and start going over the current company holdings and the tasks you’ll have to weigh in on this week.” Pushing to her feet, she put her empty mug in the sink. “We have a lot of ground to cover, and at some point today, I should swing by my place and pack for a few nights. Plus, my car is still at work and I need to get it home. Chop-chop. Let’s dive right in.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she left the kitchen. The last thing she wanted to do was tell him about their relationship, or lack thereof. Because he was right. She knew everything about him, and he barely glanced at her.

  But the new Jackson didn’t look through her and, even knowing the reality of their situation, she wanted to hold on to that for as long as she could.

  Before she had to give him up for good.

  …

  She said I’m a good man.

  But her description of his life made him wonder.

  Jackson stood more slowly. He added his mug to hers in the sink, loath to go to the study.

  The person she’d painted was that of a successful businessman. Looking at his home, he saw the truth of her words. He was obviously good at what he did. But he didn’t seem to be anything beyond that. Numbers, strategy, position, was that all his life was?

  Boring.

  He must love it to make it the center of his world.

  More than people, apparently. Do I like being alone?

  All signs pointed to yes, but that truth was like an itch in his mind he couldn’t quite scratch.

  Was this really the life I always wanted?

  If it was, he’d better not screw it up. A temporary shift in his perspective shouldn’t ruin the rest of a career he’d apparently spent years building. Eventually his memory would come back, if the doctors were to be believed, and when it did, he’d want this house and this life again.

  Sounds like the only thing I won’t want is Lori.

  He frowned. How was that possible? She didn’t sound like she viewed herself as being important to him at all, despite the fact she was a staple in his business life. What sort of man was he that he’d ever have made her feel that way?

  He rubbed his forehead, wishing the aspirin he’d taken would kick in. “Get over it,” he told himself. “Do your job and get through the memory loss.”

  What other option was there?

  Resolved, he made his way to the study, only getting lost once to wander through a pristine sitting room that looked like it’d never been used. Lori was already at his desk when he found the right room, shuffling papers as she made piles before his chair.

  “We’re going most important to least,” she said as he entered, not bothering to glance up. “Let’s start with what you’ll need tomorrow and work our way out.”

  “What’s tomorrow?” he asked, sinking into a well-worn chair before the desk.

  “We need to go back to the office. Too much time off the grid, and talk will start. I know it seems fast, but hopefully we can hole up in your office and not have to see too many people.”

  “That’s a plan I can get behind.”

  “The rough parts will be any meeting you have to go to that I’m not invited to.”

  He shrugged. “Easy. You’re invited to everything. Case closed.”

  She dropped into a chair by his side. “Not so easy. I can’t be in meetings with the board. It’s above my paygrade, and people will talk. I’ve cancelled as many as I can and pushed out what I can’t, but there will be times in the next few weeks when I’m not beside you.”

  “And I need to be convincing enough not to give us away.”

  “Exactly.”

  “All right, then. Get me up to speed.”

  “Today will be a lot of studying, I’m afraid.” She handed him the first pile. “You need to know all this before we go in. If you get through that stack, we’ll move on to what you need for the rest of the week.”

  “Stern taskmaster.”

  “I’m just getting started.”

  “I’ll have to bring an apple for the teacher tomorrow.”

  “Trying to butter me up?” she asked.

  “Maybe you’ll give me less homework.” Which would make more time for…other activities.

  A brief smile curved her lips. “I know it’s a lot.”

  “But it’s important,” he said. “I get it.”

  “Let me know if the reading becomes too hard,” she said. “You’re not a hundred percent yet. Don’t push yourself more than you should.”

  “What will you do? Read to me if my head hurts?” he teased.

  “Yes.”

  Bec
ause she’s the perfect assistant used to catering to my every need. Even if that means spending hours reading mind-numbing budget reports aloud.

  Something twisted in his chest. He didn’t want her bending over backward for him. She was his lifeline, not his servant. Even if he’d only ever treated her that way before.

  That stops now.

  “Not necessary,” he said, trying to channel the billionaire persona buried somewhere deep within him. “I’ll be fine here. See you at dinner.”

  She blinked. “What? Don’t you want me to go through all of this?”

  “I’ll call you if I need you.”

  “But what about the—”

  “From what you’ve told me, I’m a smart man. I’ll let you know if I have questions. You said you needed to grab your stuff to stay here. Go do that.”

  Shock danced over her features before her face smoothed into an unreadable mask. “Fine. You’ve got my number.”

  Rising to her feet, she swept from the room before he could tell her he was trying to help her, not push her aside.

  Smooth move, Sinclair. Piss off the only person who’s got your back.

  He shook his head. He’d keep things professional. And he’d stop treating the one person who appeared to care about him as an afterthought. The rest he’d figure out as he went.

  Chapter Six

  He doesn’t need me.

  Lori sat on the couch, staring sightlessly at the TV that could double for a small movie screen. Every channel imaginable was at her fingertips, and yet all she could think about was Jackson.

  Today had been the slowest she’d ever worked with him. He lived his life constantly on call, so she had to as well. It wasn’t unusual to get late-night emails or have her phone buzz with notifications all through the weekend. If he was working, so was she.

  Except today when he needed her most, he’d sent her away.

  He’d rather read the day away than ask me for help.

  She pulled her legs up onto the couch and dropped her head on her knees.

  She’d gone and rescued her car, followed by a quick dash home to pack a bag. Then she’d moved in to her new guest room and gotten set up and organized. After that, all she could do was wait. Wait and hope he’d ask for her help.

  Except he didn’t.