Callan's Proposition

by Barbara Mccauley

  Hell, he hadn’t understood one thing that had happened to him since he’d come back from Woodbury and found Francine sitting at Abby’s desk. Why would this be any different? “No, I don’t understand. Why can’t you work here?”

  Her cheeks turned bright pink. “Because we…we slept together.”

  Crazy. This was absolutely crazy. He’d pretended he was engaged to her while her aunts were here, done cartwheels and handstands to keep her, and now she was leaving anyway? Because they’d slept together?

  He’d expected her to try and distance herself from him now that her aunts were gone, but he certainly hadn’t expected her to quit.

  God help him, would he ever understand women?

  “What happened this weekend,” he said carefully, “has nothing to do with our work. I admit I might get distracted from time to time, but we’re adults, Abby. We can certainly refrain from any lascivious displays of lust in the office. And what we do at night—” he leaned in closer, brought his mouth within a whisper of hers “—nobody needs to know but us.”

  She nearly leaned toward him, then blinked quickly and pulled back. “I would know, Callan. Sex in the office never works.”

  “We’ve never had sex in the office,” he said evenly and looked at his desk. “But we could test the theory.”

  Her entire face colored now. “That’s not what I meant. I’m talking about office flings. They don’t work.”

  Fling? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to shake her or kiss her, but since neither one was a good idea, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “And how do you know that?”

  “I pulled up some articles from the Internet. Saucy, Blaze and Sophistication. They all advised against it. Sleeping with your boss only leads to difficulties.”

  “Let me get this straight,” he said between clenched teeth. “You’re quitting because of an article you read in a magazine?”

  “Of course not. They just confirmed what I was already feeling. I’d like us to be friends, but if I stay here, sooner or later what happened between us might happen again, and that would only lead to complications.”

  Complications? His whole life had been nothing but complications since Abby’s aunts had come into town. He could handle complications, dammit.

  A deep, strangled sound rattled inside his throat. He took hold of her arms and yanked her to him. “I’m not letting you quit, Abby. We’ll work this out.”

  He couldn’t tell her he wouldn’t make love to her again, because that would be a bald-faced lie, and she would know it. He wanted to make love to her right now. And tonight. Tomorrow and the day after that, too.

  And he wanted her to work for him, too.

  He refused to accept that he couldn’t have both. She was just as attracted to him as he was to her. Even now he could see the desire in her eyes, the soft parting of her lips. And as much as he wanted to crush his mouth against hers, he realized this would be bad timing.

  She just needed a little more time. He would convince her. She couldn’t refuse him forever. She’d come around.

  “Let’s talk about this over dinner,” he said gently, and loosened his hold on her.

  She pushed the envelope she’d been holding into his arms. “No, Callan. I won’t change my mind. I’ll be in the office until next Monday, then I’ll be gone. I’m sorry.”

  She moved around him and without looking back, left his office and closed the door quietly behind her. He swore under his breath, then looked in the envelope she’d given him.

  Her resignation.

  He felt something else in the envelope and looked inside. He pulled out the engagement ring and glared at it.

  Damn you, Abigail Thomas!

  He’d done absolutely everything he could think of to keep the woman. What the hell else could she possibly want?

  On a growl, he ripped the envelope in two and dumped it in the trash can.

  Resign? he thought angrily. I don’t think so, Abby.

  Nine

  “Are you avoiding me?”

  Callan stared at his sister, considered shutting his apartment door in her pretty little face. He sighed instead and stepped aside, letting her flounce past him in her long, flowery skirt and white tank top.

  “I left two messages on your phone here over the weekend and two today on your voice mail at the office.” Cara nearly stumbled over the open duffel bag he’d tossed into the living room. Actually, he’d thrown the bag against the wall when he’d come home a few minutes ago, then kicked it. Several articles of clothing, a can of shaving cream and tube of toothpaste lay scattered on the floor.

  “I’ve been busy,” he grumbled. “This isn’t a good time, Cara.”

  “Neither have the past three days, obviously.” Folding her arms, she stood in the middle of the living room and faced him. “What’s going on, Cal?”

  As much as he loved his sister, Callan was in no mood to go rounds with another stubborn female. He headed to the refrigerator, rooted for a beer, then swore when the best he could come up with was a diet orange soda.

  “What makes you think there’s something going on?” He popped the soda can open, sniffed at it. “Everything’s just fine. Peachy, in fact.”

  She glanced at the mess on the floor, then looked back at him with one brow raised. “I can tell.”

  “A man’s got a right to a little privacy, Cara.” He swung the can in a wide gesture. “He should be able to come and go without anybody checking up on him and poking into his affairs, don’t you think?”

  Cara’s raised brow arched higher. “Absolutely.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “So did you and Abby have a fight?”

  He choked on the swig of soda in his mouth. “Fight? Abby doesn’t fight. She makes logical, rational, sensible decisions based on articles in Blaze.”

  “Abby reads Blaze?”

  He dragged a hand through his hair. “Just the one about—” he started to say sex, then caught himself “—relationships in the office.”

  Cara nodded. “Oh, yeah, I read that one. It said that office flings were a bad idea and you should never sleep with your boss. Good article.”

  Flings. There was that damn word again. Abby wasn’t a fling, dammit. “What the hell do they know?”

  “Statistics,” she said with a nod of her head. “It’s exciting for a while, then it all falls to pieces, your job and your heart.”

  “She quit, dammit!” He slammed the soda on the coffee table and orange liquid sloshed out. “Just because we—”

  “You slept together?” she finished the sentence for him when he hesitated.

  Great. The last thing in the world he wanted was to discuss his sex life with his sister, of all people.

  “That’s nobody’s business but ours.” He thought of the mess it would make if he kicked the can of soda. It would almost be worth it. “She didn’t have to quit. We’re both adults. We could discuss it.”

  “I can imagine how you would discuss it, Cal.” Cara sighed. “You want it all, don’t you? Sex and the secretary. So like a man.”

  He frowned at her. She made it sound so…tacky. It wasn’t like that at all. “Speaking of men, don’t you have one to go home to?”

  She smiled. “He’s scouting a location for a new center in Trenton and won’t be back until day after tomorrow. You have my full attention.”

  “Well, take it somewhere else, Sis. I don’t want it or need it.” What he wanted—what he needed—he couldn’t have.

  And that was Abby.

  Cara laughed, actually laughed at him.

  “This is priceless,” she said between giggles. “For twenty-seven years I couldn’t sneeze without my four big brothers saying gesundheit. And then that little incident six months ago, before Ian and I got married, when the four of you were spying on me? I don’t recall needing or wanting your so-called help then, either.”

  She walked toward him and hugged him. He simply glared at her. “But you know what, big brother? As much as it
annoyed me, it also made me feel good to know how much I was loved.”

  How could she do that? he wondered. Make him so damn mad one minute, then make his gut twist the next. Sighing, he slipped his arms around her.

  Women.

  And there was another woman who could do that to him, he realized. One that he had absolutely no brotherly feelings for.

  “Abby’s not the type to take love lightly,” Cara said and looked up into her brother’s surprised eyes. “She’s going to need more than you’re offering. If you can’t give it to her, then you need to let her go.”

  Love? Callan stared at his sister. Who said anything about love? He thought Abby was terrific, but he sure as hell wasn’t ready for that. That was way down the road somewhere. He felt a chill shiver up his spine at the same time his heart slammed against his chest.

  How did his sister know what type Abby was, anyway? He’d known her for a year, and he hadn’t a clue. She had so many layers to her, so many different facets, she made his head swim. And he was certain there were more, waiting to be discovered. By him.

  Let her go? He couldn’t do that.

  “I can see you’re not listening to me,” she said with a sigh, then touched his cheek. “I’m meeting our brothers at the tavern. Wanna join me?”

  He shook his head. He sure as hell didn’t need his brothers’ ribbing right now. “You go on. Maybe I’ll join you later.”

  She smiled. “Don’t make me have to track you down next time. I need to know you’re all right.”

  “I’m fine, Sis.” He kissed her cheek, slipped an arm around her shoulders and walked her to the door. “I think I’m capable of handling this…situation on my own.”

  She was halfway out the door when she turned to him. There was something in her eyes he couldn’t read, but he remembered his mother called it “the devil dancing” look.

  “Think again, Cal.” A smile lightly touched her lips. “And don’t stand close to any cliffs.”

  He closed the door behind her and frowned. Cliffs? What the hell was she talking about?

  Abby stood at the kitchen sink, grating carrots for a salad, thinking about all the things she needed to do this evening: fold the clothes she’d put in the dryer when she got home from work, sort through three days’ worth of mail, empty the trash for pickup tomorrow, wash the bathroom floor.

  Decide what to do with the rest of her life.

  She’d bought three different newspapers on her way home from work. Since she’d be needing a new job next week, she thought she should at least start looking at the employment opportunities. She wasn’t in any special hurry: she’d put enough money aside these past few years that she didn’t have to work for a while if she didn’t want to. But she’d always felt more comfortable when she had a goal, a plan.

  And the last thing she needed right now was time on her hands.

  She knew that Callan was upset with her, and she certainly didn’t blame him. She was upset with herself. That silly charade to fool her aunts, and it was all for nothing.

  Well, not completely for nothing. A rush of heat coursed through her as she thought about her weekend with Callan. That never would have happened if they hadn’t pretended to be engaged. And no matter what, she would never regret making love with Callan.

  And she’d never regret falling in love with him, either.

  When she first realized how she really felt about him, she’d denied it, of course. Told herself that she’d confused making love with being in love. That it was just an infatuation.

  But she knew better. If nothing else, she was being honest with herself to admit that she was, in fact, in love with him.

  Hopelessly, deeply in love.

  At the sound of the doorbell, she dropped the grater, and it clattered into the sink. Her heart pounded in her chest as she wiped her hands on a towel and walked to the front door.

  Please don’t let it be Callan.

  She was too vulnerable right now. She’d do something foolish if it was him. Something insane.

  Something wonderful.

  And still she was disappointed when she opened the door and it wasn’t him. She was also surprised.

  “Cara?”

  “Hi.” Callan’s sister held a bouquet of red roses. “Mind if I come in?”

  “Oh, of course. I’m sorry.” Abby stepped aside to let her pass, caught the fragrant scent of the flowers. “Those are lovely.”

  Were they from Callan? Abby wondered and her pulse skipped.

  “I bought them for you.” Cara moved into the kitchen. “Do you have something to put them in?”

  Hoping that the disappointment wasn’t too evident on her face, Abby opened the cupboard under the sink and pulled out a cut-crystal vase. “You brought me flowers?”

  Cara unwrapped the clear plastic holding the flowers together, then arranged them in the vase. “I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

  “No, ah, I was just grating some carrots.”

  When the vase was filled with water, Cara set them on the counter and turned to face Abby. “Cal told me you quit.”

  Abby felt the blood drain from her face. “Well, yes. I turned in my resignation today.”

  “Why?”

  The same blood that had drained away now shot back up her neck to her cheeks. “I…well…I—”

  “Abby,” Cara said with a smile. “I’m the younger sister of four brothers. I had to learn early in life to say whatever it was I needed to say in the shortest time possible or I might not get a second chance.”

  How different their lives and families had been, Abby thought with envy. She’d always hated being an only child. “I just thought that it wasn’t… appropriate.”

  “Because you slept together?”

  Abby felt her breath catch. Was Callan already talking about what had happened between them? And how many other people had he told? “Did he—Callan tell you that?”

  “You two disappeared after your performance on Friday night—which, by the way, was amazing,” Cara added. “Then my brother doesn’t return any of my messages for three days, which isn’t like him at all.”

  Cara folded her arms and leaned back against the counter. “Before I got married and went to work for my husband’s foundation, I used to be a private investigator, did you know that? My skilled and uncanny powers of observation figured out exactly why Callan was too busy to answer my calls.”

  “Oh.” Abby put a hand to her throat and closed her eyes.

  “Just like I figured out that you’re in love with him.”

  Her eyes flew open. “I’m not.”

  Cara tilted her head and arched one brow. “I saw the way you looked at him, Abby. From one woman in love to another, you most certainly are in love.”

  Oh, what was the point in denying it? If nothing else, Abby found Cara’s in-your-face manner a refreshing change from her own uptight attitude. Maybe it would feel good to tell someone the truth for a change. She drew in a deep breath. “Yes, I am.”

  Cara smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere. So why did you quit?”

  She glanced longingly at the roses, reached out and touched one velvet-soft petal. “How could I be formal and polite and detached during the day, then sleep with him at night? That might sound old-fashioned, but to me it would feel…cheap.”

  “He’s in love with you, too, Abby.”

  Her pulse jumped at the very thought. She shook her head slowly. “It’s just sex,” she said quietly. “As wonderful as it is between us, it’s not enough for me. I couldn’t survive an—” she paused, then said quietly “—affair.”

  “I know Cal,” Cara said firmly. “And I know the look. He’s in love with you, all right, he just doesn’t know it. He’s pacing his apartment like a crazed animal right now, thinking he’s lost you, but he’s not quite bright enough to know what to do about it. What can I say?” she shrugged. “He’s a man.”

  Abby might have laughed if her heart wasn’t aching. Callan most certainly was
a man, she thought, and the memory of his hands on her body, his lips on hers, stirred the heat of desire in her blood.

  Cara rubbed her hands together. “So how much time do we have?”

  “Time?” Abby frowned. “Time for what?”

  “When is your last day at work?”

  “Monday. That’s seven more days.”

  Cara narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “We’ll have to move ahead to the accelerated plan.”

  “Accelerated plan?”

  “I’ll explain later.” She picked up the stub of a carrot. “You see this? That’s what we’re going to do to Cal. Grate him down to a nub until there’s nothing left.”

  Grate him down? She stared at the carrot, then looked at Cara. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

  “Three reasons.” She snatched up a fresh carrot and took a bite. “One is payback for every time that Callan and my other brothers decided I needed advice or assistance in my life. The other is because I love Cal, and I want to see him happy. If I didn’t believe that you were the woman for the job, I wouldn’t be here.”

  Cara took another bite of carrot and grinned. “And the third reason is that we are going to have a ton of fun watching my brother go slowly crazy.”

  Abby smiled. She was beginning to like the plan almost as much as she liked Cara.

  Cara glanced at her watch. “We’ve only got about three hours. Grab your purse and let’s go.”

  “Go? Go where?”

  “Shopping, my dear.” Cara slipped an arm around Abby’s shoulders. “We’re going shopping.”

  “Thirty-five years ago, when a man asked for finish-grade oak, he got finish-grade oak. These days I wouldn’t build a doghouse with the so-called high-quality wood these suppliers think they can pawn off on a builder.” Ray Palmer waved a thick-knuckled finger at the pretty redheaded waitress who’d brought their first round of drinks, and she hurried over.

  “Another scotch and soda.” Ray looked at his son, Jack, then Callan. “You boys ready for another round?”

  Callan shook his head. He’d been so busy watching the restaurant doorway, he’d barely touched his beer. He glanced toward the entrance now, feeling as if the tie he’d put on with his black dress shirt was strangling him.