by Judy Duarte - The Bachelor's Brighton Valley Bride (Return to Brighton Valley)
That meant they’d be working together—just the two of them. And for longer than she’d expected.
But there were more important things to worry about.
“Poor Don,” she said. “He really needs this job. You don’t think he’ll get fired for taking too much time off, do you?”
Peyton touched his nose again. He had this funny habit of running his index finger along the bridge of his nose as if he were pushing a pair of glasses back in place, even though he didn’t wear them. She’d noticed him doing it several times, and she found it kind of quirky—but cute.
When he caught her watching him, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t think he’ll get fired—or suffer too much financially by being off work. The company has a sunshine fund set up for situations like this. Plus, now it makes sense why things were going downhill over th... I mean, why we... Oh heck, you know what I’m trying to say. It just all makes more sense now. And I’m sure the corporate office will work with Don until he gets back on his feet and is able to take over running the store again.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm, what?” Peyton asked.
“Hmm, we’ll see about that. I’ve never really trusted big corporations. I’m a small-town girl. Everyone looks out for each other here. But out there?” Megan gestured toward the window that looked out at the big, wide world. “Companies like Geekon Enterprises don’t really look out for the little people. That’s why I’ve been so stressed about having you here. I worried you’d report back to them and tell them that Don and I needed to be replaced.”
Megan hadn’t meant to voice her fears out loud, but the adrenaline dump had kicked in, and she wondered if her and Peyton becoming a team during the emergency had made her feel more comfortable with him.
“What exactly would there be to report?” he asked.
“Oh, you know. That Mr. Carpenter has been a little scattered, that he’s had to take a lot of time off lately, that the paperwork isn’t organized. That he should be let go. But he really needs this job, as well as the medical insurance, even though it’s a pretty low-rate plan.”
Peyton tensed.
“I don’t mean to sound disloyal,” she said. “I’m sure Don is thrilled to have health insurance through the company. But just between you and me, it’s only going to cover the cost of Cindy’s basic treatments.”
“I hear that the plan is going to improve—and that their coverage is better than they thought.”
“I hope you’re right.” She offered him a smile. “Please don’t say anything to anyone back at the corporate office. I need my job, too. And while the shop hasn’t been running smoothly for a while, I’m trying to fix things. And now that you’re helping me get the new accounting system in place, everything should be back to normal soon—especially when Don gets off bed rest.”
Judging from the furrowed line between Peyton’s brows, Megan suspected that she’d unloaded way too much on the poor man. But goodness, what a relief it was to finally get it off her chest and to no longer feel as though she had to hide anything.
“I’ll make a few calls. I’m sure no one will lose their job over this. Besides, between the two of us, we can get the shop back in shape before Don gets back. That should make the big guys over at corporate take notice, right?”
Megan appreciated Peyton’s attempt to console her. Maybe he really was on her and Don’s side. She still didn’t trust corporations, though. But maybe she could trust him.
“That’s sweet of you to offer, Peyton.” She placed a hand on his arm, felt the corded muscles tense under her fingers, felt the heat of his body.
He looked down to where her hand rested on his arm, and she withdrew her fingers immediately.
She hadn’t meant to get so touchy-feely, especially since it appeared that he was taken.
Or that Collette certainly wanted him to be taken.
“Uh, is there a cab company or something in this town that I can call? I rode in the ambulance here and don’t have a way to get back to the shop.”
“Oh, my gosh! Of course. That’s another reason I’m here. I planned to give you a ride. Just let me go peek in on Don before we leave.”
“Okay, thanks. I have to make a few calls, so I’ll be over here in the waiting area.”
Megan remembered all those missed calls. “Oh, by the way, Zoe has been trying to reach you. I didn’t want to answer your phone. But after talking to Dr. Nielson, maybe I should have. I told everyone in the diner today about the sale on laptops, and since we had to close the shop down, Zoe has probably been getting a ton of calls.”
Peyton scrunched his face as if he’d just caught a whiff of a dirty bedpan.
“But don’t worry, Peyton. I’m sure she processed those orders from everyone who called and gave you credit for them. Just think, with that kind of boost in sales, those corporate bigwigs at Geekon might see you as more than just an accountant. They might even give you a promotion.”
“Lucky me,” Peyton said. “I might end up owning the company.”
Megan laughed. Imagine that. Peyton as the CEO. She’d never seen a picture of Clayton Jenkins, nor did she know anything about the man. But she could imagine what he’d be like if she ever did cross paths with him—too smart and greedy and highfalutin for his own good.
* * *
Clay stood in the hallway, his cell phone in hand, and watched Megan enter Don’s room. She was still chuckling over the thought of Peyton Johnson heading up the company someday, so he assumed she hadn’t uncovered his identity yet.
Apparently, Megan might be a beautiful, nurturing woman, but she wasn’t a snoop. He couldn’t say that about a lot of people who knew that he was actually Clay Jenkins, the CEO of Geekon Enterprises.
And he had to admit, if he were to make a note of Megan’s admirable qualities, the list would be growing.
While she checked in on Don, Clay walked into the empty second-floor waiting room to call Zoe.
His efficient executive assistant picked up on the first ring. “What in the world is going on over there?”
Had she already heard about Don’s collapse? He’d planned to inform her, but without his cell phone, he hadn’t been able to do so yet. Maybe LaRonda, the admissions clerk, had already contacted the home office and they’d alerted her.
“Don Carpenter, the manager of the Brighton Valley store, was rushed to the hospital,” he said. “The doctors are still examining him, so I don’t know any more than that right now.”
“I’m sorry, Clay. I didn’t mean to jump you the moment the phone rang, but I’ve been fielding calls right and left about the special promotion you’ve been offering all the locals. Caroline Jennings, who owns a diner, got my name from Megan Adams, the woman you had me talk to. Since the Brighton Valley store is closed, and Caroline wasn’t sure how long that sale was going on, she called me at the Houston office to order two computers. And she’s not the only one. Apparently everyone else in town wanted to take advantage of that special price, too. So she’s been passing out my contact information.”
“How many calls have you received?”
“I’ve lost count.”
“Sorry about that. I forgot how quickly word spreads in a small town. And since I rode to the medical center with Don, I’ve been out of the loop.”
“I know. Ray Mendez, the mayor, told me that Mr. Carpenter was taken to the hospital in an ambulance.”
“The mayor told you? How did he know about Don?”
“He’d talked to Caroline earlier, and she gave him my number. He placed an order for three laptops—two for city hall and one for his home. Then, after stopping by someplace called the Stagecoach Inn, where he met the E.R. doctor’s husband, he found out about Mr. Carpenter.”
“I had no idea—”
“You didn’t? At a hundre
d dollars a pop for that laptop? In the last two hours, I’ve talked to more people in that little town than you probably did in all the time you lived there.”
Clay had never told anyone, especially those who knew him now, about his shy, awkward and painful teenage years. But Zoe was probably right.
He ran a hand through his hair, mentally calculating how much profit he had blown by making that offer to Riley yesterday. Maybe he should’ve stuck with Megan’s cookie idea.
“Did you approve the sale for everyone who called?” he asked.
“Sure did. That’s what you asked me to do, wasn’t it? And so far I’ve put through all thirty-two orders.”
“Oh, wow.”
“I tried to call you to double-check, but you didn’t answer your phone. So I just rolled with the plan you’d set in motion.”
“No, you did the right thing. In the chaos of the 911 call and everything, Megan used my cell phone. She’s had it while I’ve been at the hospital.”
“So then she must have seen that Collette’s been hot on your trail this afternoon, too.”
Crap. Clay had forgotten about the text from Collette. He hoped Megan wasn’t nosy enough to read his messages. Or maybe she wouldn’t even care that another woman was sending him sexy invitations to reignite a relationship that had fizzled out months ago. But he’d need to deal with the supermodel before she became a problem.
“What did you tell Collette?” Clay asked, even though his assistant was the epitome of discretion and was under strict instructions not to divulge his whereabouts to anyone.
“I stalled her for the time being. But you know how she is. If you don’t call her back yourself, she’ll be in the office first thing tomorrow morning, paparazzi trailing behind her, demanding to know where you are.”
Zoe hit the nail on the head. As usual. Clay had first met the world-famous Collette d’Ante at a black-tie fund-raiser where he’d been the guest of honor. She’d moved in swiftly, letting him know she’d like to be more than a casual acquaintance.
He’d never had such a beautiful woman hit on him, and when she asked him out for an intimate dinner later that week, he’d agreed.
Collette had implied that she hated the fame and attention her career had attracted, and he’d thought he’d found a kindred spirit since he was on his own quest for financial success with social anonymity.
But when the paparazzi showed up at every restaurant or event they attended, no matter what he did to circumvent them, he realized they were being tipped off. And shortly thereafter, he’d realized that Collette, who made such sweet claims, hadn’t meant any of them. So he’d ended things with her before she got any ideas about becoming the first Mrs. Geekon Enterprises.
But apparently, she was under the impression that absence really did make the heart grow fonder, which wasn’t true in Clay’s case. She was too self-absorbed and way more trouble than she was worth.
And as Zoe had said, if he didn’t call her himself and tell her that it’s over meant over for good, she’d have every tabloid wolfhound scenting him out by tomorrow afternoon.
“I’ll deal with Collette. You handle the rest of the Brighton Valley laptop orders. I’ll cover the difference out of my own pocket. But no more sales after today.”
“Will you also cover the difference for all the overtime I’m going to make taking these calls tonight?”
“Zoe, you don’t get overtime. You’re on salary—and a very generous one, at that.”
“Okay, then you can just put it on my Fourth of July bonus check.”
“You don’t get a Fourth of—”
“Sorry, boss. There’s a call on the other line—no doubt with another laptop order coming in. Gotta go.”
The line disconnected before Clay could tell Zoe he also wanted to schedule a meeting with the person in charge of the company health-insurance plans. Oh, well, that would have to wait until tomorrow.
At the sound of shoes clicking upon the tiled hospital floor, he looked up to see Megan coming his way, her back straight and her chin up. Yet there was a lingering tension in her shoulders. This had to have been a stressful day for her.
Was she still afraid the corporate office would find out about Don’s failures and the store’s financial situation?
He wanted to rub those shoulders and tell her everything was going to be all right, that he’d make sure of it.
The smile she shot him was sweet and genuine, even if it was a little tired. “Ready?”
He was more than ready and wanted to tell her so, but he thought better of it. She was just offering to give him a ride back to the shop because she knew he was stranded—and because she was a nurturer. What else did he expect from a woman like her?
“Yep, all set.” He pocketed his phone and raised his arms up to stretch out his own shoulders and back.
Man, he could use a good run right now. And then a hot meal and a long sleep.
As they walked toward the elevator, an orderly turned the corner pushing an empty bed, and Clay instinctively reached out and wrapped his hand around Megan’s waist to pull her to the opposite side of the hallway.
She pressed into his side to allow the gurney room to pass. It seemed only natural to let his hand linger on her waist as they continued to the elevator door, his fingers resting along the curve of her hip.
She wore a blue sweater now. Underneath, was she still wearing the green blouse with the buttons that popped open?
It would be so easy to slip his hand underneath that blue woven fabric to feel for the green top that had given him such a lovely view earlier today.
When she leaned forward to push the call button, their bodies broke free from each other, which was for the best. If they were going to have to work alone together for the next week or so, he’d need to keep his hands and his eyes to himself.
They took the elevator to the lobby, where the after-work crowd had begun to stream into the hospital for visiting hours.
“If you haven’t picked up groceries yet for the apartment, I can stop at the market on the way back so you’ll have something to eat.”
“Don’t worry about me. You probably need to get home to your kids and feed them.”
“Actually, my kids are with Caroline. She watches them for me whenever I need a sitter. I called earlier, and she’s probably already fed them.”
“Have you had dinner yet?” Clay asked, trying to sound casual, as though he was merely asking her if she’d done the biology homework last night.
He didn’t want her to think he was asking her out on a date. Yet, more importantly, he didn’t want her to turn him down.
As they walked through the sliding glass doors and into the parking lot, he reached up to push his nonexistent glasses back up his nose before he remembered he wasn’t in high school anymore.
Hell, he had Collette d’Ante chasing after him, wanting to re-create some kind of relationship for all the world to see, but here he was, stumbling over his own feet in his attempt to get Megan to join him for dinner.
“No, I’ve been too worried about Don to eat anything. The hospital cafeteria is probably still open, if you want to go back in there.”
Clay had spent enough time in hospitals when he was a kid and his mother had bounced in and out of mental institutions. He tried to avoid them as much as possible, especially the cafeterias.
“Or we could stop by the Tastee Cone before I drop you off back at Zorba’s.”
Now, that was a blast from the past. The Tastee Cone, which was located between Brighton Valley and Wexler, had been the only fast-food joint around. So by default it was the hangout of choice for the local teenagers who had a few extra allowance dollars burning a hole in their pockets.
Clay had always enjoyed their food, but he’d never parked in the lot with the cool kids and their tr
icked-out cars and lifted trucks, blasting music, flirting with each other and chatting about who was taking who to homecoming.
“That sounds good,” he said. “But can we just eat there? I really don’t want to take anything to go.”
The truth was, Clay actually wanted to experience the Tastee Cone for once—just as all the popular kids had done back in the day. He wanted to sit out in the parking lot with a beautiful girl—who, he was willing to bet his Geekon trademark, had once been a cheerleader. And he wanted to drink an orange cream milkshake, listen to music and not have to worry about some football captain smashing a chocolate-dipped cone into his forehead, which was what had happened last time he’d braved the Tastee Cone during prime time.
“Sure,” she said as she popped the locks open on her car and they got in. “But that place can be crawling with teenagers, especially since today was the last day of school before summer vacation. There’ll be lots of music and revving of engines and all the stuff small-town kids do to show off in front of each other.”
Clay was counting on it. That’s what he’d missed in high school. And sweet, beautiful Megan would be right by his side.
As they drove down the rural highway that connected the two towns, he could almost imagine her in a cheerleader uniform, doing backflips, shaking her pom-poms....
They turned into the driveway entrance, and she pulled her car up to one of the covered parking spaces, where they could place their orders through the old-fashioned speaker system that was stationed at every other parking spot.
A couple of boys in the car next to them honked and yelled out to three girls who wore Brighton Valley High Pep Squad T-shirts.
“This place reminds me of high school,” Megan said.
“I have to ask,” Clay said. “Were you a cheerleader?”
She stared at him for a moment, her brow slightly scrunched as if wondering why he’d ask, why it would even matter.
