Husband from 9 to 5

by Susan Meier

  Shaking his head at the unexpected turn of his thoughts, Jack rose from his seat to signal for her to join them. She gave him an odd smile, and almost seemed to hesitate, but then she picked up her pace and walked to the table.

  “Hi, everyone.”

  “Hey, Molly,” Bryce said, and pulled out the chair beside him for her to sit down. “Where were you?”

  Jack didn’t know why he was so curious, but he was. In fact, he was inordinately glad Bryce had asked the question.

  “I went home at lunch to pick up my mail, and I had gotten a package from my parents. So I thought I’d open it before I drove over.”

  “What was it? Cookies?” Sandy Johnson, the department secretary, asked with a laugh.

  “No,” Molly said, accepting the glass of beer Bryce had poured for her. “My parents aren’t exactly the cookies type.”

  “What type are they?” Rick Ingells asked, obviously interested. As far as Jack could tell, Rick, one of Barrington’s accountants, was the only out-of-department guest at this party. He wasn’t sure who had invited him and, with Rick’s sudden attention to Molly’s parents, Jack wasn’t sure he was glad the green-eyed, tall-dark-and-handsome accountant had joined them.

  “They’re more the computer, E-mail, fax and modem type.”

  “Oh. computer nerds,” Julie said dispassionately.

  Molly shook her head. “No. more the be-all-that-you-can-be type.”

  “Army?” Bryce asked, confused.

  Molly laughed heartily. “No. My parents are professional success consultants. They help people transform their lives.”

  “Sounds boring,” Julie said.

  “You know, I thought so until tonight.” Molly said, her gaze colliding with Jack’s, then skittering away again. “But tonight I’m kind of thinking that they’re on to something.” She glanced around once, quickly, then changed the subject. “Anybody order the pizza yet? I don’t want to drink on an empty stomach.”

  In spite of the way Molly switched topics, Jack hadn’t missed that slip. Molly’s problem seemed to have something to do with her parents. From the sounds of things, she might have had a running disagreement with them, but because of whatever it was they sent her in the mail she was starting to see things their way. Which was probably why she seemed happy. Ending a disagreement always brought a sense of relief. Coming to that conclusion. Jack wondered if he ever needed to talk with Molly about her problems, then he determined that he was going to stick with his first impression. She was the only member of his staff with whom he didn’t have a close, personal, big-brother type relationship. Tonight was the night he planned to work toward getting one.

  For the next twenty minutes Jack’s time was taken by Julie whose boyfriend was having a great deal of trouble keeping a job. Molly listened, almost jealously, as Jack guided her through steps that would assist her in helping her boyfriend pinpoint his best career options. But as the night wore on, as the pizza came and was eaten, Molly realized that Jack’s ability to be such a good friend to everyone in his department was part of what she loved about him.

  And she did love him. There wasn’t a soul on this earth who could tell her she didn’t. After more than four years of working with him, she knew her feelings.

  “Pool, Molly? Bryce asked, handing her a stick.

  She shrugged and rose. “Sure, why not?”

  Walking around the table gave her plenty of opportunities to look at Jack without him knowing she was studying him. This was her big decision night. Whether her parents intended to or not, they’d given her the clue to the rest of her life. After listening to their tape Molly realized she could take their strategies and bolster her professional life, or she could take their strategies and give one last effort to making her real dream—marrying Jack Cavanaugh—come true.

  Now all she had to do was choose her direction.

  Even as preoccupied as she was, Molly handily beat Bryce. But she didn’t really want to play pool. She wanted to make a decision. When Jack rose and offered to play the next game, she deftly relinquished her stick.

  She wasn’t exactly sure, but as she headed back to the table she thought she heard Jack swear under his breath.

  After Bryce broke, then missed his next shot, Jack made a production number out of taking his first shot, strutting around the table, analyzing the lay of the balls. Gnawing her bottom lip, Molly watched him. He’d removed his suit coat, unbuttoned the top button of his white shirt, loosened his tie and rolled his sleeves to his elbows. The light from the lowhanging fixture above the pool table threw shadows across his handsome face, making him appear outrageously sexy. If Molly didn’t already know that the heart of a wonderful, generous, compassionate man beat in his powerful chest, she probably would have thought him a rogue. He simply had the looks for it. Dark. Forbidding. So sexy, her heart skipped a beat.

  Right then and there she made her decision. She was going for it. Dam it. Her parents’ tapes boldly proclaimed that if she could see it, she could be it. They clearly stated that if she could visualize herself achieving her dream, she would achieve it.

  Well, her dream wasn’t to climb a corporate ladder, which was the typical goal of the audience they planned to reach. But her dream wasn’t any more ridiculous than a mail room clerk wishing to become company president.

  And she was at a crossroad. Instinct told her it was now or never. So, ridiculous as it might seem, she was going to visualize. If her parents were right, all she had to do was create a scenario in her head that manifested the four most important steps to achieving her goal. To Molly that meant she first had to conjure a scenario where Jack would actually notice her as a woman. Then she’d have to envision what their first date would be like. Then she’d have to see their first sexual encounter. Then, finally, she’d have to imagine her wedding day.

  Still uncertain, she glanced over at the pair at the pool table, Bryce and Jack. Unexpectedly, she caught Jack’s gaze and he smiled, then winked.

  Well, if that wasn’t confirmation that she should go for it, Molly didn’t know what was.

  She returned his smile tentatively, took a deep breath, then leaned back on her chair. Though her eyes were open, she focused on the pictures forming in her brain.

  She concluded that if Jack was ever going to notice her as a woman, it wouldn’t be at the office. No. They had too much history there. If he hadn’t seen her as a woman in that setting, he never would. So, in her mind she reasoned that he had to come to her apartment to drop off a file. She would open the door wearing only pajamas and her pink satin robe—another gift from her parents. At first Jack would be uncomfortable, but soon Molly would realize that his discomfort wasn’t from being at her home, but rather from her scanty outfit.

  She wasn’t sure it was appropriate to make her visualization so risqué, but the first time a man notices a woman as a women, things would be a little heated, so there really was no way around it. Maybe it was time to jump to the first date?

  Okay. Jack sees her as a woman, so he asks her out. They have a nice, quiet dinner at a dark, moody restaurant. Everything goes smoothly. They laugh. They talk about deep, personal subjects. And when they settle in Jack’s car to go home, Jack reaches over and pulls her to him for a kiss. But just the touch of his mouth on hers sets her lips on fire, and before she knows what’s happening they’re both drawn into a whirlwind of passion. Their tongues entwine. His hand accidentally brushes across her breast....

  Yikes! That had tipped toward X-rated.

  Taking a deep breath, Molly brought herself back to the present in time to see Jack striding toward the table. He walked to her seat, placed his hand on her shoulder and, gazing directly into her eyes, said, “Why don’t you and I shoot a game of pool?”

  Molly could have sworn her heart stopped. It was the first time in four years he’d touched her so intimately. He’d touched her to get her attention, to help her stand or to make a point, but he’d never touched her while gazing into her eyes, particularly
not when his eyes held a special glow that drew her in and created a sort of intimacy between them. If she didn’t know better, Molly might think her visualizations were reaching him telepathically.

  Or maybe her parents were right. Maybe in visualizing, she was beginning to see things that were always there but that she never acknowledged because her own inhibitions were preventing her from believing what she considered to be impossible.

  She cleared her throat, ready to take Jack up on his offer, but Julie Cramer interrupted. “I want to play pool,” she said, whining.

  In that second, it seemed as if time stopped. Molly peeked at Jack. Jack sent a smoldering glance to Molly. He gave her a look that told Molly in no uncertain terms that the night wasn’t over for them.

  Her breath caught.

  Jack faced Julie.

  “Sure. You and I can play a game, but next time around. Molly and I play.”

  “Yeah, right, whatever,” Julie said, rising from her seat to walk to the pool table.

  Molly almost fanned herself. That was the closest, the absolute closest, she and Jack had ever come to a personal encounter. And though it seemed utterly ridiculous, Molly had nothing to credit for this turn of events except her visualization.

  Wild horses couldn’t have kept her from completing her experiment now.

  Deciding that the train of her thoughts was too unruly to handle imagining their first sexual encounter, Molly skipped ahead to imagining their wedding. First, she carefully chose her gown. White satin, sequins, seed pearls and a twenty-five-foot Italian lace train—what was the point in having rich parents if she couldn’t have a great gown? Then she visualized Jack in a trim black tux. His white shirt would have black onyx studs for buttons. His slightly curly brown hair would be perfect that day. His eyes would hold a mysterious, devilish shine that would send her messages the whole way through the ceremony.

  They’d have the reception in the Beverly Hills Regency. And she’d indulge her parents by letting them invite every person they knew. The ballroom would be filled to capacity with smiling well-wishers, but she and Jack would only have eyes for each other....

  “Care to dance?”

  Even with the light tap on her shoulder, Jack’s interruption startled Molly so much, she nearly gasped.

  She drew a shuddering breath to regain her equilibrium and twisted on her chair to look at him. Again his eyes held that odd shine. His expression took her right back to their wedding. The Italian lace. The Regency. And the look that held so much promise...

  “Dance?” she croaked, abruptly yanking herself out of her fantasy because she was starting to confuse it with reality. “I thought we were going to play pool?”

  He grinned sheepishly. “I lost the pool table. Two hustlers from the bar took me for three bucks and got control of the table when they beat me.”

  Molly couldn’t help it; she smiled. He was so damned cute when he was embarrassed. And they were going to dance. Not play pool. She didn’t know what magic there was in visualization, but whatever it was, it was working. Any day of the week, dancing was preferable to playing pool. The force was definitely with her.

  “I’d love to dance.”

  Jack took her hand and guided her toward the small section near the jukebox—between the pool table and the bar—that had been cordoned off for dancing. Two other couples huddled together, swaying to the music, so Molly didn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable. She also noticed that she must have daydreamed most of the night away because everyone from the advertising department had disappeared—probably gone home.

  Which was even better, Molly determined, as Jack pulled her into his arms. Now she didn’t have to worry about anyone gossiping.

  Content, Molly snuggled against Jack’s shoulder and simply enjoyed. He was warm, he was strong, he was everything a woman could want in a man. If she were going to visualize being married to him, cuddled in his arms was exactly where she’d want to do it.

  Mrs. Jack Cavanaugh, she thought, using the name like an affirmation, another trick from her parents’ tapes. They believed that if you wanted something, all you had to do was say it aloud, as if it were real, and eventually it would be real.

  Mrs. Jack Cavanaugh. She thought it again, this time smiling, thinking about their life together, their kids and the million memories they’d make in a lifetime.

  Mrs. Jack Cavanaugh...

  In the middle of her last affirmation, a loud commotion broke out. Her thoughts disturbed, Molly moved away from Jack’s shoulder and saw that the two men at the pool table were shouting obscenities at two men trying to make their way to the bar. Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, one of the pool hustlers leapt over the pool table, obviously intending to head off the two men striding toward the bar.

  For Molly the scene played in slow motion. She saw the man leap over the table. She realized he’d jumped too hard and was coming toward her. She tried to get out of his way.

  But it was too late.

  Chapter Two

  The jumper actually only grazed Molly, but he was moving with enough momentum that he knocked her off balance and she tumbled backward. As she fell, she bumped her head on a nearby table. Jack desperately attempted to catch her. but he failed and she dropped to the floor. Within seconds, the entire population of Mahoney’s gathered around them.

  “Oh my gosh! Molly,” Jack said, sliding his arm under her shoulders so he could raise her head from the cold linoleum. “Molly!”

  With everyone’s attention centered on Molly, the pool player who had jumped over the table scrambled out the door. If Jack hadn’t been so concerned about Molly, he probably would have darted after him. But right at this minute, his most important duty was taking care of Molly.

  “Molly,” he called again, urgently.

  She moaned softly, then weakly said, “I’m all right.”

  Because Jack didn’t think she’d been knocked unconscious, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Molly, can you sit up?”

  “I’ll get her a glass of water,” the bartender volunteered and scurried away.

  “I’ll help you get her to a chair,” one of the patrons said.

  “Thanks,” Jack said, but he easily lifted Molly himself and carried her to the closest seat, the crowd parting for him as he walked through.

  “What happened?” she asked groggily as he sat her down.

  “One of the guys playing pool pushed you and you fell,” Jack said, hunkering down beside her chair. “You grazed your head on a table but I don’t think you fainted.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Here’s the water,” the bartender said, handing Jack the tell glass.

  Jack held it to Molly’s lips. “Drink this.”

  She drank two small sips then turned her face away. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re surge?” Jack asked skeptically. Because she hadn’t taken too much of a fall, Jack knew she probably wasn’t seriously injured, but she didn’t seem like herself, either.

  “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  Narrowing his eyes for a better look, Jack said, “You know what? You might be okay, but I think it would be a good idea if I drove you home tonight.”

  Molly gave him a blank stare. “Yeah. Right. Whatever.”

  Oddly enough, she sounded like Julie, the receptionist, and Jack winced. He’d heard stories about the power of suggestion and he’d hate to think that a bump on the noggin would change his supercompetent employee into an empty-headed whiner who thought only of herself.

  After gathering Molly’s purse and paying the tab, Jack guided her to his Blazer. Once he had her settled inside, he ran over to her car to make sure it was locked. As he suspected, detail-oriented Molly had taken all possible precautions to ensure the safety of her Lexus. Moving away, he patted the shiny white door and even spent a second admiring the beautiful pale leather interior, but as he hurried back to his Blazer it suddenly struck him that a Lexus was a very expensive car f
or a person who earned the salary he knew Molly earned.

  He decided that was none of his business, opened his car door and jumped inside. “Still okay?” he asked, smiling over at Molly.

  “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  Her speech wasn’t slurred. Her eyes weren’t overly bright or darkened by dilated pupils. She didn’t appear nauseated. Clearing all those hurdles pretty much indicated that she didn’t have a concussion. Still, Jack couldn’t help but think something wasn’t quite right. He simply couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “Buckle your seat belt,” Jack said. then drove onto the street. From his peripheral vision, he noticed Molly had a little difficulty with the seat belt. But since he knew most people had trouble with that seat belt, he chose not to give that one thing more weight than it deserved. Unfortunately, when he got to the intersection and realized he didn’t have a clue of where Molly lived, he glanced over and discovered Molly was sound asleep.

  “Molly,” he called softly.

  She didn’t answer.

  He increased the volume slightly. “Molly?”

  “What?” Her answer was gruff but strong. The fact that he could wake her meant she hadn’t fainted, but fallen asleep. She didn’t sound injured, merely tired. And why not? They’d killed themselves trying to get that layout out this afternoon.

  Studying her angelic face, softened by sleep and bathed in the light of a street lamp, Jack knew he had two options. One, wake her and get her address. Two, take her to his house, let her get the rest she obviously needed and keep an eye on her through the night to be sure she truly was okay.

  Actually, he liked the second option. She was tired. She had been out of sorts for the last few weeks and she needed rest. And he sincerely did want to be sure she was okay.