It was a question she should have anticipated, and Molly could have kicked herself for not having an answer prepared. To buy a little time, she leaned forward to pour cream into her coffee. “I can still do some of that work from here, you know. With faxes and overnight delivery services—”
He shrugged. “Easier yet to do it there. Besides, if people don’t see your face regularly, they tend to forget you exist.”
“But it’s less expensive to start a business here than in a larger city and to live till it gets off the ground. And my family offered help in the meantime.” The image of Alix looking at her watch as if she was starting a mental timer flashed into Molly’s mind, and she tried to shrug it off.
He didn’t look satisfied, but he didn’t press.
“And I have a little girl now,” she went on. “I didn’t want to raise her in the city, and this was the best time to make the move.”
Warren’s brow cleared. “That’s right. Your father told me your marriage didn’t work out. I’m sorry.”
Apparently, she thought grimly, there isn’t much my father didn’t tell you. “Thank you, sir.” She kept her eyes focused on the coffee tray. Would she ever be able to hear that damned divorce mentioned without feeling as if she was choking?
It’s part of the price of coming home, she reminded herself.
“When I lost my wife,” Warren mused. “Of course, it was a different sort of ache, but I expect the feeling of being abandoned is a fairly universal one, don’t you?”
The feeling of being abandoned... Molly could certainly identify with that, but the last thing she wanted was to be drawn into a discussion about it. “I’m sure you understand how painful it is for me to talk about.”
“Of course. There for a minute I forgot you’re not just Bernie Matthews’s daughter stopping by for a social chat.”
Molly forced herself to smile, to play along. “No, that would have been Megan.” She leaned forward to pick up the coffeepot. “Tell me about the changes at Meditronics since I left.”
“How long do you have?” Warren Hudson smiled. “That’s why we want to do this project, you know. Next year the company will have been in business for a century. Of course, the products we make have changed a great deal over that time, along with medicine itself. Now we’re not only producing medical equipment but support machines. Take our automated gatekeeper, for instance. We designed it to control access to certain areas in hospitals, but it works equally well for other purposes.”
“I was going to ask about that.” Molly flicked a fingertip against the laminated badge she wore. “What’s to prevent someone from typing in any employee’s name, getting a badge and wandering freely all over the plant?”
“You don’t think the machine’s that simpleminded, do you? It doesn’t issue a pass till it’s made sure the employee’s actually here and has authorized a visitor.”
“And how does somebody get in if they don’t know the name of the person they need to see? Or if they don’t have an appointment?”
“Oh, that sets off an entirely different routine. And before you ask what happened to our human security guards, we didn’t fire them. A couple of them retired and the rest moved into other jobs. Don’t you think the badges are nice?”
“I don’t think I’ll be ordering reprints of the photo,” Molly said wryly.
“That one’s certainly not its best work. By the way, the machine keeps those on file, too, so next tune you come, it’ll compare the two and make sure you’re really you.”
“In that case, I’ll have to remember to reproduce the grimace, or it’ll kick me out entirely because I look so different. You were just starting to tell me about the project you have in mind, Mr. Hudson. My father mentioned that you were looking for someone with publications experience, but he didn’t have many details.”
Warren settled deeper into his chair. “We want to use our hundred years of history to promote Meditronics. There will be things like updated sales brochures and new ads, of course, but we have an agency for that. What you’ll be doing is gathering and organizing the history of the company so the advertising and promotions people can choose the bits that will be most useful.”
What you’ll be doing. It sounded as if the job was hers, and some of the tension drained from the muscles in Molly’s neck and shoulders. She cautioned herself, though, about taking too much for granted. He hadn’t even asked to look at samples of her work.
“But what I’d really like to focus on is a book,” Warren said. “A nice, glossy hardcover—a complete history of the company that we could send out to all our customers.”
“A gift as we look forward to serving you for another century,” Molly mused.
“You’ve got the idea exactly—and it’s not a bad slogan. You’re sure you’re not an advertising specialist? What do you think, Molly?”
She could see the eagerness in his eyes. He didn’t look his age at all. In fact, he reminded her a little of Bailey when she’d just come up with a new scheme and was plotting to win approval so she could try it out.
He was the boss, Molly told herself. All she had to do was smile and agree, and the job would drop like a plum into her lap. And it wasn’t a bad idea.
Still...
She took a deep breath. “Good, as far as it goes.”
The gleam in Warren Hudson’s eyes diminished.
“Since books are solid and look valuable,” Molly went on quickly, “most people hesitate to discard them—so your book will hang around the customer’s office and remind him of Meditronics every time he sees it. But I wonder if that’s enough. A book may also lie there for years and never be read. If you were to create a video presentation, though—”
Warren shifted in his chair. “Trying to work yourself out of a job?”
Molly smiled. “Oh, no. I can do video, too—organize and write and supervise it, at least. And I’m not suggesting you do video instead of the book, but along with it. A video presentation would be more flexible. It could be carried around by your salesmen, used at conventions or sales expositions—and it could also be combined with the book into a slick gift package that nobody could throw away.” She was on a roll. “It wouldn’t be inexpensive, of course, but...”
“But we’re only old once,” Warren said, and grinned. “Now that’s my kind of attitude, Molly—taking an idea and making it better. In fact, I think there’s only one more thing to take care of before we make this deal official—”
He’d want to see examples of her work, of course. Molly reached for the portfolio at her feet.
From the outer office, through the half-open door, floated the sound of a masculine voice, and for a moment she felt as if every joint in her body had locked simultaneously.
But she couldn’t be hearing what she thought, she told herself. It was—it had to be—purely a trick of the imagination.
She’d already discovered in the four short days since she’d come home that simply being back in Duluth—driving down London Road, gazing across the lake, walking on the beach—had given new life to old memories. It was only reasonable that sitting in Warren Hudson’s office would make her think of his son. She should have expected that. And it was memory, not fact, that had made her think for an instant that Luke was just beyond that half-open door. He couldn’t be. He was half a continent away.
The man in the outer office spoke again, and Molly’s heartbeat slowed toward normal. This man’s voice was deeper than Luke’s, and richer somehow. The two weren’t really alike at all.
She picked up the calfskin portfolio.
“Oh, good,” Warren Hudson said. “I hoped Lucas would come in time to meet you.”
Her fingers went numb, and the portfolio slipped from her grasp. It tipped flat, and a slim catalog slid halfway out onto the carpet.
But he’s not even in Minnesota anymore, Molly thought. He’s a fully qualified doctor, and he’s in California It had been two years ago at least that her mother had written that Lucas Hudson
had gone to the West Coast for his internship, and Alix hadn’t mentioned him again after that
But that didn’t mean there’d been no more news about him, Molly realized, just that Alix hadn’t happened to think of it while she was writing her terse, dutiful, infrequent letters.
“Though surely you two knew each other,” Warren said, “before you left Duluth?”
Molly told herself firmly that she had nothing to be embarrassed about now. She was grown up, and what had happened years ago didn’t matter any more. So what if she’d had a crush on Lucas Hudson when she was a kid? So what if the way he’d told her to get over it had made her want to crawl under the nearest boulder and die? He’d probably believed he was doing her a favor.
In the long run, she thought, he probably had.
“He was more my sister’s age,” she said. Luke had been Megan’s friend, not Molly’s—that much was true. The fact that she was also being evasive was beside the point.
Warren didn’t seem to hear, anyway. “Lucas, my boy,” he called. “Come in here, if you’ve got a minute.”
The door swung slowly, silently open. It ought to creak, Molly thought—although, as far as she was concerned, there was no need for any theatrics to heighten the suspense.
The doorway was large, but it couldn’t dwarf the man who stood there with a herringbone tweed jacket slung over one shoulder, his other hand in his trouser pocket. Molly hadn’t seen him in years, but she couldn’t have missed him even in a crowd. She would never forget how tall he was, though he was broader of shoulder than she remembered. His hair was just as dark, just as thick, and it looked just as soft. He still resembled the athlete he’d been, his body perfectly balanced as if he might leap in any direction in the next moment.
And he was looking at her with casual interest in his hazel eyes. Eyes framed with lashes so long and dark and thick and curly that they were positively indecent.
Looking at her so casually that she wondered if he even remembered the day he’d lectured her about making a fool of herself over him.
Warren said, “Molly and I—you remember Molly Matthews, Lucas? I told you, didn’t I, that Bernie was sending her in to see me?”
“You did, Dad.” Luke came across the room. “And of course I remember Molly.”
His voice was both deeper and richer, and Molly could detect nothing but friendliness in his tone. She willed herself not to tremble as she offered her hand, and she succeeded. But even after the brief contact was over, she could feel the warmth of his fingers against her palm.
“Molly,” Warren said, “you haven’t forgotten my son, Lucas? He’s taken over the reins here at Meditronics, after that stroke I was telling you about.”
She didn’t flinch. She supposed she’d been preparing herself for that statement since she’d heard his voice in the outer office, knowing at some subconscious level that Luke wasn’t simply home for a visit.
“In fact,” Warren went on, “this whole history project is his idea—I’ve just agreed to oversee the process. Molly and I have been chatting about it, Lucas, and we’ve hit it off famously. So with your approval...”
Was Luke’s approval the one more thing Warren had been talking of? And if the history project was his idea, did that mean she’d be answering to Luke instead of his father?
It doesn’t matter, she told herself. The job hadn’t changed in the last ten minutes, only the boss had. But there was something else that hadn’t changed—she needed this job just as desperately as ever. If, in order to get it, she had to charm Lucas Hudson...
Then I’ll charm him, she told herself grimly. In fact, I’ll be so charming he won’t know what hit him.
CHAPTER TWO
BEFORE MOLLY could embark on her campaign, however—or even decide on a plan of attack—Warren Hudson said, with a note of self-congratulation in his voice, “She’s already come up with a much better idea than mine, too. Instead of just doing the book, Molly thinks—”
Hastily, Molly said, “Mr. Hudson, perhaps right now isn’t a good time for—”
“Does she, now?” Luke said gently. “Perhaps I should hear all about this exotic idea. And I see you brought samples of your work, Molly? I wouldn’t want to bore you, Dad, by making you sit through all this a second time. Why don’t I take Molly on into the conference room for a few minutes?”
“It’s no prob—” Warren began.
“You look tired, Dad, and I noticed Jason waiting with the car out front when I came in.”
Warren pushed himself from his chair. “You might want to practice tossing out hints, Lucas. There’s a knack to making them subtle, and you haven’t acquired it.” He closed the office door very firmly behind him.
Luke chuckled and sat on the arm of the chair Warren had occupied. “Now that’s a subtle hint. Closing the door, I mean, so that he didn’t actually have to say, ‘If you want to have Molly all to yourself, all you need to do is ask.’”
She felt a tinge of color steal into her cheeks, and to conceal it she bent to gather the catalog that had spilled out of her portfolio. Of course there was nothing more personal in his comment than a desire to ask a few questions his father might object to. She wondered, for instance, if he guessed that Warren hadn’t bothered to check out her work.
Be charming, she reminded herself. The trouble was she had no idea how to begin. In general, of course, being charming was no trouble at all, but this situation was like walking a tightrope. How much charm would be enough? Because if she applied too much, she’d look like...well, like a teenager with a bad crush. And that was an image she’d just as soon not bring into Luke’s mind.
“I brought along several different examples of my work,” she said. “Brochures, catalogs, an annual report to stockholders. Is there any type you’d like to see first?”
“Not particularly.”
Molly frowned. It was odd that he didn’t sound interested. “I didn’t think to bring a sample of my video work, but I could drop one off—”
Luke shook his head. “No, thanks. I haven’t time to sit and watch, and it wouldn’t make any difference anyway.”
But he’d said he wanted to see... No, she corrected herself. He’d implied—no doubt for his father’s sake—that he wanted to look over her portfolio. He hadn’t actually said anything definite.
And the fact that he didn’t seem interested in the caliber of her work didn’t necessarily mean he’d already made up his mind not to hire her, either. But Molly’s throat grew tight, and she had to work to keep her fear from creeping into her voice. “Then do you want to hear about my idea?”
“The one my father thinks is so brilliant? It’s not at the top of my list, no.”
Molly stared at him. He seemed perfectly at ease as he sat on the arm of the chair. She couldn’t detect so much as a twitch of nervousness, and he was obviously in no hurry to explain himself. His gaze was steady on her face, the hazel eyes narrowed slightly. She wondered for a moment if his eyes ever sparkled with delight any more, or if he always looked a bit suspicious.
She watched as he made up his mind, and she saw determination come into his face—jaw muscles tightening, eyes darkening—and she knew he was bracing himself for something he expected to be unpleasant.
Almost bitterly, she thought that Warren had been a long way off the mark. Luke could be very subtle indeed when he wanted to be—though Molly was having no trouble getting the hint.
She gathered her samples and slid them neatly into the portfolio, zipped it shut and stood up. “I suppose the polite thing to do would be to thank you for the opportunity to prove my fitness for this job, but since you didn’t give me that opportunity, Luke, I won’t bother.”
His eyebrows arched slightly. “Sit down, Molly.”
“So, since you’re not going to have to waste your time telling me that I won’t be working on your father’s project, won’t you at least take ten seconds to tell me why? Don’t you think I’ve grown up enough to handle the job, is that it?”
“Have you?” His voice was little more than a growl.
“I’ve certainly shed a number of idiotic illusions!”
“You had plenty of them to shed, as I recall. Now if you’ll stop jumping to conclusions and sit down...”
She forced herself to take a slow, deep breath, but she didn’t return to her chair. She clasped her portfolio in both hands and looked straight at him. “Well?”
“It’s interesting, however,” Luke mused, “that you picked up so quickly on the fact that I don’t want to give you this job.” He strolled to the window.
“Oh, that took great intuition.” She couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “Just because you had no interest in my ideas or my qualifications—”
Luke’s voice cut across hers. “Because not examining your portfolio or questioning your plans could just as logically mean the exact opposite—that I’d already decided you were hired, so your credentials didn’t matter a damn.” He turned to face her. “Couldn’t it?”
Molly felt as if she were choking. She’d really put her foot in her mouth this time. If there was a way to be more efficient at ruining her chances, she couldn’t imagine what it would be.
But she couldn’t have been so wrong, she thought frantically. The way Luke had looked at her wasn’t the way an employer viewed a successful candidate.
“The truth is,” Luke said, “I don’t want to give anyone this job. But since I have to hire someone, and my father seems to have his mind made up, it might as well be you.”
Molly stared at him, aghast. “Well, isn’t that just terrific? Your enthusiasm overwhelms me, Luke. I’ve never before been offered employment under such welcoming circumstances. I’m absolutely honored, but if I didn’t need this job—”
Her conscience whispered, This is how you define ‘charming’? Too late Bailey’s face flashed before her, creased in the silly grin her mother loved best, reminding Molly how important this was. No matter how reluctantly, he’d offered her the job. She told herself that was the only thing that should matter now—but she wasn’t quite convinced.
The Boss and the Baby Page 2
