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- Teresa Southwick
One Night with the Boss Page 3
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Olivia held up the correct finger and hooked her friend’s. “Thanks, Mags.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m on your side. I know that you haven’t been happy lately.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Only to me. My brother is oblivious and charming in equal parts. He also has this annoying habit of getting everything to go his way. I’m not at all surprised you made up a boyfriend as a way out.”
“You’re not?”
Maggie shook her head. “A self-made man as prosperous as my brother didn’t get where he is without being determined. And having good people around him.”
As Olivia was one of his people, she said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. He also doesn’t like change and will do anything he can to prevent it.”
“No kidding. Today he interviewed several women who applied for my job and found deal-breaking flaws in all of them.”
“Because he doesn’t want to lose you.”
Olivia nodded. She knew she was good at her job. “The only reason he could come up with for not hiring either of the qualified applicants was that none of them were me.”
“Wow.” Maggie’s eyebrows rose. “So he does care.”
“It wasn’t personal.” But the words had had her heart going for a minute. Then reality had set in and she remembered the last five years of impersonal behavior. He was always friendly, but never asked her to dinner or a movie. There was never even a flicker of awareness or any sign that he’d wanted to kiss her. It was time to face reality. She had feelings for her boss that wouldn’t stop and the only way to go after the life she wanted was to ditch the job.
“I don’t think he believes that I’m serious about quitting,” Olivia said.
“So you had to do what you had to do.”
“Yes.” She sighed. “I hope you know that I’m not normally a liar.”
“You’re the most honest, straightforward person I know.” Maggie smiled.
“Thanks for understanding.”
“I understand more than you know. It’s not easy to let go.” Maggie glanced at a framed picture sitting on the end table beside her. The Tiffany lamp highlighted her handsome, smiling husband in his camouflage uniform and her eyes filled with a wistful, sad expression. “This isn’t making excuses for my brother, but you know that he took our father’s death pretty hard.”
“Who wouldn’t? I can’t even imagine losing my father.”
Maggie’s remote expression indicated she was remembering. “Brady had just gotten home from college for Christmas break and we were all looking forward to being together for the holidays. Dad had a heart attack and literally died in his arms.”
“I remember.”
“He was different after that. More aloof. Driven.” She shrugged.
Olivia hadn’t really seen that much of him then. They never talked or hung out and he went back to school. She only knew the now Brady, and he showed no sign of ever seeing her the way she wanted him to.
“He is the way he is, Mags, and I finally realized this isn’t about him. It’s about me and my life. If I don’t make the break now, I never will.”
“True enough. So, not only do I get why you fibbed, I will help you pull this off. I’ll back up your story.”
“You will?”
“Absolutely.” She raised her arm and curled her fingers into her palm. “Girl power.”
Olivia bumped her fist. “Females unite.”
“Brady will ask me about this and I’ll tell him how deliriously happy you are with...does he have a name?”
“Leonard.”
“Really?” Maggie’s lips twisted as if she’d sucked a sour lemon. “Not Lance? Stone? Or Indiana Jones?”
“Like I said...didn’t plan this. The falsehood was in no way premeditated or I would have come up with something romantic like...Jean Luc.”
“Okay. Leonard it is.” Maggie laughed, then turned serious. “Stay strong, Liv. Stick to your guns if it’s what will make you happy.”
Olivia wasn’t sure about future happiness, but she knew for a fact she wasn’t content now. The clock was ticking and she wasn’t getting any younger. Doing nothing wasn’t an option.
* * *
Ever since Olivia had left for the day, Brady had been battling the urge to go through her computer files and get more information on Leonard.
“The loser,” he muttered.
She’d left him no choice what with her tight-lipped lack of details. He was hurt, really. They were better friends than this. He would give her data about a woman if he got serious. Then again, he made it a point not to get serious.
Olivia was different. She deserved all the best things that life had to offer and it was incumbent upon him as her boss, and friend, to find out about this guy and make sure he was on the up-and-up.
Like a dieter looking at a seven-layer death-by-chocolate cake, he paced back and forth in her office, fighting the itch to search her files for Leonard-related information.
“What can it hurt? Who will know?” When his damned annoying conscience pointed out that he was better than this, he said out loud and with self-righteous defiance, “No, I’m not.”
He sat in her chair and hit the power button, then waited impatiently for the machine to boot up. It seemed to take forever. She should have told him she needed a faster computer. This was a waste of time and money. Finally it was ready and he clicked on the first file, which was data on her out-of-town trips. Where she’d met Leonard.
“The loser.”
She kept copious notes on everything work-related and her travel was no exception. He’d hoped to hit pay dirt right away, because the less time he spent digging, the less dirty he would feel. A man had to cover his backside, too. On the off chance his poking around was found out, there was plausible deniability. She wasn’t here; he needed a file. It was his story and he was sticking to it. But he was getting frustrated. Everything he saw was budgets, meetings, cost projections and troubleshooting.
The next step was her email, if he decided to go there. It wasn’t an easy choice, because that crossed into her personal life. Although now he knew that was probably where information on Leonard would be found. None of his business. Then again, she’d quit for personal reasons and was leaving him. That kind of made it his business.
“Okay, then. My motivation is quantified.” He clicked on her work email, which was password protected.
In case he ever needed files, she’d given him her core code word and the system she used to change it, one she could remember: her mother’s maiden name with the number of the current month and year. This was January, so he hit the one key, and it was an even-numbered year, so he entered it after Clark. In an odd-numbered year, it would have been before the name.
“I’m in,” he said triumphantly, even as he felt his conscience protest.
Patting himself on the back seemed a little excessive, since it wasn’t even a challenge. There was nothing the least bit stealthy or surreptitious about Olivia. She was open and honest, completely incapable of seeing the dark side to people. Otherwise she’d have seen Brady’s dark soul a long time ago. That also meant she couldn’t see anything bad in Leonard if it was there, which was why he was scanning her emails.
“Hmm. That’s weird.”
“What would that be?”
He looked up and Olivia was standing in the doorway. Crap and double crap, he thought. What would James Bond do in a situation like this?
Charm his way out of it.
“Olivia.” He stood up and gave her the smile that had always kept his mother from taking away his computer when he was in teenage trouble. “You’re looking especially lovely this evening.”
“Really?” One of her perfectly shaped eyebrows lifted. “I look exactly the
way I did all day and you never said a word about my appearance.”
“Speaking of that...” He walked around her desk and assumed a casual pose, leaning a hip on the corner. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I used my key and the disarmed security system chirped the way it always does. You must have been really wrapped up in something.”
“Ah.” Since she came and went at will, she needed the system code to deactivate. And he had been oblivious to the sound of the front door opening. Time to shift focus. “I was very comfortable giving you a key. You see? That’s how much I trust you. How can you expect the total stranger who replaces you to be entrusted with easy access to not only my home, but my company?”
Her purse strap slid down her arm and she readjusted it to her shoulder. “It’s about time you built a corporate office for O’Keefe Technology, Inc. with state-of-the-art security.”
She was right. He’d been talking about it for a while and had made up his mind to get the project started. The only reason he’d been dragging his feet was because that move would change everything—and he hated change.
“So, how is Maggie?”
“How did you know I saw your sister?”
Apparently helping himself to her computer made her suspicious about everything. “You told me you were leaving early to pick up a pizza to take over there.”
“Right. I forgot.” Wariness faded for a nanosecond before her eyes narrowed. “A slipup caused by the shock of finding you going through my computer.”
“Oh, that.” He glanced at it over his shoulder. “I was looking for your notes on the job applicants we saw today.”
“I’m efficient, but not quite that good. I haven’t input them yet. Why would you want anything that I might have jotted down?”
“Because I’m the boss.”
He shrugged, but that was more about hiding the shudder those words produced. That response was the equivalent of a mother’s final argument against a child who refused to take no for an answer. Plus her implied accusation was true and he needed something irrefutable to cancel out his devious behavior.
“You didn’t like any of the women you interviewed,” she pointed out.
“I might have been a tad harsh.”
“You don’t mean that.” Her tone challenged him to deny it.
She knew him too well. It was both a blessing and a curse. Time to change the subject yet again. “So, what are you doing back here tonight?”
“There’s some work I need to finish up and I forgot the file.”
“Don’t worry about that. It will keep until tomorrow.”
She shook her head. “That’s where you’re wrong. I need to wrap up everything I can in the next week.”
“And a half,” he added.
“What?”
“It’s a week and a half until your notice is up.”
“What a relief.” There was a touch of sarcasm in her tone. “And I thought there was nowhere near enough time to tie up a bazillion loose ends before my last day.”
“I have complete faith in your ability to do that.” Brady knew the file she wanted was on her desk behind him. But so was her email. So far he’d kept her from seeing it. “Go home and relax. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“Since when?”
“That’s a cheap shot.”
She sighed. “You’re right. It’s never been your management style to insist on overtime. This is my problem. I have a tendency to obsess about finishing up projects.”
“So, I’m giving you a dispensation. Take the night off and don’t think about the office.”
“Very generous of you,” she allowed. “But I feel an obligation to get as much done as possible for as long as I can.” She moved closer and started to walk around the desk.
Without thinking it through, Brady suddenly stood in her path and she walked into him. She put her hands on his chest and looked up, her eyes opening wide.
His fingers automatically curved around her arms, urging her even closer. She was wearing a coat, but it was unbuttoned and he could feel her breasts pressed against him. The sweet scent of her skin invaded his senses and he had the most insane desire to wrap his arms around her and kiss her until they were both out of their minds. This wasn’t the first time touching her had produced this reaction, but it was definitely stronger than ever before. Her full lips parted and there was a catch in her breathing that pointed toward her feeling the same kind of crazy he did.
She backed up a step and took a deep breath. “What is it you don’t want me to see, Brady?”
Damn. There was that knowing-him-too-well thing again and this time it was the curse part. Create a diversion. “What makes you think that?”
“This is me. The innocent act doesn’t work. You’re up to something.” She made a sudden move and sidestepped him.
She wasn’t really that quick; he was simply that slow. It’s what happened even to smart guys when blood flowed south of the belt. In the split second he’d been getting his breathing under control, Olivia was around the desk and staring at her computer monitor.
“This is my email.” There was outrage in her tone.
“It is.” What else could he say when caught red-handed? “But it’s my computer.”
“An employee has an expectation of privacy.”
Again he needed a distraction. “Is there something in it you don’t want me to see?”
“Of course not. But this is beneath you.”
He should have listened to that annoying voice of his conscience when it said something similar. But it was the bruised and betrayed expression in her blue eyes that was his undoing. He couldn’t stand it when she looked at him that way.
“Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this.”
“How could you?”
“In my defense, I want you to know that this is the first time. And it’s kind of your fault.”
“Oh, that’s a good one. How do you figure?”
“If you hadn’t been so stingy with details about Leonard...”
The glare instantly disappeared, replaced with an expression that was sheepish. Or guilty? “It’s my business.”
“So you said. But I’m concerned about you and what you’re planning to do worries me. Because of my company,” he amended.
“I don’t know whether to be furious or flattered.”
“Probably both.”
“I’d warn you not to do it again, but you are the boss. My files are your files.” She picked up the manila folder on her desk and met his gaze. “So what was weird?”
He realized she could teach him something about diversionary tactics. The question caught him off guard. “What?”
“When I walked in you were talking to yourself. Which, by the way, is the definition of weird,” she said. “But that’s not what you meant. You were referring to my messages. So, what did you find that was weird?”
He shrugged as if to say he’d forgotten whatever it was that had brought those words to mind. “Whatever it was is gone now.”
“Okay. And that’s my cue. I’m gone, too.” She turned and headed for the doorway. “See you in the morning, boss. And from now on I won’t be doing email here.”
“Okay.” He deserved that. “Night, Liv.”
She walked out faster than he’d thought those short but very lovely legs could go, obviously anxious to get away from him. Perversely, he realized that he was very much looking forward to seeing her tomorrow.
It had a lot to do with the fact that there was now a time limit on morning coffee with Olivia. Her warm smile when she asked how he was every day. The fragrance that she brought into the room with her, a chemical reaction created by her perfume interacting with her skin that made him acutely aware of her pre
sence. Knowing why didn’t make it any less potent when it happened.
But it wasn’t going to happen very much longer, and he didn’t like that one bit.
She had every right to be more furious than she’d been and that made him more curious, if possible. Brady glanced at the list of messages on the screen. There were some from her mom, dad and sister. Maggie had sent her a joke and a link to a cooking site. There was spam from shopping sites she’d browsed, but the weird factor hit him again.
“There’s not a single thing from the man you quit your job for, Liv. What’s up with Leonard?”
Chapter Three
At work the next morning, Olivia still couldn’t believe what Brady had done, although they had a nontraditional working relationship and she’d shared messages with him before. And, being a liar herself, she couldn’t afford to be sanctimonious and judgmental. Since she’d arrived an hour ago, the door to his office had been closed, and it was almost never closed. Maybe because she’d caught him in the act, he was sufficiently shamed into backing off.
One could hope. That way all she had to do was work out the remainder of her notice and the unfortunate incident would be behind her. There’d be no reason to speak about Leonard again.
What she had to do was put all her energy into finding her own replacement. Time was getting short and it wasn’t fair to throw some poor, unsuspecting woman into the deep end of Brady’s pool. So to speak.
Then a thought occurred to her. Her boss had found fault with every female candidate he’d met so far. Maybe she should look more closely at male applicants. Olivia threw herself into the search and lost track of time as she browsed internet employment sites and dissected résumés.
When the sound of the opening front door and the subsequent security system chirp drifted to her, she glanced at her clock and realized almost two hours had slipped away. Knowing the visitor was probably Brady’s mother or sister, both of whom had keys, she figured it was time for a break.
A few moments later Maureen O’Keefe appeared in the doorway with her fifteen-month-old granddaughter in her arms. “Hi, Olivia. How are you?”
“Great.” She stood and walked around her desk, smiling at the toddler. “Hello, Miss Danielle. You’re looking very pretty in your pink shirt and denim overalls.”