Crazy About The Boss Page 6

  She shrugged. “Just a noncommittal response to let you know I’m listening. It’s supposed to encourage you to continue talking.”

  “I don’t want to talk.”

  “How do you feel about listening, then?”

  “Depends on what you have to say.”

  “For starters, that pickup line from Jack Valentine the early years really stinks.”

  The grin he flashed warmed her faster than the brandy. It was the same grin from the same man she’d known for over two years but, like oxygen deprivation, after kissing him the potency factor had increased exponentially.

  He rubbed his eyebrow. “Do you want to talk about being a vulnerable teenage girl?”

  “Not even for money.”

  “Okay, then, let’s agree to put the past to rest.”

  “Not so fast. I do want to talk about Max’s suggestion that you see your father.”

  “I had a hunch you would.” Jack leaned back and settled his arm across the back of the sofa. The casual pose was at odds with the dark, restless, reckless look in his eyes.

  “The thing is, Jack, you have to go.”

  “Actually, I don’t.”

  Maddie figured this wasn’t much different from taking sides when they had a difference of opinion about business. She decided to approach it the same way.

  “Then tell me why you’re so opposed to seeing your father after coming all this way.”

  “Besides the fact that we had a falling-out?”

  “That was twelve years ago. Don’t you think it’s time to get past it?”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “Why wouldn’t you?” she asked.

  “I already told you.”

  She tapped her lip. “You said he was unfaithful to your mother with many women and a workaholic who ignored his family,” she said. “That’s in addition to the falling-out for which I have no specific details.” She sipped from her glass and felt the burn in her throat. “Care to tell me what happened?”

  Jack abandoned the casual pose and stood. “Just drop it, Maddie.”

  “No.” She swallowed the last of her brandy, then set the snifter on the coffee-table.

  “I’m ordering you to lay off the subject of me and my father.”

  She stood and crossed her arms over her chest as their gazes locked. “No.”

  His mouth pulled tight as something flared in his eyes. “Disobeying a direct order is insubordination.”

  “If this was about work, I’d agree. But it’s not.”

  “Exactly. It’s not business. So why are you getting involved?” The edge in his voice was sharp enough to cut glass.

  “You involved me when you insisted I come along on this trip.”

  And Maddie wished she’d been smart enough to say no then. Everything she’d thought she knew about Jack was changing. He was far more complicated than she’d given him credit for and that was frustrating and fascinating in equal parts. Frustration with Jack wasn’t new, but she didn’t want to be fascinated by him. He was too much like the guy who’d hurt and humiliated her.

  She could overlook her attraction to Jack when she painted him with the same brush as the jerk who’d pretended to care for her. But because she’d come along on this trip, she was learning things about Jack. He had a past filled with secrets. He was pushing away the family reaching out to him. The more she learned, the more determined she was to help him reach back.

  Jack stared at her. “I wanted you here because I had business and I rely on your advice.”

  She chose to ignore the “business” qualifier. Whether he wanted to or not, he was going to listen to what she thought he should do with his family.

  “Here’s my advice,” she said. “Invest in Bella Lucia. You’ll get more than money in return.”

  “I don’t want more than that.”

  “Money doesn’t keep you warm at night,” she blurted out, regretting her phrasing almost instantly. Jack was never at a loss for a woman to warm his bed, and that bothered her.

  “That’s true, but it buys lots of blankets.”

  “It’s family,” she protested. She thought about what he’d said to Max, but Jack had always been about building a business, not tearing it apart. “How can you even think about breaking up the restaurants and selling them off in pieces?”

  “Because in this case the pieces are worth more than the whole.”

  “You can’t look at this from a professional level. It’s obviously personal. You might make more money, but it could cost your soul.”

  “My father cut out my soul twelve years ago. If I buy it back, it will be on my terms.”

  Jack’s eyes glittered dangerously and Maddie shivered. “You need to talk to your father.”

  Two people alone in a room were like a blank computer screen. If you sat in front of it long enough, there was a good chance you’d put something on it. If Jack and his father were forced to face each other, they would talk about the past and iron out their differences.

  “What if I don’t want to?” Jack asked.

  For just an instant she got a flash of the stubborn little boy he must have been. Charming and strong-willed, he had probably given his parents fits. He was still charming and strong-willed and giving her fits. One had to be strong to handle him. If one wanted to handle him, which Maddie most definitely did not.

  “If you refuse to listen to my advice, I plan to involve myself incessantly until you do talk to him,” she warned.

  He shot her an obstinate glare, took her measure and apparently decided she wasn’t bluffing because finally he nodded. “Have I ever told you how annoying I find you?”

  “The feeling is mutual.”

  Maddie hoped a meeting would put things right because she found herself between a rock and a hard place. She didn’t like loose ends and couldn’t go until Jack made some attempt at peace with his family. But if she didn’t return to New York soon, finding him annoying would be the least of her problems.

  That kiss could become a big problem if they were here too much longer. She wasn’t sure she could resist if he turned into a stubborn man who wanted her.

  Jack looked at his father’s large white stucco town house in South Kensington. Leaving the bad memories behind hadn’t been easy and he wasn’t looking forward to the reminders he knew were inside. But he’d seen Emma, Max and shown Maddie some of London. He’d get this face-to-face over with then take his stubborn assistant back to New York so they could both be home for New Year’s Eve.

  Maddie pressed the bell, then glanced at him. “This might be easier if you didn’t look as if you’re going to your own execution by firing squad.”

  Her wry expression and trademark tartness almost made Jack smile. He trusted her, in spite of the fact that she was the one who’d insisted he call his father.

  The door opened and a slim, petite brunette stood there. Her green eyes assessed them seconds before a friendly smile brightened her face. “You’re early. If you’re Jack.”

  “I am, yes. And you are?”

  “Melissa Fox. I guess we’re sort of related since my mother married your father.”

  Maddie quickly stuck out her hand. “Maddie Ford. Jack and I work together.”

  “A pleasure.” Melissa shook her hand. “Mum and Robert are expecting you. Please come in.”

  She stood back and they entered a wide foyer just off the living room. At that moment a buxom blonde in an emerald-green lounging outfit descended the stairs with a small white dog in her arms. The woman’s hair fell just past her shoulders and was stick-straight.

  She crossed the foyer and held out her hand. “I’m Beverley. And you must be Jack. You look a lot like your father.”

  No need to ask if that was good or bad. He already knew the answer. “Hello.”

  “Mother, this is Maddie,” Melissa said.

  “It’s nice to meet you both.” She held up the dog. “And this is Saffy.”

  Jack refused to shake the dog’s paw.
He had limits, ones even Maddie couldn’t prevail over.

  Melissa grabbed the coat slung over the banister. “I’m glad you’re early so I had a chance to meet you.”

  “You won’t be joining us for dinner, Melissa?” her mother asked, stroking the dog.

  “Sorry. I’ve got plans.” She shrugged. “I hope we’ll see more of you, Jack,” she said, opening the front door.

  Not if he could help it.

  Beverley frowned at the door her daughter had just closed, then turned a smile on them. “Why don’t we have drinks in the living room?”

  “I just want a few minutes with my father.”

  Her smile faltered but she recovered quickly. “Robert is probably in his game room.”

  Jack remembered it. “I know the way.”

  “We’ll join you,” Beverley said.

  “Why don’t we let the men talk?” Maddie brushed a hand over the dog’s head. “I’d love for you to show me around, Beverley.”

  The other woman looked doubtful. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely,” Maddie confirmed.

  Jack agreed because he didn’t want Maddie to witness another unpleasant scene and didn’t doubt that was what would happen. It was his father after all.

  Jack stepped into the living room and it was like a walk down memory lane. The Bohemian rugs scattered over the carpet had belonged to wife number one—Georgina. Diana—wife number two—had been into American kitchens. The O’Briens’ Irish coat of arms hung on the wall—a memento of wife number three: Cathy. His mother.

  Before the grinding resentment took hold, he noticed the life-sized ceramic tiger, panther and giraffe. Since he didn’t remember them, they must reflect the questionable taste of wife number four. Dominating the room was a glass coffee-table resting on four gold elephants and he couldn’t quite suppress a shiver as he moved through the room. No wonder his father was happiest in the game room.

  And no wonder Jack was alone. He’d grown up in a house that was like a museum to bad relationships. It didn’t take a PhD in psychology to understand that he always broke things off with a woman before anyone’s heart was seriously damaged. With Jack it was all about wining and dining and fun. Then he was gone before he could destroy a woman the way his father had his mother. He wouldn’t put a woman through that.

  Winding his way through the house, Jack followed the faint smell of chlorine to the indoor pool. The air was humid and the windows fogged with moisture where they met the cold outside. Robert was sitting in a lounge chair by the pool—with a glass of whiskey beside him and a cigar in his fingers. He was dressed in slacks and a pullover sweater with the white collar of his dress shirt sticking up at the neckline. When the older man saw him, he smiled.

  “Hello, son.” He stood. “You’re early. Why don’t we go into the living room and have drinks before dinner—?”

  “No.” Jack ignored his father’s outstretched hand.

  Robert looked momentarily surprised, but nodded. “All right. I can get you something from the bar.” He indicated the game room, separated from the pool by French doors.

  “Don’t make this into a social occasion.”

  His father frowned. “What’s more social than a son coming home?”

  The anger knotting inside him was familiar and welcome. “Since when am I your son? As I recall, you wanted nothing to do with me because no son of yours could be so incompetent.”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “I screwed up,” Jack said bluntly. He was itching for a fight. He could feel it clawing through him.

  “You were young. I said some harsh things. You said some harsh things.” He shrugged.

  “Yeah.” Jack still remembered calling his father a son of a bitch and it hadn’t made him feel any better.

  “That wasn’t the first time we had words. But there was something different that night. What was it, Jack?”

  He’d covered for his mother because there had been no one else to protect her, but he was surprised his self-absorbed father had noticed anything out of the ordinary.

  “The difference was that I realized nothing between us would ever change.”

  “Why did you disappear, Jack?”

  “Why didn’t anyone look for me?” he countered.

  “I hired a private detective,” Robert said.

  That stunned him, but he hid the reaction. “Oh?”

  “He located you and confirmed that you were in good health.”

  Jack found that hard to believe. “Right.”

  “The man reported back to me that he’d tracked you down where you were living in a despicable little room in New York. You were working as a busboy in a restaurant that I can’t remember the name of. Quite a comedown, my boy.”

  Jack remembered the room—rats and bugs and yellowed walls. He’d cooked on a hot plate or survived on peanut-butter sandwiches. Or brought food from Gimme Sum—the Chinese restaurant where he’d worked. When he’d had no money, he’d learned where meals were served at a rescue mission. And every moment had been consumed with proving his father wrong, proving that he would be a success.

  “I’m not your boy. And I was never contacted by a detective.”

  Robert tamped out his cigar in the ashtray on the wicker table beside his lounge chair. “His orders were simply to find out where you were. Clearly you wanted your space. You knew where the family was. If you needed help, you only had to ask.”

  Jack curled his hands into fists as anger swelled. Come crawling back? No way. “Is that your segue into asking for money to bail out your failing business?”

  Something flashed in Robert’s eyes. “If it were mine it wouldn’t be failing. My brother got us into this fix. John covered for his son the embezzler.”

  That confirmed what Max had said. “So it’s all Uncle John’s fault for helping his son?”

  Robert’s mouth pulled tight. “If your uncle had the same connection and commitment to the business that I do, he’d have found another way. My father started that restaurant for my mother, not his. John always resented that.”

  Ironic, Jack realized, that he and Max had different mothers yet had maintained a warm relationship in spite of their competition and desire to please their father.

  Robert set his whiskey on the glass-topped table beside the ashtray. Cigar smoke still hovered over it. “Just think, Jack. If you invest the needed capital it will give us an edge. We can run the company. Father and son.”

  “Ease Uncle John out?” Jack asked, struggling to keep his voice bland. “What about Max? And Emma?”

  “She’s the Queen of Meridia now. I think her days as a chef are behind her. And Max wants what’s best for the business.”

  That was probably true about Emma. But the Max Jack remembered wouldn’t like the idea of squeezing out a family member who’d worked his whole life in the business.

  “What do you say, Jack?”

  “Would you really trust me with controlling interest?”

  Robert’s gaze narrowed. “Why shouldn’t I?”

  “Because I could take it apart and destroy you.”

  “Is that what you’re planning?”

  “What would you do in my place?” Jack demanded.

  His father had the reputation of being a brilliant businessman and Jack had been told he was like him. His father was a cold-hearted bastard who would screw anyone—even family—for the sake of the business. Was Jack like that, too?

  “Never mind. I don’t want to know.” Jack saw the surprise that flashed in his father’s eyes, then turned away and left the room. He found Maddie where he’d left her in the foyer with Beverley.

  “Jack?” Maddie’s blue eyes filled with concern when she looked at his face.

  “We’re leaving,” he said curtly.

  “But—”

  “Now.” He was in no mood for more of her advice. Taking her arm, he led her to the door.

  “Nice to meet you, Beverley,” she said over her shoulder as he hustled
her outside. “Give Robert my regards.”

  When they were back inside the town car, she turned on him. “That was rude.”

  “Quite.”

  “What happened with your father?”

  “He said with my money and his brains we could rule the world as father and son.”

  “Don’t be sarcastic,” she said. “Tell me what really happened.”

  “I told him what I would do with controlling interest in the business.”

  “But, Jack, you don’t mean—”

  He held up a hand to stop her. “I’m not in the mood for you to defend him. Have I ever told you how obnoxious I find this glass-is-half-full attitude of yours? Why can’t you just hate him like I do? Just on general principle?”

  “That’s just silly.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know him. And neither do you. Not any more.”

  She was right about that, Jack thought. And he didn’t want to get to know Robert Valentine. He was afraid he’d find out more to hate about himself.

  In spite of what he’d said, most of the time he liked Maddie’s attitude. It balanced him. Balanced him right into this disastrous meeting with his father. He couldn’t think of anyone besides Maddie who could have talked him into coming here. At least it had taken his mind off kissing her. Ever since that kiss, he’d felt his attraction growing stronger.

  It was time to get back on familiar ground. Now that he’d seen his father, they could go home. They could resume their comfortable working relationship and life would be good again.

  After instructing the driver to take them back to Durley House, Jack looked at Maddie. “I’m going to have the company plane ready in the morning to take us back to New York.”

  “But—”

  He held up his hand. “I’m ready to go.”

  “Not so fast, your lordship. There’s something I forgot to tell you.”

  He had a bad feeling he wasn’t going to like it. “What?”

  “Emma called earlier. She invited us to a New Year’s Eve party at the Meridian Embassy in London. I accepted on your behalf.”

  “You’ll just have to un-accept.”

  “But I really want to go. I’ve never been to an embassy, let alone a party there. You should know that I’m prepared to go by myself, even if it looks weird to not have a date. Before you answer, give it some thought.”