Sandra Marton - The Bedroom Business

Jake got to his feet. “Or something.” He came forward and the men shook hands. They’d never been close friends but it was great to see someone from the past. “Why didn’t you call me? If I’d known you were going to be in town, I’d have rolled out the red carpet.”

“Didn’t know it, until the last minute.” Pete smiled. “You look like life’s treating you well.”

“You, too.” Jake grinned, gave Pete a light jab to the biceps. “How long will you be in town?”

“Just overnight. I have to be back in Chicago tomorrow morning.”

“Too bad. I have a business dinner lined up. Let me call the guy and—”

“No, no, I understand. How about drinks? You have time for that?”

“Great idea. Want to go out, or have something here?”

“Here would be cool. Got any ale?”

Jake laughed. “Some things never change, huh? Ale, it is.”

He went to his built-in mini fridge, took out a couple of bottles and opened them. Pete waved away his offer of a glass. The two men sat across from each other, leaned close enough to clink bottles, took long, thirsty swallows, then smiled.

“So,” Jake said, “how’re things?”

“Couldn’t be better. And you?”

“Terrific.” Jake sighed. “Well, they would be, if…” He leaned forward, across the desk. “You know why I didn’t answer when you knocked? I thought you were a woman.”

Pete laughed. “Don’t tell me you’ve decided you’re giving up babes. I wouldn’t believe it.”

“Let me amend that,” Jake said, smiling. “I thought you were a particular woman.”

“Ah. A bowwow who’s developed a thing for you, huh?”

“No, she’s a definite ten.” Jake grinned, but his grin faded. “But the thing ran its course, you know? She began to hear wedding bells.”

“Oh, yeah. I know what that’s like.” Pete drank some ale. “So, you tried to end it?”

“I’m still trying. Trouble is, she’s determined. She calls. She sends me notes. She shows up at my apartment, she shows up here…”

“Well, you have a secretary, don’t you? Let her do the dirty work.”

“I have an executive assistant,” Jake said, smiling and lifting his eyebrows.

“What’s that mean?”

“It means I’m lucky enough to employ a woman whose only goal in life is to make me happy.”

“Jake, you dog, you! You stocked the front desk with a hot babe!”

‘‘Sorry to burst the bubble, pal, but Emily’s as far from being a hot babe as Arnold Schwarzenegger.”

Pete sighed. “Too bad. I figured her for the fox I just saw at the elevator.”

“Oh, hell,” Jake said, and the color drained from his face. “Brunette?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Big brown eyes?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Great legs? A body meant to send a man straight over the edge?”

Pete shrugged, took a drink of his ale. “Definitely and probably.”

“Probably?” Jake gave a forlorn laugh. “You’d have to be blind or dead not to notice Brandi’s figure.”

“Brandi?”

“Yeah. The lady who’s decided I’m the love of her life. I half-figured she might show up here tonight.”

“Well, she did. And the only reason I didn’t notice her shape was because it was hidden under a layer of tweed.”

“Yeah, well…” Jake stared at Pete. “Tweed? Brandi would sooner be caught during rush hour in a New York subway than in tweed.”

“Either her tastes have changed, or the woman I saw wasn’t…Who’d you say?”

“Brandi,” Jake said automatically. He frowned. “Emily wears tweed.”

“And Emily would be…?”

“I told you about her. She’s my P.A. My E.A.” Jake thought for a second, then shook his head. “Forget it. No way could it have been Emily. I mean, she’s great. She’s efficient. She’s capable. She’s the best assistant I’ve ever had.” He smiled. “But a looker? No way.”

Pete gave a dramatic sigh. “See, that’s where we differ, Jake. I’ve learned to refine my tastes.”

Jake grinned. “Sure.”

“No, I’m serious. I look beyond the obvious.” He leaned forward, gave a leering smirk. “Besides, you know what they say. Still waters run deep.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning,” Pete said smugly, “if a babe doesn’t think she’s a looker, a guy can get into her pants a lot easier.”

Jake shot to his feet. “Not into Emily’s, he can’t.” His voice was cold; he could feel the sudden tension in his muscles.

“Hey.” Pete stood up, too. “We don’t even know it’s Emily we’re talking about.”

“I’m just making a point, Archer. Forget about getting into Emily’s pants.”

“Yeah, but it’s probably not even…Jake. I didn’t…” Pete took a breath. “Listen man, no offence.”

“None taken,” Jake said, and even he could hear the lie in his words. Well, why wouldn’t he be upset? Emily was a fantastic asset. He wasn’t about to end up with a messed-up assistant on his hands. Anyway, it was all academic, he thought, and forced himself to smile. “Not that it matters. That couldn’t have been Emily. She isn’t a looker. You don’t know my Emily but I can tell you, my Emily is average—”

“Your Emily isn’t ‘your Emily,’ Mr. McBride!”

Both men swung around. Emily stood in the open doorway, her face pale except for two spots of crimson high on her cheeks.

“Oh, hell,” Jake said softly. “Emily. Emily, listen, I didn’t mean—”

“You did mean. And I don’t mind being called ‘average.’ It’s what I am.” Her hands bunched into fists, fists she hid in the folds of her tweed skirt. “But I am not your property. You may assume I have no life away from this office, but that does not give you the right to—”

“Emily,” Jake said unhappily, “please—”

“Emily.” Pete’s voice was soft. Smarmy, Jake thought. Gentle, Emily thought, and looked at him. “Emily,” Pete said again, and smiled, “I’m sorry we have to meet under such difficult circumstances.”

“You two were talking about me,” she said stiffly.

Pete walked towards her. “We were, yes. I was telling Jake—Mr. McBride—that I’d just passed you in the hall.”

Jake made a choked sound. “You mean, the woman you were talking about really was—”

“And that I wanted to meet you,” Pete went on, as if Jake hadn’t spoken. He held out his hand. “My name is Pete Archer.”

Emily ignored his outstretched hand. “Why did you want to meet me?”

“Because I’d like to take you to dinner.”

“Nonsense.” Jake’s voice was too loud, too sharp. He knew it but hell, this was his office and his exec. What right did Archer have to…“She can’t go with you,” he said, as he stalked towards the two of them. “She doesn’t want to go with you. She—”

“I’d be delighted,” Emily said firmly.

“Emily, don’t be a fool. Pete’s not really interested in…” Jake bit his lip. If looks could kill, the one she’d just given him would have left him stone-cold and on the way to the mortuary. “For heaven’s sake, where’s your common sense? You, and this man…?”

She shot him a look more vicious than the first, and then she swung towards Pete.

“Shall we go, Mr. Archer?”

“Archer,” Jake roared, “you son of a—”

“The lady’s made her decision, Jake.”

“I have, indeed. You pay my salary, Mr. McBride, but you do not own me. I do as I wish after office hours. If I want to go out on a date, I will.” Her eyes narrowed. “Unless you’d rather I tendered my resignation…?”

Emily waited. Pete did, too. And Jake, totally helpless for the first time in his adult life, could do nothing except stand in the center of his office and watch his former friend and his little brown sparrow flutter her wings as she headed for a night on the town.