Jennifer Faye - Beauty And Her Boss

“I—I can do that.” She hesitated. “The guesthouse is nice.” There was some sort of grunt on his end of the phone. She wasn’t sure what it was supposed to mean, so she ignored it. “What time would you like to get started in the morning?”

“I start before the sun is up. You can start by eight. Will that be a problem?”

“No. Not at all.” She was used to opening the library at eight each morning. “I have a few things that I’d like to go over with you. Shall we meet in my office?”

“I thought you understood that this arrangement is to be by phone or email. I don’t do one-on-one meetings—”

“But—”

“There are no exceptions. Good night.”

And with that terse conclusion, he’d hung up on her. She stared at the phone. She could not believe that this man was so stubborn. Working for him was going to be difficult, but trying to get information about the accident from him was going to be downright impossible—unless she could get past this wall between them. And she hadn’t come this far to give up.

Gaby hung up the phone and turned her attention back to the report for QTR. She’d lost her concentration after speaking with Deacon. She was back to staring at the blinking cursor and wondering what she should write.

QTR had assured her that before anything was published, they would get her approval. She wouldn’t have agreed to the arrangement otherwise. After all, she didn’t want them getting the facts wrong.

Although at this point, there wouldn’t be much to write about the elusive Mr. Santoro. Giving herself the freedom to write about anything she’d learned so far, she resumed typing.

His estate in in disarray with overgrown vegetation. Was it always this way?

He’s run off multiple assistants. What has happened? Has he fired them? If so, for what?

Locked door between the office and the rest of the house. What is he hiding?

The man lacks social niceties. Has he always been this way? Or is this a new thing?

It certainly wasn’t a stellar first report. Would they be upset that it contained more questions than answers? Or would they appreciate her train of thought and look forward to the answers?

Accepting that it was the best she could do now, she proofread the email. Gabrielle pressed Send and closed her personal laptop.

She moved to the French doors and stared at the sky—the storm had now moved away. She opened the doors, enjoying the fresh scent of rain in the air. In the distance, the lightning provided a beautiful show. Was Mr. Santoro staring at the sky, too? She instinctively glanced in the direction of the main house, but she couldn’t see it as it sat farther back than the guesthouse.

Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about her mysterious boss. There had to be a way to break through the man’s wall. She would find it, one way or the other.

CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE EPILOGUE Extract Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

TWO DAYS...

Forty-eight hours...

Two thousand, eight hundred and eighty minutes...

One hundred seventy-two thousand and eight hundred seconds...

No matter how Gaby stated it, that was how long she’d been at the Santoro estate and how long she’d gone without laying eyes on her new boss. It was weird. Beyond weird. What would that be? Bizarre?

Gaby sighed. Whatever you called it, she wasn’t comfortable with this arrangement. Not that her accommodations weren’t comfortable. In fact, they were quite luxurious. And unlike the estate’s grounds, the guest suite was immaculate, thanks to Mr. Santoro’s housekeeper, Mrs. Kupps. The woman had even written her a note, welcoming her.

Gaby glanced at her bedside table and realized that she’d slept in. She only had five minutes until she was due at the office. She had to get a move on. She slipped on a plain black skirt to go with a gray cap-sleeve blouse. There was a jacket that went with the outfit, but she rejected it. It was a warm day and she was more comfortable without the jacket. After all, it wasn’t as if she had any business meetings. When Mr. Santoro said that he would limit their interactions to strictly email with the rare phone call, he hadn’t been exaggerating.

She stepped in front of the full-length mirror and slipped on her black stilettos. With her height of only five foot two, the extra inches added to her confidence.

A knock sounded at the door, startling Gaby. She knew who it was without even opening the door. It would be Mrs. Kupps trying to lure her into eating breakfast. Gaby already explained that she didn’t eat much in the mornings. In all honesty, she loved breakfast but never had time for it. She’d grown used to her liquid diet of coffee, with sugar and milk. It was easy to grab when she was on the run. Upon learning this, Mrs. Kupps had clucked her tongue and told her that she would end up with an ulcer if she didn’t take better care of herself.

Gaby rushed to the door. “Good morning.”

Mrs. Kupps stood there with a bright smile, a tray full of food and a carafe of coffee. “Good morning to you, too. I just brought you a little something to eat.” Mrs. Kupps rushed past her and entered the small kitchen, placing the tray on the bar area. “I know you’re in a hurry, but I’m determined to find something you can eat quickly.”

“Mrs. Kupps, you don’t have to do that.” And then, because she really didn’t want to hurt the woman’s feelings, she added, “But it is really sweet of you. And the food looks amazing.”

Mrs. Kupps beamed. “Oh, it’s nothing, dearie. I enjoy having someone around here to spoil. Lord knows Mr. Santoro doesn’t let anyone fuss over him since the accident. He’s like a big old bear with a thorn in his paw.”

“So he wasn’t always so standoffish?”

Mrs. Kupps began setting out the food. “Goodness, no. He was always gracious and friendly. Perhaps he was a bit wrapped up in his acting career, but that’s to be expected with his huge success. But now, he lurks about all alone in that big mansion. He doesn’t see guests and rarely takes phone calls. I cook all his favorites, but his appetite isn’t what it used to be. I’m really worried about him.”

“Do you know what’s wrong with him?” Gaby couldn’t help but wonder if the guilt over the accident was gnawing at him.

Mrs. Kupps shrugged. “I don’t know. And I really shouldn’t have said anything. I just don’t want you to leave. We need someone young and spirited around here. Lord knows, we’ve gone through assistant after assistant. He’s even tried to run me off but it’s not going to happen.” The woman smiled at her. “You’re a breath of fresh air. I have a good feeling about you.”

Mrs. Kupps checked that everything was as it should be and then made a quick exit. It wasn’t until the door shut that Gaby thought of a question for the very kind woman. Why did she stay here? Mr. Santoro was not the easiest person to work for. In fact, he was demanding and expected nothing but perfection with everything that Gaby did. And when she messed up, there was a terse note telling her to fix said error. And he didn’t spare the exclamation points.