SUSAN MEIER - The Boss's Urgent Proposal

Even as that piqued her curiosity, it also frightened her. What if he said or did something that made her like him again? No chance. If she could get beyond him begging her to stay, an almost kiss and ignoring his naked legs beneath a robe—while she fought off wondering if he wore anything on beneath—she could survive seeing a new side of his personality or uncovering a few pieces of his past.

“Let’s go then.” She pointed to her workstation, the cubicle in front of his office, turned and walked toward it. He happily followed her.

“This is my computer.”

“I never would have guessed.”

“I’m serious, Josh,” she said, but she giggled. Now that she was putting all this together, she had to admit this was the first different thing she had picked up on. The real Josh Anderson seemed to make a lot of stupid jokes. Unfortunately, she found most of them funny, which didn’t say a lot for the caliber of her sense of humor.

“If you don’t pay attention and we don’t wade through everything I do, I’m going to leave without you knowing all of my job.”

“Okay, I’ll be serious, too, because I know our time is limited and I’m going to respect your deadlines.”

“Good. Like I said, this is my computer. I have form letters in here for all the routine things you do. Like when you send information to the shareholders.”

“And all Hilton’s family members’ addresses are in there?”

“They’re the only shareholders.”

“Okay, that’s a good thing to know.”

“Here’s another good thing to know.” Olivia walked to the five filing cabinets beside her desk. “The first cabinet contains press releases and anything to do with public relations. The second cabinet holds advertising things. The third cabinet has family information and correspondence…otherwise called shareholder relations. The fourth cabinet is the special projects cabinet. These are hard copies and notes on the projects that you do for Hilton Martin personally. The fifth cabinet is interoffice stuff.”

“That’s fairly straightforward.”

“Well, before you say that, let’s open a drawer.”

She yanked on the top drawer of the first cabinet and showed him that press releases were broken down by category and filed by year and color-coded by store.

“I can handle that.”

She opened the second drawer and showed him that it was full of pictures that were broken down into hanging folders containing photos taken for distribution, advertising purposes, the annual report, and when something unusual or interesting happened. She then pointed out that each group of photos was categorized and color-coded by store. Each store had advertising photos, distribution photos, annual statement photos and general interest photos.

“We have this many pictures of the stores?”

“That’s only a one-year sampling.”

“We’re certainly stuck on ourselves, aren’t we?”

“Haven’t you ever wondered how and why we always had just the picture you needed when you needed it?”

He caught her gaze. “I thought I was lucky.”

Olivia giggled again, but quickly caught herself. “Okay. You thought you were lucky. Very funny.”

He shuffled his feet, seeming pleased that he could make her laugh. “I knew we took pictures. I knew we took a lot of pictures. I just didn’t know this was how you kept them.”

“Now you do.”

He nodded. “Now I do.”

When she finished explaining the contents of the drawers, Josh stared at her. “You did a lot of my work.”

“Yes, I did.”

“And do you know what I’m thinking?”

“Not a clue,” she said, but inside she was secretly hoping he would offer her a huge raise to stay. She knew it was wrong, but she wished it, anyway, if only because the proposition would be a nice boost for her pride.

“I’m thinking that a regular secretary isn’t going to be able to do half this stuff, and at least for the first year or two I better take over some of it again.”

Because that was a very good idea, Olivia refused to let herself be disappointed that he hadn’t asked her to stay, mostly because she wasn’t going to stay. And her ego was fine. Her self-esteem was fine. She didn’t need his praise. “Probably.”

“Which also means I should get most of these files into my office.”

“We can move them now. We’re wearing jeans, and after tomorrow I won’t be around to help you.”

“Okay,” he said amicably, but Olivia noticed that he gave her another one of those odd looks he had been giving her since breakfast. With his dark eyes he reminded her of a sad puppy, and Olivia almost panicked, thinking that he was again feeling the sense of loss and was on the verge of asking her to stay. But not for purely professional reasons, as the request would have been a few seconds before when they were talking about how much of his work she did. Those sad puppy eyes turned everything around and made the request personal. Very, very personal. They seemed to be telling her he knew he would miss her.

I don’t want to stay. I don’t want to stay. I don’t want to stay. Olivia repeated the quick litany in her head. Particularly since the only new thing she had learned about him was that he could make stupid jokes. And that wasn’t a basis for everlasting love. Or even changing one’s mind.

“Okay,” he said again, shaking his head as if to lose the melancholy mood. “But I only have one empty cabinet.” He took a handful of files from the first drawer. “So, today we can only move the public relations things. I’ll call maintenance before we leave and have them bring up two more cabinets. That way, we can work on this again tomorrow.”

Stifling a sigh of relief, Olivia said, “Good idea.”

They worked quietly while they carried files into his office and set them on his desk. But when all the folders were in four tall stacks, and he started handing them to her to organize in the cabinet behind his desk, the silence felt awkward.

Reaching for any topic to break the sad, oppressive mood, Olivia said, “You know, Josh, I’ve never heard the story of how you got your job.”

“My uncle Hilton came to my house and told me that he needed me.”

“Wow.”

“Don’t be impressed. He didn’t need me, but it took me a year to realize that because I never caught on to all of the coincidences. The real deal was that I was spending the weekend here in Atlanta with my mother…”

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.