Kitabı oku: «Trading Places with the Boss», sayfa 2

He stopped, frowning fiercely. Why the hell was he telling her all this? Of all people, she was the last…

But maybe it was because they’d known each other forever, practically grown up side by side. Too bad he couldn’t just think of her as a sister. But the feeling that swelled in him whenever he looked at her had nothing to do with brotherly love. So he had better stop looking.

“You were her favorite,” she said softly.

“Me?” That startled him. When he thought of his mother, he remembered a warm smile and a feeling of peace. She was just about perfect in his book. No one could ever touch her. It still hurt to know she was gone. “Nah. She didn’t have favorites. She was good to everyone.”

Shelley nodded. “She was a wonderful woman and she died much too young.” Reminders of that awful time, when Jodie’s sweet mother was dying of complications from heart surgery, made her wince. “But believe me, she had a special soft spot for you.”

He turned to look at her, frowning. “You were just a kid. You paid attention to things like that?”

She couldn’t hold back a smile. “Of course.”

His gaze lingered, then he turned away and her smile drooped.

But he’d unlocked a lot of memories. She’d spent so much time at that house, with that family, probably because she didn’t have much of a family herself. All she had was her always busy single mother. No one else. Millie avoided any talk about who her father was, so she’d made one up for herself. Tall, handsome, kind and loving, he was ideal—though he tended to evaporate into mist whenever she tried to reach out to him. That was the trouble with fantasy fathers.

So that really didn’t fill the lonely hole in her heart. She’d prayed every night for a brother or sister, until she’d finally gotten old enough to begin to understand why that wouldn’t ever happen. So she’d attached herself to the Allmans.

“You seem to have grown up okay despite losing your mother,” she told Rafe now. “And being left to the untender mercies of your father.”

He shrugged. “Pop’s okay.”

That almost made her angry. It wasn’t the way she remembered things.

“He can’t hit you anymore, can he?” she said softly. “You’re bigger than he is now.”

He reacted as though she’d said something crazy.

“What? Ah come on, he never hit me all that much.”

He turned to lean with his back against the railing, his arms crossed over his chest. This was something no one would ever understand. His father had always been rough on him. But that only made the times he came through and surprised the old man all the more satisfying.

“Anyway, that was the way his generation dealt with things. Say what you want about Pop, he’s a man of his time.”

She shook her head, wondering how he could defend the man. Jesse Allman was a character, a legend around their hometown of Chivaree, Texas. A hardscrabble sort of guy, he’d managed to work his much-scorned family out of poverty and up into dizzying success. He was a genius in his own way, and adept at turning his life around and making something of himself. But he hadn’t been a gentle father.

“You wouldn’t hit a child, would you?”

He gave her a look of weary resignation. “It’s called spanking, Shelley. And no, I don’t suppose I would do that. How about you?”

She shrugged. “I’m never going to have children.”

He stared at her, then shook his head. “Going for that big career in the sky, are you?”

For some reason, she felt like shivering. Was she really considered a career woman now? Oh, well, she supposed that was better than some things she might be called.

“Something like that,” she admitted reluctantly.

He turned back to look at the water. “You’re doing pretty well. I’ve heard good things about your work from Clay in Legal.”

Clay Branch, her supervisor in the legal division, another bothersome man in her life. “Maybe if I do a good job at this competition, Clay will finally pay some attention to my requests to get management training.”

“You want to be a manager?”

“I want to move up in my field. And that’s pretty much my only avenue, don’t you think?”

“Maybe so.” He grinned. “I guess that’s why you’re jumping at the chance to boss me around, huh?”

“I didn’t set up the framework for this competition.” She gazed at him challengingly. “But I’m not running from it, either. Do you feel threatened by that, Mr. Boss Man?”

Rafe didn’t respond but he moved restlessly, indicating he was ready to walk on, and she obliged. They passed a small club. Pieces of acoustic guitar music floated out into the night. The crowd was thinning out and the lights were not quite so bright in this direction.

“You used to live here in San Antonio, didn’t you?”

She nodded, feeling suddenly wary. It was not a period of her life she relished discussing. “Not for long,” she murmured, looking away.

“And you worked for Jason McLaughlin during that time, didn’t you?”

His question hit her like a slap in the face and she gasped softly. She sneaked a quick look at him. How much did he know?

Back in Chivaree, the McLaughlins were the family who founded and ran the town, and the Allmans were the outcasts. Things had changed over the last decade, and now the Allmans were riding high, running a company that was putting the McLaughlins into the shadows.

But the old legends still hung on. The McLaughlins were considered legitimate. The Allmans were the outlaws. And the two families had always hated each other.

So it was a big deal for Shelley, who had grown up identifying with the Allmans, to have worked for a McLaughlin. In many quarters, that would be considered the move of a traitor. Looking back, she considered it the move of a crazy person, a woman who had temporarily lost her mind and good sense. It certainly wasn’t something she bragged about, or wanted to remember fondly.

“That was a long time ago,” she said evasively.

“Only a little over a year, isn’t it?” He stopped, hands shoved into his pockets and looked at her searchingly. “So I guess this will be a reunion of sorts for you.”

Her heart was thumping in her chest and she reached up to finger her gold necklace nervously. “What are you talking about?”

“I just noticed it on the roster. McLaughlin Management is in the competition.” His stare was hard and penetrating. “Jason is here. Didn’t you know?”

“No, I didn’t know.” She wanted to reach out for something to lean on but she knew she couldn’t allow herself that luxury. This was something she hadn’t prepared for. She knew Jason’s business was doing very well, but they had never entered the competition before. Why did they have to decide to start now?

“Or is that exactly why you asked to be included in the team even though you had your turn last year?”

She looked into his face, bewildered. Did he really think she wanted a chance to get close to Jason McLaughlin again?

Then he knew—or at least suspected—about her past relationship with the man. That was embarrassing.

Still, a lot of people knew, so why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t anything she was proud of. And she certainly didn’t yearn for a repeat performance, if that was what he was implying. Anger shivered through her.

“Don’t worry, Rafe. I won’t be taking time off from the competition to dally with our competitors. We’ll put up a good fight for your beloved trophy.”

She started to stomp off but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“Shelley, don’t act like I’m all alone in this. Of all people, you should understand. We both come from dirt-poor backgrounds. We know what it’s like to scramble for a little dignity.”

She turned her face away, unwilling to join him in this, even rhetorically, as he went on.

“We’re not like the McLaughlins, either one of us. No silver spoons for us. We fight for every inch. So I think you understand me when I say we’ve got to win this thing. And a good part of the satisfaction in that will be beating the McLaughlins.”

“Beating the McLaughlins,” she echoed softly.

“Sure. They’ve always got the establishment behind them. We’re the little guy. We have to try harder.”

That was Rafe to a T—always trying harder. Always trying to show his father that he could be good at things. And the funny thing was, he was very good at just about everything. Too bad Jesse Allman never seemed to notice.

But she didn’t want to waste her time feeling empathy for Rafe. He was studying her reaction and she knew it. He wanted to know that she was on the side of Allman Industries, that she wasn’t going to defect to the enemy. Rebelliously she refused to give him that comfort.

She looked out at the water again. “I thought maybe, now that Jodie is marrying Kurt McLaughlin, the feud between your two families would begin to fade away.”

His mouth hardened. “The feud will begin to fade away when the McLaughlins stop being coldhearted bastards. Except for Kurt, of course. He’s always been different from the rest of them.”

She nodded. She had to agree on that score. Kurt had started working at Allman Industries some months before, despite a lot of resistance and bitterness from his own family. And when Jodie had come home to work there, too, a romance between the two of them had quickly blossomed.

Shelley loved Jodie and wished her the best, but she had to admit she was a little worried at first about the McLaughlin angle to it all. Her own experience told her that all the years of antagonism between the two families was based on more than pure spite.

She was still thinking about the McLaughlins as they started to walk back toward the hotel. There had been a time when she’d been so in love with Jason McLaughlin she could hardly see straight. And maybe that was why she didn’t realize what a jerk he was until it was too late.

No. Wait. That wasn’t really fair.

Jason hadn’t been so much a jerk as she herself had been blind and hopelessly naive. She hadn’t known he was married at first. From what she learned later, the marriage was stormy—with the two of them separated more often than they were together. She had started dating Jason during one of those separations. Still, only a fool would have believed his lies about it being over for good. Anyone with half a brain should have seen where things were headed. Only, she had been too overwhelmed by the chance to be with Jason. She had a brain, she just hadn’t used it. She still cringed when she remembered the day his wife had returned to find Shelley ensconced in their apartment. The bitter contempt in the woman’s eyes had been like a brand on her soul. And she knew she deserved every bit of that scorn.

“So I know you’re going to cooperate here. Right?”

He wanted reassurance. Well, too bad. At this point she wasn’t sure he deserved it. Looking at him, she made a face.

“Are you still obsessed with being number one all the time, Rafe? Is that all life is to you, always winning?”

“What’s wrong with winning? It’s better than being a loser.” His dark gaze raked over her sardonically. “Or maybe you prefer losers?”

“Not really. I’d say I prefer people of goodwill.”

He started to say something, then stopped himself and shook his head. “Goodwill, huh? Hey, I’m dripping with it.”

“Really?” The picture that conjured up almost made her laugh. She raised her eyebrows instead, then smiled faintly and made a grand gesture with her hand. “Perhaps I should clarify. I prefer people with a broader scope,” she said, purposefully making it sound snooty.

“Oh.” She was happy to see amusement begin to bubble in his gaze. “Broad scope, eh? Excuse me while I adjust my cravat.”

She gestured again, chin in the air. “You’re excused. Carry on.”

“Such graciousness. You put me to shame.”

She smiled impishly. “Then my work here is done.”

A faint grin actually appeared on his face. “Oh, no, honey. I’m going to be more of a challenge than you can imagine.”

Her breath caught in a little hiccup in her throat and she blinked to cover it up. “That’s a little scary. I can imagine a lot.” She flashed him a look. “I’ll clarify even further. I prefer men with a little sophistication.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I suppose what you really prefer is Jason McLaughlin.”

Her head whipped around and she glared at him. To her complete shock, he actually looked chagrined.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “That was a low blow.”

“You should know,” she said tartly. “You’re the king.”

“Of low blows?”

“And other assorted indignities.”

“Indignities.” He mocked the way she’d said the word, humor softening the edges. “Gettin’ sorta high falutin with your language there, girl. I knew you way back when we were both prairie rats. You can’t fool me.”

He was teasing her, but in a gentle way, not the way he used to when they were young. If he didn’t watch out, she was going to start to like him.

“Maybe you can’t be fooled,” she said. “But at the same time, you can be persuaded. You’re a smart guy. You know there’s nothing wrong with reaching for something a little higher.”

A boisterous bunch of young people was headed straight for them. Reaching out, he put a hand at the nape of her neck, guiding her with a protective touch as the youngsters passed.

“Just as long as you don’t forget where you came from,” he murmured.

The feel of his hand on her skin was seductive and she felt a lazy sense of warmth seeping into her system. Taking a quick step to the side, she managed to pull away as she pretended to need the room to turn and face him.

“Well, look at you,” she said earnestly. “You were in a business suit this afternoon. You had on a tie and everything. Your shirt was crisp and white and your slacks had a great crease. You looked wonderful. Your father never looked like that in his life.”

His face twisted into a thoughtful frown. “So I’m aiming for a higher place just like you think I oughta, just by wearing a suit?” He gave her a look of pure exasperation. “Listen, Shelley. Nobody ever worked harder to make a ‘higher place’ in this world than my father did.”

“Except maybe my mother,” she shot back. “How do you think she managed to run Millie’s Café on her own? Nobody handed her anything.”

A reluctant grin began to surface again on his handsome face. “Well…my pop can outhustle your mom.”

Her chin went out. “Cannot.”

His eyes twinkled. “Can, too.”

She smiled back, just barely, flashing her eyes at him. “Well…maybe. But he can’t cook like she can.”

He nodded. “You got me there.”

They were back in front of the hotel. Without saying a word, they both paused. Neither seemed anxious to go in. She turned to look at him and he met her gaze.

“So you swear you didn’t come to the conference because of McLaughlin?” he demanded.

She hesitated, then held up her hand like a Girl Scout. “I swear to you. I probably wouldn’t have come myself if I’d known he was going to be here.”

He nodded slowly as though thinking that over. “So tell me…why did you come? Just what is your ulterior motive?”

She couldn’t keep meeting his gaze after that. Because the truth was, “ulterior motive” was a good phrase for her purpose. She had agreed to come at the last minute, knowing it would give her an opportunity she wouldn’t otherwise have to do a little detective work that needed to be done. But she couldn’t tell Rafe about that. To do so would involve telling a secret that wasn’t hers to share.

Taking in a deep breath, she raised her gaze to his again. “You know, there are some things that are just plain private,” she said firmly, though her pulse gave a nervous flutter as she noted his reaction. “My reasons have nothing to do with the business,” she added. “And anyway, you have no right to ask me.”

“You won’t tell me.” He looked astonished at her defiance.

She shook her head and shrugged, her palms out. “You have no need to know.” It was only the truth. Why couldn’t he accept it and move on?

His eyes looked very dark in the lamplight. “You realize that means I can’t put my suspicions to rest.”

She turned her head so fast her long silky hair whipped around her shoulders. He was being impossible. But then, that was his nature, wasn’t it? She’d almost forgotten with him seeming so approachable.

“Then you just suspect away all you want, honey,” she told him with her thickest Texas drawl. “As long as you do a good job for me tomorrow. Because for the time being, I…am…the…boss.” With a look daring him to dispute what she’d said, she whirled and strode for the elevators.

Chapter Three

In the morning, the first person Shelley saw as she stepped off the elevator on the lobby floor was the very man she dreaded seeing—Jason McLaughlin.

“Shelley. It’s been a long time.” The tall blue-eyed man in the Italian silk suit stepped forward and took both her hands in his, smiling down at her. “You look wonderful.”

For a moment she wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to speak. Did he know her well enough to see the turmoil her heart was in? Did he notice the tightness around her mouth, the panic in her eyes?

Probably not. After all, there was no real evidence that he had ever known much of anything about her, that he had ever really cared. She’d warmed his bed and kept his apartment picked up. That was all he’d ever really wanted, wasn’t it?

On the other hand, she’d spent all of her teenage years watching everything he ever did. She’d even kept a notebook about him, hidden under her mattress and only brought out late at night to write some new secret in. Saw Jason at the feed store this afternoon. He had holes in his jeans and looked so cool. He turned my way and I almost had a heart attack. But he walked right by. I don’t think he saw me.

He was her one and only teenage crush, and when she moved to San Antonio after college and got a job in his firm, she was in seventh heaven. And then he actually noticed her, picked her out to be his special assistant, and very quickly, his special girl. It was like a dream come true. Until she woke up.

“Jason,” she said, finding her voice at last. “I’m surprised to find you here. I would have thought this would be a bit too bourgeois for you.”

“Don’t be silly,” he said, beaming at her. “This conference has become the highlight of the business year in San Antonio. We came to win the competition.” He laughed lightly, his white teeth flashing

Sharks have white teeth, too, she thought a bit wildly. Translation: beware!

Aloud she said, “Good luck. We’re hoping for a good result as well.” But she felt as though she were in deep water and in danger of losing her grip on the surface with predators circling.

He still had hold of one of her hands and he tried to tug her a bit closer. Looking down dreamily into her eyes in a way that would once have sent her reeling, he said coaxingly, “Listen, we’re both on our way to breakfast, aren’t we? Come have it with me. We’ll get a booth. We need to catch up on old times.”

She opened her mouth to respond, planning to put him in his place with a well-chosen word or two. But she wasn’t quick enough, because suddenly Rafe was there, sliding his arm around her shoulders.

“Sorry, McLaughlin,” he said coolly. “I’ve already got her booked up. You’re out of luck.”

“Rafe.” Jason’s face changed completely, but only for a moment. Very quickly he had his smooth, cultured mask on again. “I would make a crack about bad pennies, but that would be rude.”

“Go ahead and be as rude as you like,” Rafe told him evenly. “We’re all such old friends. You can be yourself around us if you like.”

Jason had a faint smile that didn’t warm his eyes at all. “Have a nice day,” he said, sarcasm coloring his tone as he turned away.

“We will,” Rafe promised, tightening his hold on Shelley’s shoulders as he began to lead her toward the breakfast area.

She went willingly enough, but her nerves were jangling and she pushed his arm away. The hostess indicated a table big enough to take the others as they arrived. Shelley turned and faced Rafe as they approached it.

“I could have handled that myself, you know,” she said.

“I have no doubt about it,” he said smoothly, escorting her into her seat at the table. “If you’d wanted to.”

Her eyes widened. He really didn’t trust her. She leaned forward, looking at him across the table. “Are you accusing me of something here?” she demanded.

He smiled thinly, then picked up the huge menu and began to peruse it. “I’m not going to tolerate any traitors on our team,” he said from behind it. “Just giving you fair warning.”

“Rafe Allman….” She clenched her hands into fists on the table. “You…you make me so mad!”

He looked around the menu as though surprised. “No reason for anger, Shelley. Don’t you get it?”

He dropped the menu and reached out to grab one of her hands. “The fact that we strike sparks off each other should be a plus for us. It’s great for creativity. It produces a tension that can help us create a dynamic that will blow everyone else in this competition away.”

She blinked at him. “Either that, or we’ll kill each other.”

He nodded. “That’s always a possibility, of course.”

But his eyes were smiling and she couldn’t resist smiling back for just a moment. Then she pulled her hand away from his and reached for her own menu.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “I know what I’m ordering for you.”

“What?”

“Dollar-size blueberry pancakes with cherry syrup and sausages.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded. He looked up at her, and she almost thought he was half embarrassed.

“Listen, I remember how you used to pack it away on Saturday mornings when Rita would cook a big breakfast for us all.”

Rita was the big sister, the oldest daughter in the Allman clan. “She cooked enough for half the neighborhood it seemed sometimes,” she murmured, remembering.

He nodded. “Anyway, you always loved those little round pancakes and that thick cherry syrup.”

How funny that he remembered that. A wave of nostalgia swept over her and she smiled. “Those were the days before I had to start watching my figure.”

“Hey, I’ll watch your figure for you. No problem at all. And I’ll let you know if I notice anything going wrong with it.”

She sighed. “Now you’re starting to disappoint me. That is such a lame joke.”

“Who’s joking?” He said it softly, his eyes burning.

The waitress arrived at their table, pouring them both cups of steaming coffee, and Rafe ordered for them. Shelley was too involved in thinking over what he’d just said and the way he’d looked to remember that she’d planned to stop him from ordering pancakes for her. And then it was too late and she decided to let it go.

She looked at him a bit warily. He looked back. She searched for something to say.

“Well. Ready for the big day?”

He grunted and took a sip of scalding coffee, making a face as it burned his tongue.

“The workshops last until noon,” she said, talking quickly to fill the silence. “We’ll meet for lunch in the Tapa Grill and then our group will adjourn to my room to decide on our plan. I’ve got some really interesting ideas.”

“Do you?” He looked surprised.

“Yes, I do.”

He shrugged. “I’ve got a few ideas of my own. Some pretty great ideas. I guess it will be the battle of the ideas. We’ll see whose ideas come out on top.”

She made a face. He was making this sound like some sort of monster truck rally or something. “I think mine are pretty good.”

He nodded, his dark gaze searching her face. “‘Pretty good’,” he echoed mockingly. “You see, there’s your problem, Shelley, ‘Pretty good’ is not going to win this competition. ‘Over-the-top pretty damn sensational’ might have a chance.” He shook his head, stabbing a fork into the air. “This is what worries me. You don’t have the killer instinct.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I should hope not.”

“But don’t you get it? The killer instinct is going to be bottom-line imperative to win this.”

“Oh, stop being so melodramatic. We’re going to do just fine.”

He stared at her for a moment, then groaned, throwing his head back. “Shelley, Shelley, Shelley. You’ve got to toughen up, girl. You cringe at the sight of blood. Metaphorically speaking. You can’t go for the throat, regardless. You’re not ready, willing and able to wage all-out war on everyone and everything that gets in your way.” His penetrating gaze stung. “And I am.” He sat back, looking infuriatingly pleased with himself. “You’d better leave this to me.”

She had to bite her tongue for a moment, and even count to ten. She didn’t want to start screeching at him. That would be embarrassing, especially with Jason McLaughlin sitting across the room, watching every move they made.

“You go ahead and give advice to the B group,” she said at last. “You are the highest ranking officer from Allman Industries. You have a right to manage us all you want. But as for our group, for the next four days, I’m the boss. You’re going to do what I say, Rafe Allman.”

He looked at her with heavily lidded eyes. “Is this some kind of payback?”

“Payback!” She rolled her eyes. “You are such an infuriating man. You really think it’s all about you, don’t you?”

“Well, isn’t it?”

She stared at him for a long moment. He really meant it.

“You know, you’re right. This is payback.” She leaned forward again, speaking earnestly. “It’s payback for the time you put green food coloring in the shampoo while Jodie and I were swimming and we ended up with green hair—and green faces and green hands.”

His eyebrows knit together as he recalled the incident. “I must admit, I hadn’t thought that through very well when I did it.” Still, he grinned. “But you two sure did look funny.”

She wasn’t going to concede that. She wasn’t going to concede anything to him anymore.

“It’s also payback for the time I was drinking milk at your house and thought I felt a lump go down and you convinced me you’d put a frog in my glass. I nearly went crazy, sure that I could feel it wiggle around inside me.”

“Poor little frog.” He actually looked concerned, glancing at what he could see of her tummy area. “He must be in there still.”

She gaped at him. “There was no frog!”

He looked doubtful. “You’ll never know for sure, will you?”

How many years did you get for murder in Texas these days? Surely jurors would take into account that this was a crime of passion. Passionate anger!

She’d started down a memory lane that didn’t seem to have an end. Now that she’d brought it up, she could think of so many times he’d driven her crazy.

“How about when I was just learning to drive and you told me the bump I went over was Jodie’s dog Buster. I couldn’t find that dog anywhere for hours, crying the whole time, thinking he was in the bushes somewhere, hurt.”

He grimaced. “That one might have been a little mean.”

“A little!” She shook her head, glaring at him. “I hated you!”

“For what? I was just being a dopey kid. And so were you.” He looked at her quizzically. “Remember the time you switched the tuna sandwich in my lunch bag with one made of cat food?”

“I didn’t do that.” She managed to look innocent. “And anyway, it was Jodie’s idea.”

He grinned and she couldn’t help but smile back, just a little. But there wasn’t time for anything else. Jim and Jaye were coming toward their table and some of the others weren’t far behind. Shelley sat up a little taller and put on her more public smile. Too much dallying with Rafe Allman was a danger to her peace of mind, and probably to her sanity. The day was going to be very full and it was time to get her head on straight.

An hour later, Shelley was sneaking down the back stairway to the parking garage, hoping no one had noticed her slipping out of the time management workshop. Skipping that and the forum on brainstorming would give her exactly two hours before she had to be back for lunch. Hopefully, she would have some answers to her questions by then.

Her car was waiting and soon she was cruising along the familiar streets of San Antonio, heading for Chuy’s Café. She really hoped this top-secret mission she was on for Rafe’s older brother, Matt, would be successful.

She’d always looked on Matt as her own older brother as well. He was the sort of guy you could depend on, the sort you wanted only good things to happen to. She’d been in college in Dallas while he was going to med school there and she’d become good friends with his girlfriend at the time, Penny Hagar. She and Penny had even shared an apartment for a while. So her relationship with Matt had only become stronger. And when he’d come to her a few days ago and explained that he needed to find Penny again, Shelley had jumped at the chance to help him out.

Now she was on her way to the coffee shop that had served as a hangout of sorts for the group of young people she had socialized with when she’d lived here in San Antonio. Hopefully someone would remember Penny, who had supposedly returned to San Antonio after leaving Dallas three years before.

She knew Penny had a brother named Quinn who was still in the area. In fact, she had hung around with a group of people who knew Quinn when she’d lived here. He was more or less on the periphery of the group, but they’d been friendly acquaintances and had even talked about Penny a time or two. If she could only find Quinn, Penny’s whereabouts ought to be easy to locate.

A little over an hour later, she was turning back into the hotel parking area. She’d found a couple of old acquaintances having a late breakfast at Chuy’s. They had been very helpful in giving her names and telephone numbers that might serve as leads, but she really hadn’t gotten hold of any firm information that would help her search.