Читать книгу In Love With The Boss - Doreen Roberts - Страница 10

Chapter Two

“Now look what you’ve done! Are you all right?” Sadie leaped toward her employer who lay quite still, sprawled inelegantly on his stomach.

“No,” his muffled voice answered carefully, “I am not all right. Not only am I in considerable pain, I am apparently unable to manage something as fundamental as reaching the bathroom. I am also finding it a little difficult to hold an intelligent conversation with my nose buried in this rug, which smells of used cat litter, by the way.”

“Here, let me help you.” Sadie grasped his shoulder with the intention of rolling him onto his back.

Jordan Trent, however, seemed to have a violent objection to being touched. Shaking off her hold, he struggled into a sitting position and looked balefully up at her. “Just give me a minute. I’ll manage.”

There was only one course of action, as far as Sadie was concerned. When someone behaved like a child, he deserved to be treated like one.

Folding her arms, she adopted a tone that had always worked well for her in the past. “Mr. Trent, I’m not here for the fun of it. I’m supposed to help you, and you are making it very difficult for me to do my job.”

“I apologize for that, Miss...whatever your name is—”

“Milligan.”

“Thank you. I’ll try not to forget again. However, I assure you I can manage to get myself to the bathroom. I managed quite well before you got here.”

“You don’t seem to be doing such a good job of it now,” Sadie calmly observed.

Jordan Trent’s face turned a dull red. “Oh, all right. Give me a hand here to get on my feet.” “Please.”

“Please give me a hand to get on my feet,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

Hiding a grin of triumph, she stepped behind him, grasped him under the armpits and shoved. It took a moment or two of struggling—Jordan Trent’s lean build was deceptive. He had to be carrying a lot of muscle weight. Eventually, however, after a lot of groaning and cursing on his part, she had him upright again and leaning heavily on his crutches.

“How did you manage to hurt your foot, anyway?” she asked him when she was sure he was balanced securely.

He avoided her gaze, concentrating on maneuvering the crutches. “I fell off a ladder.”

Poor man must have been trying to fix a hole in the roof, Sadie thought, feeling a stab of sympathy. He probably couldn’t afford to have someone do it for him.

She watched him take a step forward, terrified he might fall again. “Just be sure and lift the crutches high enough to miss the rug,” she warned, braced to grab him just in case he might topple over.

Without answering her, he hopped his way across the floor, then shuffled sideways through the door into the bedroom.

Sadie followed him, keeping a wary eye on his progress.

Jordan halted at the door of the bathroom and peered at her over his shoulder. “I’ll have to leave the crutches with you. There isn’t enough room to move in there as it is, without these two damn broomsticks getting in the way.”

She took them from him, then waited in an agony of apprehension until she heard the reassuring sound of the toilet being flushed.

A moment later the door opened and Jordan stood in the doorway, supporting himself with one hand on the frame. “Are you still here?” he mumbled, sounding as if he’d hoped she’d vanished into thin air.

Sadie sighed. The truth was, she was feeling more than a little sorry for him. Apart from his injury, it was obvious some other misfortune had happened to him, and it must have been substantial.

His speech and lofty attitude clearly told her that at one time he’d been used to a more comfortable life-style. Yet here he was, not only reduced to living in appalling conditions, more than likely half starved, but temporarily crippled, as well. Obviously his company must have felt sorry for him and hired him a temp.

It had to be terrible for a man like Jordan Trent to have to deal with such a come-down. No wonder he was so defensive and irritable. Sadie’s kind heart ached for the poor man. “You’ll feel much better when you’ve showered and shaved,” she said soothingly.

He looked as if he would like to strangle her. “Miss Milligan,” he said, speaking slowly and distinctly, “in case you haven’t noticed, there is no shower in this miserable excuse for a bathroom. Even if there were, I would not be able to use it with this lump of plaster on my foot.”

If his voice rose a fraction, Sadie chose to ignore it. Meeting his steely gaze without flinching, she said calmly, “You could use the tub if you drape your foot over the edge.”

“I could, if I were a contortionist, which I am not. Nor do I have any desire to learn how to be one. I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with my dishevelled, unwashed state for the time being.”

She gave her head a decisive shake. “I’m sorry, Mr. Trent, but I’m afraid I must insist. Not only will you feel better, it will help achieve a more professional atmosphere.”

His eyebrows arched. “I’m sorry that you find my appearance offensive. Maybe I’d better find someone less particular.”

In spite of her sympathy for his plight, Sadie was beginning to lose patience. She took a couple of steps toward him. “You know very well you’d have to wait another day to replace me. In the meantime, you’d lose valuable work time. Besides, I doubt very much if you’d find anyone else willing to take care of you like this. I’m breaking all the rules, you know.”

Jordan frowned. “If you must know, Miss Florence Nightingale, I know plenty of women who’d jump at the chance of taking care of me. Now please hand me my crutches. I’m tired and I want to go back to that uncomfortable lumpy couch and read the newspaper.”

Ignoring his wishful comment about the other women, she said evenly, “Not until you’ve bathed and shaved.”

“And just how am I supposed to accomplish that?”

“I’ll help you.”

A gleam appeared in the ice-blue eyes. “Well, that should prove interesting, to say the least.”

Feeling she’d stepped on shaky ground, Sadie lifted her chin. “I’ll fill the tub for you. If you sit on the edge and swing one foot in, you should be able to ease yourself down in there, leaving your injured foot hanging over the edge.”

For a long moment he held her gaze, while she wondered frantically what was going on in his mind, then he let out a long sigh. “All right, I can tell you’re not going to stop whining about it, so let’s get it over with. Though I warn you, if I get stuck in there, you’ll have to haul me out.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage beautifully.”

Jordan grunted. “You’ll find a large bath towel in the chest under the bed. Get it for me, will you?”

She waited pointedly until he muttered, “Please,” as an afterthought. Wondering if perhaps she hadn’t taken on more than she could handle, she went down on her knees and peered under the bed. When she stood again, the striped towel in her hand, Jordan had disappeared from the doorway.

For a moment she thought he might have managed to get back to the couch without his crutches, but when she looked in the bathroom she found him sitting on the toilet, his face white and drawn.

“Are you all right?” she asked anxiously.

“A little light-headed, that’s all.”

“I’ll cook you a meal just as soon as you get dressed,” she promised. “You’ll feel better when you’ve eaten something.”

He looked up at her, and she felt an odd tug at her heart. Right then he looked for all the world like a helpless, sulky little boy. “That’s if I manage to survive this torture,” he muttered.

She smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m quite sure you’ll be able to handle things just fine.”

He studied her in silence for a long moment, then said quietly, “Your family must miss you a great deal.”

Surprised by the comment, she shrugged. “I know I miss them, but I have to admit, it’s nice not to be constantly at their beck and call.”

“They don’t live here?”

“Lakeview. Still in Oregon, but not close enough to drop in on me every day.”

“Your husband must like that.”

“I don’t have a husband,” Sadie said, ignoring the little skip of her heart. She handed him the towel, then edged past his knees to turn on the faucets in the tub. Her mouth twitched when she envisioned Mrs. Simpson’s reaction if she walked in on them now.

She’d probably lose her job, Sadie thought as she tested the water gushing out of the tap. After adjusting the temperature to her satisfaction, she placed the stopper in the freshly cleaned drain, then straightened.

Unnerved to find Jordan Trent watching her with intense interest, she dried her hands on the hand towel. “There, that should do it.”

“Thank you, Miss Milligan.”

She frowned. “I’d rather you call me ‘Sadie’ if that’s all right with you?”

“I think I can manage that, if you’ll call me Jordan.”

She thought about that. “I guess that’s okay, though I don’t think Mrs. Simpson would approve.”

“Mrs. Simpson?”

“The battle-ax who owns the Helping Hands Agency. You know, Helping Hands. You must have talked to her when you called.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t call. That was Amber. She’s...er...the boss’s secretary.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t going to say so, but it seemed to her that if the boss could afford a secretary, he could at least pay his employee enough for him to find a decent place to live instead of this damp, rundown old boathouse. Obviously draftsmen didn’t earn as much as she’d thought they did.

“I didn’t see any soap in here,” she said, watching the water rise steadily up the sides of the tub.

“There’s some in the kitchen.”

“I’ll get it. Don’t move until I get back.”

“I have no intention of moving,” he said grimly.

Sadie hurried back to the kitchen, wondering what on earth she’d do if he couldn’t get himself out of the tub. She wasn’t feeling nearly as confident as she’d like him to believe.

In spite of his shabby surroundings, Jordan Trent still managed to present a formidable front. She couldn’t help wondering just what tragedy had reduced such a seemingly powerful man to living apparently on the edge of poverty.

Perhaps he was paying out alimony and child support to an ex-wife, and that was why he couldn’t afford a decent place to live.

Deciding that was it, since he obviously didn’t have a wife to take care of him, Sadie found the soap and headed back to the bathroom. Jordan sat where she left him, watching the water gushing into the tub.

Sadie dropped the soap into the water and turned off the faucets. “Now,” she said, beginning to feel more than a little awkward, “you should be able to manage the rest by yourself.”

He uttered a grunt of derision. “I’ll yell if I get stuck. Just remember this was all your brilliant idea.”

Praying that she wouldn’t have to help him out of the tub, Sadie scrambled out of the bathroom and left him to it.

She spent the next several minutes pacing back and forth in the tiny bedroom, listening to the sounds of splashing from the bathroom and tensed to leap in there at the slightest sound of distress.

To her immense relief, when the summons came, Jordan was already out of the tub. Still looking far too pale, he sat once more on the toilet seat. With nothing but the towel wrapped around his waist, he still managed to intimidate her.

Tiny drops of water clung to the dark fuzz on his chest, Sadie noticed before she snatched her gaze away. “Are you all right? Can I get you anything?”

“Clothes would be nice.”

“Oh, of course. Where will I find them?”

“I keep a sweat suit and clean underwear in the chest where you found the towel.”

“I’ll get them. Do you have an electric razor?”

“In the kitchen.”

“I’ll get that, too.”

Glad for an excuse to leave, Sadie hurried back to the kitchen. She was fast discovering that all her years of administering to her brothers and sisters had not prepared her for this particular situation.

Being enclosed in a small space with her half-naked employer was a challenging experience. She only hoped she could carry this off with as much composure as he seemed to enjoy.

While he was getting shaved and dressed, she examined the contents of the refrigerator. There didn’t seem to be much else in there except eggs, bacon and a carton of milk.

The freezer, however, held several frozen dinners, a couple of packets of hamburger, frozen vegetables, and a large carton of ice cream. Sorting through the packages on the counter, Sadie found a box of spaghetti and a jar of pasta sauce.

At least she had the makings for a decent meal, she thought as she collected what she needed. The microwave, much to her surprise, actually worked. It looked so ancient she imagined it had to be one of the first ever made. She threw the hamburger in there to thaw it out, then went back to the bathroom to check on Jordan.

He was waiting for her in his usual spot on the toilet seat. Freshly shaved and with his hair neatly combed back, he looked a lot more presentable. In fact, now that she took the time to really notice, Jordan Trent’s dark good looks would rival any of those hunks in the TV commercials.

Even the black sweat suit couldn’t detract from the imposing air with which he greeted her. “I was beginning to think you’d quit.”

“I am not a quitter, Mr. Trent.”

“So I see. And I seem to remember that we agreed on a first name basis.”

She didn’t know why she was having such a hard time using his first name. His home was certainly unimpressive, and he wasn’t even paying her salary. She had no need to feel intimidated by him.

She got the crutches for him and helped him back to the couch. She knew by the way he sighed when he collapsed upon it that he must still be hurting. It would be another three hours before he could take more medication, she thought, glancing at her watch.

Jordan leaned back and closed his eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured. “I do feel better now that I’m smelling sweet and clean again.”

Aware that he was making light of the situation, Sadie studied him with apprehension. His face was still white and drawn with pain. “I’ll have a hot meal ready for you in a short while,” she said, hoping that would help. “Perhaps you could take a nap while you’re waiting.”

Jordan nodded. “Good idea,” he murmured, his tone suggesting he was already half asleep.

Sadie crept away to prepare the meal.

Jordan waited until he was sure she was out of sight before opening his eyes again. His new temp was turning out to be quite a bossy little lady, he thought, his mouth twisting wryly. He hadn’t been ordered around quite like that since he was in grade school.

If he were truly honest with himself, he was beginning to enjoy all the attention. Especially since there were apparently no hidden strings. It was quite obvious Sadie Milligan had no idea who he was, and it certainly wouldn’t hurt to let her go on thinking he was broke. That way, at least he could be certain she wouldn’t be getting any wild ideas about becoming the first Mrs. Trent.

He smiled, amused by the memory of her standing over him, arms crossed, with her dark eyes flashing and that quaint bobbed haircut making her look like a refugee from the 1920s. Most of the women he met hung on his every word, anticipated his every wish and fell over themselves to please him. Sadie Milligan’s militant, no-nonsense, take-charge attitude was a refreshing change.

Mind you, he warned himself, a little of that went a long way. Sooner or later he would have to make a stand and put her in her place. Right now, however, especially since he felt weakened and annoyingly dependent, it was rather nice to lie back and let someone else run things for a while.

He was dozing when his efficient temp woke him up, holding a plate of something that smelled like heaven.

“Spaghetti Bolognaise,” she announced as he struggled to sit up, blinking at the room which seemed to have become brighter while he slept. “Not too glamorous, I’m afraid, but the best I could do with what I could find. I don’t know what you’re doing with all those awful frozen dinners in the freezer. Apart from the fact they are utterly tasteless, there’s not enough food in them to feed a rabbit.”

Jordan was inclined to agree. Looking up at her disapproving face, he felt compelled to offer some defense. “Amber brought them over on her way to work this morning. She thought they’d be easier for me to manage.”

“A large pot of stew would have been even easier.”

Jordan’s stomach gurgled at the thought. All he could think about right then was getting down him the best food he’d smelled in days.

“Here.” Sadie handed him the plate, a fork and a piece of paper towel. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that you have a tray or napkins lying around somewhere?”

He practically snatched the plate out of her hands. “This will do fine. I’ll manage.”

“All I can find to drink is instant coffee or milk.”

He almost groaned at the thought of steaming hot coffee. “I don’t mind instant.”

“I’ll get it.”

She was halfway back to the kitchen before he remembered his manners. “Aren’t you going to join me?”

“I’ll have mine in the kitchen. I decided to wash the curtains while you were napping. They were filthy.”

He winced at her note of reproval. So that explained the extra light. Now he could see that the windows were bare and sparkling clean.

He was tempted to apologize for the tatty curtains, though he had no idea why he should. The spaghetti, however, was right under his nose, and he wasted no more time. He’d wiped the plate clean by the time she returned.

She took the plate from him, and handed him a steaming cup of coffee. “Well, I’m glad to see you managed to eat it all. I’ve hung the curtains over the stove to dry, so I should be able to put them back up again before I leave.”

She started back to the kitchen, adding over her shoulder, “I’ll make a list of what you need from the supermarket and I’ll shop for you on my way in tomorrow. I’ll make you a nice pot of stew, and all you’ll have to do is heat it up after I’ve left tomorrow night.”

Warm and fed, Jordan was beginning to feel very mellow. Even the pain in his ankle seemed to be easing. Safe in the knowledge that Sadie had no ulterior motive for her attention, he could afford to be gracious. “Thank you, Sadie, I really do appreciate all you’re doing for me.” He watched with interest as a warm blush crept over her cheeks.

“You’re entirely welcome.” She disappeared before he could say any more.

Obviously she wasn’t used to compliments. No doubt she was taken for granted by her large family. The familiar stab of pain went deep and he switched his thoughts to a more practical subject. Now that he was feeling better, he was anxious to get back to work.

Apparently Sadie had the same idea, as she came out of the kitchen carrying a small briefcase. “Where would you like me to work?” she asked, glancing around the small living area with a look of apprehension on her face.

She was not a conventional beauty by any means, Jordan thought, studying her with unabashed interest. In fact, if he stood her up against the women he normally associated with, she’d be considered quite plain and even a little dowdy by comparison.

Most of the women he knew wouldn’t be caught dead in that outfit. The black skirt was way too long and the shapeless knitted blue sweater did nothing for her figure.

There was something about her, though, that caught his attention. Maybe it was her eyes, so full of warmth and concern, or that engaging quirk to her mouth when she smiled. She had the kind of full lips that always looked as if they were about to be kissed.

He’d like to see her in a tight-fitting dress, he decided. From what he’d seen, he had an idea that Sadie Milligan had the kind of voluptuous figure that most men adored and women fought all their life to lose.

“I could work in the kitchen if you prefer,” Sadie said, sounding unsure of herself for a change.

He pulled his thoughts together, aware that he’d made her uncomfortable by his scrutiny. “Oh, no, I’m sure we can find a spot for you in here. If you clear off that table, you’ll have a space to work. I realize it’s not what you’re used to, but I’m sure we can manage. Just dump everything on the floor.”

Everything, as far as he could see, was made up mainly of work papers that had occupied the floor anyway until Sadie had picked them up.

Giving him a disapproving look that almost made him smile, she carefully piled the papers onto a chair, then sat down on the other one and opened up her suitcase.

“You work for an architect, I understand,” she commented as she took out a notebook, a couple of pens, and a small alarm clock, which intrigued Jordan no end. Apparently Sadie Milligan was used to keeping strict hours.

He felt a stab of guilt, realizing that she had gone above and beyond the call of duty so far that day. “Yes, I do. It’s a partnership, actually. Quite successful, too.” He strived to keep the gratification out of his voice. It had taken a lot of sacrifice and hard work to build up his side of the business, and the company was one of the few things he’d achieved in his life that he truly took pride in.

“That’s nice.”

He’d detected a tinge of sarcasm in her voice and he frowned. “They’ve built some pretty impressive buildings in the city,” he said defensively.

“Really. They must make plenty of money then.”

“Lots of it.” He was beginning to feel a little uneasy. She was obviously leading up to something.

All he could see was her profile, but he could tell she was upset about something. His apprehension grew as he watched her apparently wrestling with her thoughts. Then she turned on him so abruptly she made him jump.

“Well, I know it’s none of my business, but I think it’s disgusting. Do they have any idea how you live? If they’ve got all this money, surely they could give you a raise to tide you over until you get back on your feet? If I were you I’d demand a raise. Or find another job. You’re an intelligent man. There must be a lot of people out there who would love to pay you well for working for them. You are certainly worth far more than those cheapskates deserve, and if I worked there I’d tell them so.”

Jordan’s jaw dropped. Never in his life had he been so passionately defended. She was wonderful. She was certainly wasting her time working as a temp. She should be studying to be a lawyer, or a politician.

Sadie, it seemed, was now regretting her outburst. Her face red, she was making a big pretense of hunting through her briefcase for something. “Sorry,” she muttered. “None of my business.”

“No, it’s all right,” Jordan assured her. “I appreciate your concern. Really.”

She gave him a faint smile, and he found himself smiling back at her, a warm glow beginning to spread around his heart. Fortunately for his peace of mind, Sadie broke the spell by reaching for the computer. “We had better do some work, I suppose, or you might not have any choice about working for... ” She looked over at him. “What’s his name?”

Jordan, still in a haze of well-being, gazed at her blankly. “Whose name?”

“The hotshot, skinflint architect you work for.”

“Er....” Jordan groped for a name and came up with his partner. “Gallagher. Richard Gallagher.” Sorry, Rich, he thought privately.

“Hmm.” Sadie flicked the computer on and sat watching it boot up. “I don’t think I like your Richard Gallagher very much.”

Jordan felt very glad he wasn’t the target of that remark. Deciding it was time to get down to some serious work, he switched his concentration onto the reports that were waiting for his attention.

He was startled a couple of hours later by the shrill alarm of Sadie’s clock. “Time for a break,” she announced as she switched it off. “You probably need to go to the bathroom again.”

He did, but he wasn’t sure he could have mentioned it in such an offhand manner. She may not have had a nurse’s training, he thought as he graciously allowed her to help him to the bathroom, but she had the bedside manner down pat.

The rest of the afternoon passed swiftly, and Jordan was surprised by how much he had accomplished when Sadie’s alarm went off again.

He expected her to grab her coat and take off. Instead, she insisted on heating up two of the frozen dinners, albeit serving them with a faint air of disgust, and then hung up the curtains again. She wrote down what seemed to be a long list of things she said he needed, and left without saying how she intended to pay for them.

Her stern command to be careful still rang in his ears, long after she’d departed. He’d never realized before how quiet was his mooring on the river, and how far from civilization. Even the blaring of his portable TV did little to dispel the gloom that settled over him as he finished the second unappetizing mess in the pitiable foil compartments.

He almost jumped out of his skin when the phone rang. Since Amber was the only one to have that number, he wasn’t surprised to hear her voice when he answered.

“Just checking in to see how you’re doing,” she said cheerfully. “How’s the temp working out?”

“She seems adequate,” Jordan said cautiously. He wasn’t about to wax poetic about his Florence Nightingale. His secretary knew him well enough to tell when he was impressed and he didn’t want her getting the wrong idea.

“I trust you’re behaving yourself?”

He frowned at that. “I never mix business with pleasure, as you very well know.”

“Good. No problems, then?”

“Not so far.”

“How are you managing for meals?”

“I’m doing fine with the frozen dinners.”

“Is there anything else you need? I could drop in tomorrow with some supplies.”

“No!” Jordan lowered his voice. “Thank you, Amber, but that won’t be necessary. Sa... Miss Milligan offered to bring in what I need.” If she can carry them all, he added inwardly.

“Sounds as if she’s taking good care of you, then.”

She didn’t know the half of it, Jordan thought with a smug smile as he replaced the receiver. He’d landed himself one heck of a deal. An efficient temp, a great cook, an attentive nurse and no strings. What else could any well-confirmed bachelor ask for?

He rubbed his hands together and leaned back on the lumpy couch. It looked as if Jordan Trent had fallen smack on his feet again. He was beginning to look forward to the next four weeks after all.