Читать книгу Misbehaving with the Millionaire: The Millionaire's Misbehaving Mistress - Kimberly Lang - Страница 14

CHAPTER NINE

THE next few days passed in a blur for Gwen. Sometimes it seemed like a rainbow-colored blur, so perfect she felt she’d stepped into someone else’s much-more-exciting and perfect life.

First had been Will coming home on Monday with a business proposition for her: consulting on the upcoming meeting with the Japanese company HarCorp wanted to join with in its Asian expansion. She’d wanted to squeal with the excitement.

Suddenly there weren’t enough hours in the day to be Miss Behavior, Evie’s etiquette tutor and Will’s consultant and Japanese tutor. But both Harrisons managed to excel at whatever she threw at them.

Gwen never had a doubt Evie would shine socially, but the surprise came as Evie took an interest in the family business and quickly showed business savvy was an inherited trait. Family dinners moved from the basics of table manners and polite conversation to proper discourse on current events and HarCorp company business. Evie managed to retain her natural exuberance and charm while acquiring a polish fine enough for the most critical of society’s elite. With her good looks and intelligence, Evie was destined to set Dallas on fire.

While Will picked up Japanese with a speed that impressed her, he chafed against the strictures of Japanese etiquette, his frustration at not being able to “cut to the chase” more than evident. But Will was a consummate businessman, and he didn’t need any help in that department. Aside from a reminder to put the BlackBerry on silent, of course.

Both Evie and Will would be great successes on her résumé.

But for someone who’d always measured her happiness by professional success, Gwen couldn’t deny that the best part of her day now came after Evie went to bed. Once Evie’s door closed, Will transformed from charming boss and loving big brother into a bedroom-eyed Romeo intent on charming her in every way—including in her bed.

And she wasn’t naive enough to believe Evie was ignorant of her and Will’s relationship. No fifteen-year-old went to bed that early on a regular basis. Although she and Will tried hard not to make the physical side of their relationship blatant, Gwen knew Evie intentionally gave them privacy in the evenings.

Gwen didn’t know where she and Will were headed—if they were headed anywhere at all—but she told herself she didn’t care. Will never mentioned a future beyond the end of her contractual obligations, but they were all so focused on the events of the next few weeks, she couldn’t read anything into it. She was living in the minute—enjoying what she could while she could. Gwen adored Evie, and her feelings for Will got more complicated every day, but she was taking her sister’s advice to just take one day at a time. So far, that plan was working quite well.

Only one small problem flawed her otherwise halcyon existence—Tish’s innuendos. She hadn’t mentioned the column to Will or Evie since Monday night, but the fallout from Tish’s gossip hadn’t been pleasant. Two clients had backed out of their contracts already—one for a series of classes at a private elementary school and the other for a military wives’ event. It took fancy footwork on her part to calm the sponsors of two of the debutante clubs that formed the backbone of her deb business. Half-truths and cajoling—and a little questioning of Tish’s sanity and sources—managed to pacify the most conservative of her clients, if only temporarily.

She’d taken the opportunity to instruct her TeenSpace readers on the inappropriateness of speculation and evils of spreading gossip. She was also ignoring Tish’s e-mails outright.

By Friday, the furor caused by Tish’s column had calmed for the most part. Life was good. And when Evie returned from her afternoon swim with an enormous smile and an even bigger favor to ask of Gwen, she just couldn’t say no.

At seven forty-five—the first time Will had worked late in two weeks—Gwen finally heard the front door open and close and the rattle of Will’s keys as he dropped them on the hall table.

“Anybody home?”

“In here,” Gwen called from the den where she’d been nursing a glass of Merlot for the last half hour and watching TV.

Will rounded the corner looking slightly disheveled and completely adorable. Her heart skipped a beat at his smile. “It’s awfully quiet. Do I want to know?”

She laughed. “No drama.” Yet. “Mrs. Gray needed to leave early, so your dinner is warming in the oven. Evie is in her room.”

“Really?” One eyebrow raised with the question. “Then I can do this.” Without warning, Will leaned down and kissed her. A simple “Honey-I’m-home” kiss that seemed perfectly right at the moment and sent a happy little thrill through her. “How was your day?”

“Great. And yours?”

He grunted.

“That good, huh? Can I get you a drink?” He nodded, and Gwen went to the bar feeling oddly domestic at the Ozzie and Harriet scenario as Will loosened his tie and got comfortable on the couch.

Will rubbed his temples. “Is Evie sick?”

“No. I’m pretty sure she’s on the phone.” That was almost a given, considering. “Why?”

“Then I’m not sure I want to know why she’s in her room this early. Do I even want to ask?”

Perceptive man. She took a deep breath. “Evie wanted me to talk to you about something.”

“Uh-oh.” He took the glass she proffered and nodded his thanks. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because she’d be in here otherwise, pestering me to death if it was something simple like a new phone or clothes. Instead she’s put you up to it.” He cut his eyes sideways at her as she sat. “She’s smart, you know. You can talk me into almost anything. Plus, she figures if you’re on her side, I’m bound to give in to whatever it is.”

Gwen shrugged. Good Lord, she was picking up Evie’s bad habits.

“You might as well hit me with it. I promise not to shoot the messenger.”

Gwen mentally crossed her fingers. “Evie met a boy—a young man, I mean—at the pool today. He’s asked her to the movies tomorrow night.”

Will sat his glass down carefully and rubbed his eyes. “And?”

“And?” Gwen wanted to hit him with something. “There is no ‘and.’ Evie’s been asked on a date and she wants to know if you’ll let her go.”

“Who is this kid?”

“Peter Asbury. Evie says he’s sixteen and lives two floors down.”

He nodded, but his expressionless face kept Gwen from figuring out how he felt about this new turn of events. “I know his father. He’s the head of something at the university.”

“Dean of Students.” Gwen supplied automatically. “Well?”

Will swirled his drink in his glass. “She’s too young to be dating.”

“She’s fifteen. It’s not out of the ordinary or anything.” Will’s dry tone bothered her. Evie expected him to go through the roof at the thought of her dating, which was why she’d conned Gwen into being the one to broach the subject. Gwen hadn’t expected fireworks, but Will could be discussing the weather for all the lack of emotion in his voice. The idea of hitting him sounded better by the moment.

“What did you say when she asked you?”

“I didn’t say anything.” That wasn’t entirely true. She’d shared Evie’s teenage glee like Sarah had shared hers years ago. “You’re the one who has to okay it, not me.”

“I’m asking for your opinion, though. Do you think she should go? This is new territory for me.”

Get used to it. Evie’s going to have the boys eating out of her hand and you’ll be beating them off with a stick for the rest of your born days. “Do I think she’s old enough? Probably. Do I think she’s ready? It’s hard to say. Do I think she’s dying to go? Yes, definitely.”

Will sighed, the sound of a man who had resigned himself to the grim reality of a teenage sister teetering on the edge of boy-crazy. “I guess it was bound to happen eventually.”

Gwen hid her smile behind her wineglass.

“I want to meet him first, though,” he grumbled.

“Why don’t you invite him to dinner tomorrow night before the movie. You can grill him on his intentions and put the fear of God in him before they leave.”

Will perked up at her last statement. “Oh, I like that idea. Fear is a good thing. Anything else I need to know about before I talk to Evie?”

“Nope.” Gwen wanted to do a little happy dance for Evie. Finally Evie could make some friends her own age.

“Evie! Get in here!”

Shocked at the heat in his voice, Gwen stared at Will.

Will winked at her. “No sense letting her think this is going to be easy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then I’ll leave you to it.”

Evie stuck her head around the door frame. “Yes, Will?”

“The Asbury kid?”

Gwen slipped past Evie and whispered “Good luck” as Evie fumbled for words. She repressed the urge to giggle as Evie straightened her shoulders but still seemed to slink in to the room to get Will’s permission for something she desperately wanted. In the privacy of her room, though, she succumbed to the urge to both giggle and do her happy dance.

Feeling like the champion of teenagers everywhere, she logged in to her Miss Behavior e-mail, ready to sort out all the angst-ridden adolescents of the world. It kept her busy for the next half hour until Evie knocked on her door.

“He said I could go!” Evie’s ear-to-ear grin was infectious.

“I’m so glad, sweetie.”

Evie wrapped her in a hug. “Thanks, Gwen. I’m going to go call Peter and figure out what I’m going to wear tomorrow. G’night.”

“’Night.”

Chuckling at Evie’s obvious glee, Gwen started work on her next column—about first dates in honor of Evie—and didn’t look up until she heard another knock on her door.

She half expected Evie to come in with an armload of clothes, but seeing Will there wasn’t exactly a surprise, either.

He closed the door and leaned against it. “You didn’t come back out.” She’d never heard him so disgruntled.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you needed company.”

“Evie disappeared to her room to call that boy back and you’ve been in here all night. I’ve been bored. And I had to eat dinner by myself.”

This time she did laugh at his grumbling, and he looked at her sharply. “You find that funny?”

“For someone who ate either alone or in the company of his BlackBerry until a few days ago, you’ve certainly set up camp on the other side now.”

He shrugged. He and Evie had so many of the same mannerisms that it had to be genetic. “What can I say? I’m getting domesticated.”

Her heart flipped at the word “domesticated.” It sounded so hearth-and-home and Will didn’t sound the least bit upset with the idea. When he smiled at her and crossed the room to pull her into his arms, that little warm spot in her heart she’d been keeping alive but carefully corralled blossomed into something she could no longer deny.

Her rational brain argued it could be the biggest mistake of her life, leading only to heartache and regret. But rationality couldn’t hold back the knowledge that raced through her with such clarity it couldn’t be anything else.

God help her. She was falling in love with Will Harrison.

Intimidating the Asbury boy proved immensely enjoyable. Will didn’t doubt for a second Evie would be home by curfew. Evie was shooting daggers at him by the time she left, and his shins would be covered in bruises tomorrow from Gwen’s well-aimed kicks every time she felt he crossed a line at dinner.

From the feel of it, he’d crossed several.

If that’s what it took to convince Peter Asbury to keep his hands to himself, though, then his bruised shins would be well worth it.

He helped Gwen clear the remnants of their dinner from the table. As she loaded glasses into the dishwasher, she shook her head at him. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Will Harrison.”

“What for?”

“You know exactly what for. I hope Evie comes up with a suitable revenge for your behavior tonight.”

“Hey, all she has to do to avoid it is not date. I’d be good with that.”

She wiped her hands on a towel and leaned a hip against the counter. “You are in for a long, painful journey through Evie’s adolescence. And I’m starting to think you completely deserve it.” She tossed him the towel and indicated he should wipe off the counter behind him. To his utter amazement, he did.

Good Lord, he was becoming domesticated. He’d never held a conversation with a woman he was romantically involved with in a kitchen before—much less helped tidy it while he did.

Gwen was a far cry from the usual husband-hunting trophy-wives-in-training he was used to. Instead of Prada and diamonds, she wore faded jeans and a pukka shell necklace Evie had given her. And instead of the normal topics of conversation he was accustomed to, she was teasing him and talking about the kid. It was a cozy domestic scene probably being played out in millions of households across the planet.

It was odd. It was strange. Something nagged at him that he should be horrified, but he wasn’t. It was oddly comfortable, and somehow seemingly natural.

Gwen cocked her head at him and raised an eyebrow. “Was all that big-brother caveman posturing really necessary?”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to side with Evie.”

Her chin went up a notch. “On behalf of younger sisters everywhere, I think I should.”

“You can’t. We have to present a united front.”

Her eyes widened, and he knew he’d said the wrong thing. Her next quiet words confirmed it.

“I don’t get a vote here. I may side with Evie at heart, but I won’t undermine your authority.”