Читать книгу Reasons for Revenge: Scorned by the Boss - Maureen Child - Страница 8

Caitlyn Monroe knocked once, then entered the lion’s den.

She was prepared, like any good lion trainer, for whatever might be waiting for her. A furious, chained beast looking for something to chew on? Probably. A pussycat? Not likely. In the three years she’d worked for Jefferson Lyon she’d learned that the man was much more likely to be snarly and aggressive than accommodating.

Jefferson was used to getting his own way. In fact, he accepted nothing less. Which was what made him both an amazingly successful businessman and a sometimes pain-in-the-neck boss.

But this she was used to. Dealing with Jefferson’s demands was normal. And after the jolt she’d had over the weekend, she was ready for the normal. The everyday. The routine. She appreciated the fact that she knew Jefferson Lyon. Knew what to expect and wouldn’t be blindsided by something shattering coming out of nowhere.

No, thanks, she thought. She’d had enough of that Saturday night.

Her boss looked up when she entered, and just for a minute, Caitlyn allowed herself to appreciate the view. Jefferson’s jaw was strong and square, his blue eyes piercing enough to see through any attempts at deception and his tawny hair cut and styled to lay fashionably at his collar. A modern-day pirate with less conscience, when it came to business, than Bluebeard.

Most of the people who worked for him walked a wide berth around the magnate. Just the sound of him coming down the halls was usually enough to send people scattering. He had the reputation of being a hard man. Not always fair about it, either. He didn’t suffer fools easily and expected—demanded—perfection.

So far, Caitlyn had been able to provide it. She ran his office and most of his life with proficiency. As Jefferson Lyon’s personal assistant, she was expected to hold her ground against his overpowering personality. Before she had come to work here, the man had gone through assistants every couple of months. But Caitlyn was the youngest of five children in her family and she was more than used to speaking up and making herself heard.

“What is it?” he snapped and lowered his gaze back to the sheaf of files strewn across his wide mahogany desk.

Situation normal, Caitlyn thought as she let her gaze slide around the huge office. The walls were painted a deep twilight-blue, and several paintings of Lyon ships at sea dotted the wide expanse. There were two plush leather sofas facing each other in front of a gas fireplace that was cold now and a conference table sat beside a wet bar on the other side of the room. Behind Jefferson’s desk, floor-to-ceiling windows provided a gorgeous view of the harbor.

“And good morning to you, too,” she said, not put off by the attitude. God knows she’d had plenty of time to adjust to it.

When she’d first started working for him, Caitlyn had foolishly thought that as his assistant, she would be sort of his partner. That they would have a working relationship that would be more than his issuing orders and her leaping to fulfill them.

Hadn’t taken long to disabuse her of that notion.

Jefferson didn’t have partners. He had employees. Thousands of them. And Caitlyn was simply one of the crowd. Still, it was a good job and she was good at it. Besides, she knew he’d be lost without her, even if he wasn’t consciously aware of that little fact.

Walking across the room, she laid a single sheet of paper down on top of the files and waited for him to pick it up and study it. “Your attorneys faxed over the numbers on the Morgan shipping line. They say it looks like a good deal.”

He glanced at her again and she saw a flash of interest. “I decide what looks like a good deal,” he reminded her.

“Right.” She bit her lip to keep from saying that if he hadn’t wanted his attorneys’ opinion, then why ask for it? It wouldn’t do any good, and frankly, he wouldn’t want to hear it. Jefferson Lyon made his own rules. He would listen to some opinions, true, but if he didn’t agree with them, then he blew them off and did whatever he thought best.

She tapped the toe of her black high-heeled shoe against the plush ocean-blue carpet. While she waited, she looked past Jefferson at the sea stretching out for what seemed forever. Passenger liners vied with cargo ships at the busy harbor. Several of those cargo ships boasted the stylized bright red lion that was the Lyon shipping company’s logo. Tugboats steered boats three times their size safely out to sea. Traffic streamed over the Vincent Thomas Bridge and sunlight glittered off the surface of the ocean like diamonds, winking.

Lyon Shipping operated out of San Pedro, California, right on top of one of the busiest harbors in the country. From here, Jefferson could turn around and look at his ships as they steamed in and out of the harbor. He could see the day-to-day workings on the docks—the heavy cranes, the dockworkers loading and offloading, the steady flow of ocean traffic that made him one of the most wealthy men in the world.

But Jefferson wasn’t the type to turn and admire the scenery. Instead, he spent most of his time with his back to the window and his gaze fixed on spreadsheets.

“Is there something else?” he asked when she didn’t leave.

She shifted her gaze to his and felt the same jolt she always did when those blue eyes of his made contact with hers. Instantly, she thought of the conversation she’d had with Peter, her now ex-fiancé, on Saturday night.

“You don’t want to marry me, Cait,” he said, shaking his head and pulling out his wallet. He yanked out a twenty, tossed it onto the table to pay for their drinks, then looked at her again. “It’s not me you’re in love with.”

Caitlyn looked at him as if he’d sprouted another head. “Hello? Wearing your ring.” She waved her hand at him, just in case he’d forgotten about the two-carat solitaire he’d presented her with just six months before. “Who else do you think I’m interested in marrying?”

Peter blew out a breath. “Isn’t it obvious? Every time we’re together, all you do is talk about Jefferson Lyon. What he did, what he said, what he’s planning.”

Did she, really? She hadn’t actually noticed. But, even if she did, so what?

“You talk about your boss, too,” Caitlyn reminded him hotly. “It’s called conversation.”

“No, it’s not just conversation. It’s him. Lyon.”

“What about him?”

“You’re in love with him.”

“What?” Caitlyn’s voice hit a shrieky sound only dogs should have been able to hear. “You’re crazy.”

“I don’t think so,” Peter said. “And I’m not going to marry someone who really wants someone else.”

“Fine,” Caitlyn said, tugging the diamond from her finger and laying it on the table in front of him. “Here. You don’t want to marry me? Take your ring. But don’t try to blame this on me, Peter.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t even see how you feel about that guy.”

“He’s my boss. That’s all.”

“Yeah?” Peter scooted out of the booth and stood beside the table, staring down at her. “You go right ahead thinking that, then, Cait. But just so you know, Lyon’s never going to see you as anything other than his assistant. He looks at you and sees another piece of office equipment. Nothing else.”

Caitlyn didn’t even know what to say to that. She’d been blindsided by this whole conversation. All she’d done was tell him about Jeff’s plans to buy a cruise ship and how she’d miss the trip to Portugal to check it out because of their upcoming wedding. Then Peter’s whole attitude had changed and he’d launched into the unexpected calling off of a wedding she’d spent six months putting together.

Just a month off now, the invitations had gone out, the gifts were already pouring in, substantial deposits had been made to the cliffside locale in Laguna. And now it seemed she’d be canceling everything.

Why in the world would Peter think she was in love with her boss? For god’s sake, Jefferson Lyon was arrogant, pushy, proud and, well, downright annoying. Was she supposed to hate her job? Would that have made life easier for Peter?

“I’m sorry it worked out like this,” Peter said, and started to reach out one hand toward her. He caught himself just in time, though, and let his hand fall back to his side. “I think we would have been good together.”

“You’re wrong about me,” she said, looking up at a man she’d thought to spend the rest of her life with.

“For your sake,” Peter said wistfully, “I wish that were true.”

Then he left, and Caitlyn was alone with a naked finger and a yawning emptiness inside her.

“Caitlyn!”

Jefferson’s voice snapped at her like a rifle shot and wrenched her from her memories. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Not like you to be so unfocused,” he said.

“I was just …” What? she asked herself. Are you really going to stand there and tell him that your fiancé broke up with you because he thinks you’re in love with the boss? Oh, wouldn’t that be a good time? Get it together, Caitlyn.

“Just, what?” he asked, shooting her a half-interested glance as he studied the spreadsheet in front of him.

“Nothing.” She wasn’t going to tell him. Not about canceling the wedding. Oh, she’d have to eventually, since she’d put in for four weeks of honeymoon time. And now, sadly, she wouldn’t be needing it. “I wanted to remind you—you’ve got a two o’clock appointment with the head of Simpson Furniture and a dinner date with Claudia.”

Jefferson leaned back in his deep navy-blue leather chair, folded his hands over his midsection and said, “Don’t have time for Claudia today. Cancel it, will you? And … send her something.”

Caitlyn sighed, already anticipating the conversation she’d have to have with Claudia Stevens, the latest in a long string of gorgeous models and actresses. Claudia wasn’t used to men not dropping to their knees to adore her. She wanted Jefferson Lyon’s complete attention and she was never going to get it.

Caitlyn had known this would be coming. The man always canceled out on his dates. Or, rather, he had her cancel them. To Jefferson, work always came first and his life a very slow second. In three years she’d never seen him date a woman longer than six weeks—and those that lasted that long were seriously forgiving women.

Peter was sooooo wrong about her. She could never love a man like Jefferson Lyon. There was simply no future in it.

“She won’t be happy.”

He gave her a brief conspiratorial smile. “Hence the gift. Think jewelry.”

“Fine,” she said. “Gold or silver?”

He straightened up, grabbed his pen and turned back to the sheaf of papers awaiting his attention. “Silver.”

“What was I thinking?” Caitlyn muttered—because, of course, gold wasn’t gifted until the woman in question had lasted at least three weeks. “I’ll take care of it.”

“I have every confidence in you,” he said, but she was already leaving, walking back across the immense office. “And Caitlyn?”

She stopped, turned to look at him and noticed that the sunlight filtering in through the shaded glass gilded his hair. Frowning at that stray thought, she said, “Yes?”

“No interruptions today. Except for the two o’clock, I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Right.” She walked through the door, closed it behind her and leaned back against it.

She’d made it. Made it through without once caving in to the shakes still quivering her stomach. Made it without feeling her eyes well up or her temper spike. She’d managed to hold it together and talk to Jefferson without once letting her emotions slip through.

After all, just because her fiancé had dumped her didn’t mean life as she knew it was over.

Jefferson worked through the day, got most of the immediate problems taken care of and finally looked up around six. Behind him, the sun was spreading color across the sky as it slid into the ocean. He didn’t take the time to admire it, though. There were still plenty of things that needed his attention. Most importantly the new bid on the passenger liner he was buying. A glance at the cover letter had him wincing and stretching out one hand to hit the buzzer on the intercom.

“Caitlyn, I need to see you.”

She opened the door a minute later, her purse slung over her shoulder as if he’d caught her on her way out. “What is it?”

“This,” he said, standing up and walking across the room. He held out the paper to her and said, “Read the second paragraph.”

Jefferson watched her tuck a strand of dark blond hair behind one ear as she read the document. And he saw her expression change slightly as soon as she caught the error he’d found only moments ago. This wasn’t like her. The best assistant he’d ever had, Caitlyn simply didn’t make mistakes. It was one of the reasons they did so well together.

His world ran smoothly, just the way he wanted it to. No surprises. No jolts. Everything neatly laid out in a pattern he chose. For Caitlyn to suddenly start making errors sent unexpected ripples through his universe.

“I’ll fix it immediately,” she said, lifting her gaze to his.

“Good. But what concerns me most is that the mistake happened in the first place.” He jabbed his index finger at the line that had caught his attention. “Offering five hundred million dollars for the cruise ship I’ve already agreed to pay fifty million for is not acceptable.”

She blew out a breath that ruffled the dark blond hair over her big brown eyes. “I know. But, Jefferson, no one saw this but you. It’s not as if the offer actually went out this way.”

“It could have.”

“But it didn’t.”

He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her. Even in her high heels, she came in a good five inches shorter than his own six feet two inches. “This isn’t like you.”

She sighed again and admitted, “I didn’t type this up. Georgia did.”

Impatience lit a fire in his belly. He was a man who expected the same perfection from his employees as he did from himself. And as his admin, Caitlyn was responsible for the paperwork generated from this office. The fact that she was subcontracting to the secretaries irritated him.

“And why was Georgia involved at all? The woman is just barely competent.” An older woman, Georgia Morris had been with his family’s company for twenty years. She was practically an institution at Lyon Shipping. But that didn’t mean that Jefferson was blind to the woman’s ineptitude.

He was all for loyalty, but he had his limits.

Instantly, though, Caitlyn went on the defensive. Her posture straightened up and her chin rose to a defiant tilt. “Georgia’s perfectly competent. She works hard. This was a simple mistake.”

“Worth four hundred and fifty million dollars.”

She winced. “She was trying to help me out.”

“And why do you suddenly need help in doing a job you’ve performed for two years?”

“Three.”

“What?”

“Three years,” she said on a huff. “I’ve worked for you for three years.”

He hadn’t realized that. But at the same time, it was as if she’d always been there. A part of his day. An integral part of his business.

“Even more of a reason you shouldn’t require assistance,” Jefferson said, baffled at the way her eyes were beginning to flash. What in hell did she have to be upset about?

As if she’d read his mind, she took a moment and deliberately tried to calm herself. A long, deep breath, a tightening of her jaw and a long exhalation passed before she spoke again.

“I was having a hard day,” she finally said. “Georgia was being nice.”

“Nice doesn’t get the work done,” Jefferson said tightly. He had no interest in why Caitlyn had been having a “hard day.” He didn’t get involved in his employees’ personal lives. Made for a quagmire in the office. Better that everyone kept their personal lives personal.

“No surprise there,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

He scowled at her. “And if you’re still planning on having Georgia take over for you while you’re on your honeymoon, think again. Arrange with a temp agency to send someone here who’ll be able to get the job done without costly mistakes.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said, slinging her purse off her shoulder and heading for her desk.

Jefferson laughed shortly and followed her. “It’s very necessary. You’ll be gone four weeks, and Georgia running this office is unacceptable—not to mention impossible.”

“No,” Caitlyn said as she pulled out her desk chair and booted up her computer. “What I meant was, it won’t be necessary to call a temp agency. I won’t be leaving, after all.”

Frowning, Jefferson walked around her desk, watching her as she set the cover letter down and prepared to retype it. It was only then he noticed that the diamond she’d worn for the last six months was missing from her left hand. This then was the reason for the hard day.

Damn it.

He scrubbed one hand across the back of his neck. He didn’t want to know about her personal life. He preferred keeping business business. If she hadn’t asked for four weeks off for a honeymoon, he might never have known that Caitlyn was getting married at all.

And now it seemed that not only wasn’t the wedding happening but now that she’d brought it up, he was going to be forced into talking about it.

“What happened to the honeymoon?”

“Can’t have one without a wedding,” she quipped brightly, but managed to avoid looking up at him.

What was one supposed to say at a time like this anyway? Sorry? Congratulations? That would be more to his way of thinking. Why anyone would want to get married and link themselves forever to one human being who would no doubt batter them with complaints and whining for the rest of their lives was beyond Jefferson.

Still, better not to offer those particular thoughts. “So it’s off.”

“That would be a yes,” she said, and clicked her mouse to open the word-processing program on her computer.

Apparently he’d been wrong. She had no more interest in talking about her ex than he had in listening to it. God knew that made his life easier. Yet, he couldn’t help wondering why she wasn’t eager to discuss it in detail.

In his experience, females liked nothing better than boring men into comas discussing their feelings, their needs, their desires, their complaints. Clearly, Caitlyn was an exception to that rule.

One eyebrow lifting, he watched as her small, efficient hands moved over the keyboard like a concert pianist’s. Smooth, fast, she was finished in moments and hitting the print button. As a fresh sheet of paper slid from the printer, she reached over, plucked it up and handed it to him.

“There. Crisis averted.”

He studied it briefly, nodded at the change made, then looked at her again. Whatever the reason behind the cancellation of her wedding, she seemed to be handling it well. For which he was grateful. He didn’t want a weeping woman hanging about the office. He wanted his life, his world to travel on in the same way it always had. Seamlessly.

“Thanks.”

She nodded, turned off the computer and gathered up her purse again. “If that’s all, I’m taking off.”

“Fine,” he said, stepping back, already headed back for his office. Then something occurred to him and he stopped on the threshold and looked at her. “Since you’re not getting married, after all, I’m assuming you’ll be available for the trip to Portugal.”

“What?”

Walking into his office, Jefferson kept talking, assuming—rightly—that she would be following after him. “We leave in three weeks. I want to check out the new cruise ship in person. I’ll need you there with me. And since your plans have changed, I see no reason why you shouldn’t be there.”

He sat behind his desk, set the new cover letter atop the official offer and leaned back in his chair as she approached. His gaze narrowed as he noticed the flash of fire in her eyes and the tight slash of her mouth.

“That’s it?” she said. “That’s all you’ve got to say.”

“About what?”

“About my not getting married.”

“What more should I say?”

“Oh,” she countered, “nothing at all.” But her tone clearly indicated she’d expected something more.

“If you’re looking for my condolences, fine. You have them.”

“Wow.” She slapped one hand to her chest and widened her eyes in feigned shock. “That was just so heartfelt, Jefferson. Wait just a minute while I catch my breath.”

“I beg your pardon?” Standing up now, he faced her and watched as thoughts, emotions churned across the surface of her eyes. In the years they had worked together Caitlyn had never become emotional. Sarcastic, yes. But she’d kept their relationship as businesslike as he had. Until just this moment.

“You’re not sorry at all. You’re just glad that I’ll be at your beck and call.”

“You’re always at my beck and call,” he pointed out, not sure exactly where the anger was coming from.

“Oh, for god’s sake. I am, aren’t I?” she asked, staring at him as though she’d never seen him before.

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Straightening up, he laid both hands atop his desk.

“You’re right,” she said. “That’s my job. And I’m good at it. Too good, probably, which is why this is so twisted and messed up now. But Peter was so wrong.”

“Peter? Who’s Peter?”

“My fiancé.” She shot him a withering glance. “My god, I was engaged to the man for six months and you didn’t even know his name.”

“Why would I know the damned man’s name?” Jefferson asked, shoving his hands into his slacks pockets. This conversation was taking a turn he didn’t care for.

“Because,” she pointed out, glaring at him, “in human cultures, it’s considered normal behavior to be interested in your fellow workers.”

He snorted. “You’re not a fellow worker,” he pointed out. “You’re my employee.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded. “And that’s it?”

“What more is there?”

“You know,” Caitlyn snapped, tugging at the purse strap hitched over her shoulder, “I really believe you actually mean that. You have no clue. None whatsoever.”

“About what?”

“If you don’t know, I couldn’t possibly explain it to you.”

“Aah, the last resort of the cornered female,” he said, shaking his head now. “I expected better of you, Caitlyn.”

“And I expected …” She stopped, blew out a hard breath that puffed her bangs up off her forehead so that he was treated to another peek at the dangerous sparks shooting in her eyes. “I don’t know why I expected anything different. So you know what? Never mind.”

“Excellent idea,” Jefferson said, grabbing the opportunity to end this discussion as quickly as possible. For whatever reason, his steady, dependable assistant had slipped off her mental track. “We’ll forget this conversation ever took place.”

“You will, too, won’t you?” Caitlyn tightened her grip on the strap of her purse, turned and headed for the door. “Well, I won’t be forgetting anytime soon, Jefferson.”

She was gone a moment later and he was left with irritation pulsing inside. He wasn’t accustomed to anyone walking out on him. And he didn’t like it.