Читать книгу Stolen Kisses With Her Boss - Susan Carlisle - Страница 8
ОглавлениеCYNTHIA MARCUM TAPPED the mouse of her laptop. Her emails came into view. Scanning them, she paused when she saw one from Dr. Sean Donavon. Her body tingled in anticipation. Why would he be emailing her? Her interactions had always been with his staff. Had she done something wrong?
She had been doing Dr. Donavon’s transcription for just over a month now. He was an otolaryngologist and one of five surgeons she typed dictation for in the metropolitan Birmingham, Alabama area. The pay was so good she’d added him to her client list despite already having a full load. She could use the money. Her brothers, Mark and Rick, were always in need of something costing at least a hundred dollars.
The money wasn’t the only thing she enjoyed about working for the mystery doctor. She loved the sound of his voice. It drew her in. She always saved his tapes for last. His deep resonating tone was smooth and silky like warm chocolate. It brought to mind a cool night with rain tapping against a tin roof and him pulling her close.
Her imagination worked overtime where Dr. Donavon was concerned. She couldn’t get enough of listening to him, often playing his tapes back more than once. Even all the medical terms sounded erotic when he uttered them.
She often wondered if he looked like he sounded. All dark and sexy.
A humph escaped her. Yeah, more like short and bald. That had happened one time when she had met a radio DJ. Based on his voice she’d built him up into this young, buff guy who every woman would want. Unfortunately, he turned out to be a short, middle-aged man with a gray ponytail. To say she had been disappointed was an understatement.
Listening to Dr. Donavon had become her romantic outlet. Since she currently had no one special in her life, hearing his voice had filled that void. She’d been in a relationship when her parents died. Wedding bells with Dave hadn’t seemed too far off, then life had happened. Her parents’ estate issues, the needs of her brothers and everything in between had worked against their relationship.
Dave had soon begun complaining that she wasn’t spending enough time with him. It had then gone into, “I didn’t sign on to help raise two teenage boys.” Finally, he’d told her he had found someone else. In a way Cynthia was relieved. He just didn’t share her mind-set about the importance of family. He didn’t understand her or the necessity of keeping her family together at all costs.
After they broke up, she didn’t try to have another solid relationship. She’d dated a few times but never let the guys close enough to matter. Usually, when they found out she was responsible for her brothers, they quickly backed away. Now wasn’t the time for a man and she’d accepted that. Sadly, until the boys were more settled in life she would just have to get her thrills from listening to Dr. Donavon. And he was well worth listening to.
Her finger hovered over the computer mouse. Would his emails be just as amazing? Yeah right. She’d been without a man far too long when fantasy started overtaking reality. She clicked the email, opening it.
Then she read the black words against the white screen.
Hello, Ms. Marcum,
My office manager gave me your name as the person who has been preparing my transcriptions. I’m very impressed with your work.
The reason I’m contacting you is that I am currently in the middle of putting together a grant proposal and need to have some extra reports transcribed over the next few weeks. I wanted to know if you would be willing to take on this additional work. Of course I will compensate you for your time.
I would really appreciate your help.
Regards,
S. Donavon
Nope. Nothing sexy there. But he sounded nice. Considerate. In her mind she could almost hear him say the words. Cynthia reread the message. There wasn’t much time in her days. Taking on more work might be difficult. This was Rick’s senior year in high school so what extra hours she had were spent going to his activities. Yet the extra money Dr. Donavon offered would help pay for Mark’s college tuition that was due soon.
Plus, she liked to keep her clients happy. Took pride in her work. So far that hadn’t been a problem with any of her employers. And she would get to listen to his voice more often. But if she didn’t agree to Dr. Donavon’s request would he take all his work elsewhere? She couldn’t afford to let that happen.
Moving the cursor to the reply button, she clicked and typed.
Dr. Donavon,
I’m glad you’re pleased with my work. My time is tight at present, but I’ll do my best to fit in any extra reports you send.
I don’t know how quick a turnaround time I can promise, but I will make it as short as possible.
Cynthia
Scanning the message, she made sure she had used the correct tone, then clicked “send”. She didn’t want to lose his business but couldn’t overextend herself either. Her brothers, her family, took priority—always. The upside was if there was enough money from the extra work maybe she could start looking for a new car. Hers was on its last legs. She grinned. More like last tire.
Since she had left nursing school to become a full-time transcriptionist she’d gained a reputation as being competent and professional. It had been difficult to build a client list. She’d been tickled to add Dr. Donavon. As a surgeon, he produced plenty of work to keep her busy. He also paid better than her other clients. Getting to enjoy his voice almost daily was an added perk.
“Hey, Cyn,” Rick called. His tall, lanky body appeared in the doorway of the small front room of their house she used as an office. He wore his usual uniform of jeans and well-worn T-shirt. “I’m going over to Joey’s house.”
Cynthia swiveled in the chair to face him. “Do you have that project done?”
“Almost.” He put up a hand stopping her from saying more. “I’ll have it finished tomorrow and it isn’t due for another week. Don’t worry, I have all A’s.”
“Yeah, but you don’t want that to slip. That scholarship you’re after depends on it.”
Rick waved a hand at her. “You worry too much. See ya.”
Seconds later the back door squeaked open and slammed closed.
She did worry. That had been her full-time job since her parents had died in that devastating car accident. She’d become guardian of her brothers when she was only a few years older. It hadn’t been easy for any of them but they were making it.
Her father had told her more than once, “Cynthia, family is everything. You have to support your family.” She lived by that motto. She would honor her parents by seeing that her brothers had a good start in the world. Once they were settled, she would go back to school and think about her own future. She missed that carefree time when she’d been on her own. The times she hadn’t had to consider her brothers before she did something as simple as go out for the night.
The three of them had inherited the house, but there were still day-to-day expenses to meet. Those came out of her paycheck. Her parents had left some money but it wouldn’t last long if she tapped into it. What her parents had left them was for the boys’ higher education or to help them buy their own place.
Enough pondering. She had work to finish. Glancing at her email list one last time, she saw that there was a new note from Dr. Donavon. She opened it.
I can’t say thank you enough.
I’ll send over the dictation electronically this afternoon and will need the reports by Monday morning. Is that doable? If you can get them done by then I’ll owe you big-time.
S. Donavon
She could imagine the smile on his face when he read her email. She liked it that she’d made him happy. But work so soon? This weekend? He really must be in a hurry. Well, she knew what her plans were for tonight and tomorrow morning.
Dr. Donavon,
I’ll do my best to have them ready by Monday.
Cynthia
Seconds later he came back.
You’re a lifesaver.
S. Donavon
Cynthia wasn’t sure she could be anyone else’s lifesaver. She was already taking care of more people than she could manage now. Taking on someone else might sink her boat. What would it be like to have someone take care of her for a change?
The kitchen door opened and slammed shut. “Cyn?” Mark, who was just three years younger than her, called.
“In here.”
He flopped into the cushion chair beside her desk and flung a leg over the arm.
“So how did it go today?” Cynthia asked.
“I’m going to quit.”
His blunt statement wasn’t unexpected. She leaned toward him, gripping the arms of her chair. Her parents had wanted them all to get a college education. She’d been fighting Mark’s apathy about doing that for months now. The weight of doing so was starting to get to her. “Why?”
“College doesn’t get you anywhere.” Mark spoke to the floor instead of her.
This was one of those times when she wished she had some backup, someone to turn to. She refused to let her voice rise. “You know Mom and Dad wouldn’t like that.”
“Yeah. But it’s not for me.”
Cynthia moved the chair to face him more directly. “Then what’re you going to do?”
He shrugged and continued to look at that floor. “I don’t know.”
That wasn’t a good plan. “Well, you’re going to have to figure something out.”
Mark jumped to his feet. “Get off my back. You’re not my parent. We can’t all be Rick.” He stomped from the room.
She sighed. Could the day get any better? Mark’s statement hurt on a number of levels. Cynthia missed her parents too. That was why she took her guardianship responsibilities seriously. Wanted to do the best by them. And no, she was not Mark’s parent. If the situation was different she would prefer just being his sister.
Dr. Donavon’s dictation arrived in her transcription system’s inbox right before dinner. The work could wait until after dinner. Her parents had made the evening meal time important and she continued the practice. Her brothers knew that if possible they were expected at home at six during the week so they could spend some time together.
Two hours later she pulled her chair up to her desk. This wasn’t the way she’d planned to spend Friday night, but she would get over it. Doing what had to be done had become a part of her life. She’d have Dr. Donavon’s work to him Monday morning, hoping to impress.
She clicked the dictation inbox and Dr. Donavon’s voice filled her ears. It didn’t take long for her to forget about how tired she was or the amount of housework that needed doing and start enjoying the rich deepness of his voice. If she had to work on Friday night, there were worse jobs to have than one that involved having the sound of a sexy voice in her ear.
* * *
After lunch Monday, Sean settled in behind his desk at his clinic office. Pushing his chair back and putting his feet on his desk, he crossed his ankles and got comfortable. He didn’t usually reread all his reports but in this instance, he couldn’t afford not to. The grant was too important.
His future depended on it. Not to mention the quality of life for his patients, for the vast number of patients who would have their hearing improved and those of other ear, nose and throat doctors as well. With the grant he could continue his research and make that difference.
With the success of his procedure and the patent of a new instrument he would also be financially set for life. He knew too well what it was like being without and he’d vowed never to feel that way again. He’d heard some people call it the Scarlett O’Hara syndrome. He just called it smart.
Long ago he’d hired a financial planner. He was determined not to live paycheck to paycheck as his parents had, wondering if there would be enough cash to pay the bills or buy food. While growing up, more than once he’d been unable to participate with his friends in an activity because there hadn’t been funds. His parents had been and still were the types to fall in with the next big money-making scheme, which always cost them money instead of making them rich as they claimed they one day would be. There had been multi-level marketing, investing in commercial ventures or selling the next great vitamin product. Nothing seemed to work but they were always in for the chance it might.
Sean hated any part of that way of life. Money shouldn’t be squandered. Instead it should be saved and invested. He was determined to do just that. Their attitude toward paying their bills and handling finances embarrassed him. Their philosophy about life was so different from his that they found little in common. Because of that he’d not seen them in almost a year. Even then visits had been short. He wasn’t interested in hearing about the next “get rich quick” plan.
The one thing about his new breakthrough was that it would allow him to put away enough money to support his parents in their old age. He was confident that they would need his help. Despite his bitter feelings about his childhood he would take care of them. No matter what, they were his parents.
Now he only had to get the grant documentation in order. The submission must be flawless. The competition was tight, right down to the written documents. Even the smallest element could make a difference between him and someone else receiving the grant.
Picking up his tablet, he pulled up his most recent reports and started reading. Halfway through the first one, he was pleased to find not a single mistake. Not that he really expected one but he couldn’t be too careful. Ms. Marcum had done a superb job and certainly in a timely manner. He should tell her so.
When his last transcriptionist had taken another position she’d given his office manager Ms. Marcum’s name along with a glowing reference. Because he didn’t have time to waste completing the grant he’d told his office manager to hire her without further question. Not known for making snap decisions, thankfully this one had been a smart one. He didn’t know what would have happened to his grant submission if she hadn’t been willing to take on the additional work.
Now he needed to make sure he kept her. He couldn’t have her quitting just when he needed her the most. He didn’t have time to waste hiring another, especially when there was no guarantee that the next person would be any good. His manager had already said they were lucky to get this one. He needed his dictation done in a timely manner and she had proven she could do that.
Pulling up his email, he entered Cynthia Marcum’s address. Her name made her sound like a middle-aged matron. It didn’t matter what she looked like. What concerned him was the quality of his papers and keeping her typing them.
Ms. Marcum,
I have reviewed your reports and I’m very pleased with your work. Thank you for getting them to me in such a timely manner. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that they were waiting for me when I returned to my office after coming out of surgery today.
I can’t say enough about how much I appreciate your efforts. I hope it’s still okay to send you additional work.
Very gratefully,
S. Marcum
Without hesitation he clicked the “send” button.
* * *
Cynthia was pleased to have his gratitude. It was always nice to get affirmation for her efforts. Good manners and a sexy voice. Two for two as far as she was concerned.
As much as she liked his praise she didn’t want to have to stay up late or work on weekends to get it. Hopefully other work he sent wouldn’t require her doing so. She’d handle that issue when the time came, if it did. She also had to honor her other clients’ needs as well.
Cynthia typed a message.
Dr. Donavon,
I’m so happy you were pleased. Just let me know if I can help out further.
Cynthia
She reread the note twice. It was polite, yet businesslike.
A minute later a message landed in her mailbox.
Thank you! I do, in fact, have more work for you. I will send it through today.
S. Donavon
Maybe she’d offered too quickly. Apparently this grant was extremely important to him. At least he hadn’t put a time period on when he needed these reports returned.
In the middle of the afternoon the doorbell rang. Cynthia answered it to find a delivery man holding a green plant in a blue ceramic pot.
“Cynthia Marcum?”
“Yes.”
“This is for you.” The man handed her the pot.
Dumbfounded, Cynthia was left to stare at it as he climbed into his van. No one had ever sent her something from a florist. There had been flower arrangements when her parents died but never something just for her. What was going on?
She looked down at the full, beautiful plant with broad leaves and a vivid red flower in the center. Tucked under one of the leaves was a white envelope with her name scrawled on it. Closing the door with her foot, she carried the plant to her office and set it on the corner of her desk. Removing the envelope, she pulled out the card inside. Written on it was: “Thanks, Sean Donavon.”
He’d sent her a thank-you plant. Cynthia couldn’t help but smile. That was thoughtful. Dr. Donavon had just earned another point. No matter what he looked like she could fall for someone who took the time to say thank you. She loved her brothers but “thank you” wasn’t something she regularly heard. She didn’t regret her sacrifices or what she did for them but she would like some understanding and appreciation sometimes. She looked at the plant again. Dr. Donavon’s office manager had no doubt taken care of sending the gift.
A short time later the work he wanted done came up in her system.
She opened her email and clicked “compose.”
Dr. Donavon
Thank you so much for the beautiful plant. You shouldn’t have, but I will enjoy having it on my desk.
I received your dictation and will work on it today and tomorrow. I’ll send the reports when they are completed.
Cynthia
* * *
It was almost midnight on Tuesday when she finally finished the last of her work. She’d spent most of the early part of her day typing her other clients’ dictation. Rick had had a basketball game that evening and that had meant she’d made it back to her desk chair late. Still she was determined to have all her typing done so she could start fresh the next day. That meant working late.
Wednesday morning, she opened Dr. Donavon’s normal surgical dictation and listened for the soft cadence of his voice as he spoke through her headphones. Smiling, she reached out and touched the tip of one leaf on her plant. Between his usual work and the special assignment, she was getting to spend many hours with his delicious voice. She was becoming moony-eyed over a man she’d never seen and knew nothing about. He could be married for all she knew. Enough of that—she needed to get to work.
Hours later she punched a key and sent the twenty separate reports she’d finished off to his electronic folder.
Feeling good about what she had accomplished that day, she took a long, hot shower before heading to bed. Having forgotten to turn off the kitchen light, she headed down the hallway. As she passed her office door she noticed the light flashing on her cell phone, indicating she had an email waiting. She received few this time of night so she feared it might be something important. It was from Dr. Donavon.
Had she tried she couldn’t have slowed her rapid heartbeat. What was he doing working this late? She should wait until morning to open it but it would mean she would stay awake wondering what he had to say. Far too eager for her comfort, she double-tapped the key.
Thank you for the reports and you’re welcome for the plant. It was just my small way of saying thank you.
Good night.
S. Donavon
How could a simple business email make her so giddy? She had to get a grip where Dr. Donavon was concerned. More than his voice was starting to get to her. What would it sound like to have him say good night in her ear? A shiver went up her spine. Cynthia shook her head. She’d been up too late. Her mind was beginning to play tricks on her.
She climbed into bed, pulled her quilt over her and smiled before drifting off to sleep.
* * *
Sean didn’t make a practice of sending someone a thank-you gift for helping him with work he was already paying them to do, but he liked Ms. Marcum.
She’d really helped him out. He’d never sent a plant, or flowers for that matter, before. Even after a date. As far as he was concerned they were a waste of money, which was better used on something practical like a power bill or making an investment.
From the tone of Ms. Marcum’s emails, she seemed an agreeable person. Someone he could work well with for a long time. Sean liked to keep good employees happy to prevent having to search for new ones. He’d been successful at it too. His office manager and several of his nurses had been with him for years.
He wasn’t in the habit of taking chances. He’d seen more than once growing up what happened when someone took a chance. He didn’t do it with places to live, friends or when making decisions on which stocks to buy. Only sure things interested him. That was just what the grant proposal had to be: a sure thing. Ms. Marcum was going to help make that happen.
Sean had worked until two o’clock in the morning the night before and still hadn’t gone through all the reports and information he needed to review. Organization wasn’t his strongest skill. He was going to need help. He moved a pile of disordered papers to another area of his desk, then more to another spot.
Disorganization was one trait he’d gotten from his parents that he couldn’t seem to shake. It was almost ingrained. When they got involved in one of their schemes, record-keeping was part of the process and they didn’t do it well. Soon they had no idea how deep they were in financially and couldn’t put their hands on the documentation to figure it out.
When his father discovered the severity of it he would go out and get an hourly job. Then when the next big moneymaker scam came along his father would quit his job and devote all his time to building the new “business.” Sean had heard all his life, “This will be it. We’ll be on the road to riches this time.” That time had yet to come.
He’d left all he could of that behind, except for being unorganized. He needed someone good with written documentation computer skills to assist him. The sooner the better. He only had a few weeks until the submission must be flawless.
Ms. Marcum had done another superb job with the latest reports. She seemed efficient. In her last email she’d offered her assistance. Would she consider helping him out for a few weeks? There was only one way to find out.
Ms. Marcum, I have a proposition for you.
Sean chuckled. Maybe those weren’t the correct words.
Ms. Marcum, would you be able to come by my office around three p.m. tomorrow? I have an opportunity that I would like to discuss with you in person.
S. Donavon
Hopefully she would agree to their meeting and his need for help. He couldn’t allow her to refuse him. How was he going to get the work done if she didn’t assist him? His office staff was already busy enough. There was no time to hire someone else to handle it. He was reaching desperation level. Somehow he must gain her cooperation.
