скачать книгу бесплатно
His mouth dropped open in surprise. “What, you’re not going to help me?”
“I’m not your assistant anymore, Matthias.”
Oh, as if he needed reminding of that. “But—”
“Out,” she repeated. “Now.”
He shook his head in disbelief. But he did as she asked him to. Told him to. Demanded he do. The door was slamming shut behind him before he’d even cleared it, missing his backside by that much. He spun around, and went so far as to lift a fist to pound on it again. But he stopped himself before completing the action.
There was a better way to go about this, he told himself. He just had to figure out what it was. Because Kendall was making a mistake, thinking OmniTech was the place she needed to be. Where she needed to be was with him. Or, rather, with Barton Limited, he quickly corrected himself. Now all he had to do was figure out a way to make her realize that, too.
Three
Kendall leaned back against the door through which Matthias had just exited and tried to get a handle on everything that had just happened.
She’d thrown him out, she marveled. She’d looked at the BlackBerry in his hand, incredulous that, just when they were starting to have an exchange that felt evenly matched, he would ask her to program the little gizmo the way she had so many others when he was paying her to be his underling, and then she’d asked—no, told—him to leave. Even more stunning than that was the fact that Matthias had done as she asked—no, told—him to and had left. Without a word of argument. Without a word of exception. Without a word of reproach.
Okay, and without a word of farewell, either.
The point was that Kendall had taken charge of a situation with Matthias and she had mastered it. Eventually. Just because there had been a few moments in between that had been filled with strange bits of weirdness didn’t diminish the enormity of that achievement.
But just what, exactly, had that weirdness been about? she asked herself now. There had been times during their conversation when Matthias had looked at her almost as if he were seeing someone else, someone he didn’t quite know, someone with whom he wasn’t entirely comfortable. Someone he wasn’t sure he liked. It had been…weird. And her response had been weird, too. She’d suddenly been aware of him in a way she hadn’t been when she’d worked for him. Or, at least, in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to think about when she worked for him.
She let herself think about it now.
The day Matthias had announced his engagement to Lauren Conover, Kendall had experienced a reaction that had surprised her. A lot. And she’d realized that day that her feelings for her boss might perhaps, possibly, conceivably go a little beyond professional. Because where she had never minded the other women who came and went in Matthias’s life—because they always came and went—when he’d made a move to join himself permanently to someone else, Kendall had felt a little…
Well, weird.
At first, she’d told herself it was just disappointment that such a smart man would do something as stupid as arrange a marriage of convenience for himself. Then she’d told herself what she felt was annoyance that, because of his engagement, he wanted her to arrange so many events for him that had nothing to do with work. In fact, she’d run through a veritable grocery list of feelings in response to Matthias’s announced nuptials: denial, then anger, then bargaining, then depression…
Hang on a minute, Kendall thought now. Those were the stages of grief. And no way had she felt that. No way had she been that far gone on her boss.
Ultimately, however, she had been forced to admit the truth. That maybe, perhaps, possibly, conceivably, she had developed…feelings… for her employer. Feelings of attachment. Feelings of allegiance. Feelings of… She closed her eyes tight and made herself admit it. Feelings of…affection.
The recognition that she had begun to feel things for her boss that she had no business feeling—even her allegiance wasn’t for things that related to work—was what had cemented her conviction that she would, once and for all, tender her resignation. Even after his engagement to Lauren was canceled, she’d known she had to go. She couldn’t risk falling for Matthias, because he would never care for her in any way other than the professional. He didn’t care about anyone in any way other than the professional. That the offer from Stephen DeGallo had come on the heels of the cancellation of Matthias’s wedding had just been an exclamation point to punctuate the obvious. She had done the right thing by leaving Matthias. Or, rather, she hastily corrected herself, by leaving Matthias’s employ.
She just hoped taking the job with Stephen DeGallo had been the right thing to do, too.
Some lodge, Matthias thought as he pulled into the drive of what looked more like a boutique hotel than a private residence. Had it not been for the fact that he’d been here once before—three months ago, when his brother, Luke, was in residence—he wouldn’t have been sure he was in the right place. He turned off the ignition and exited the car, hauled his leather weekender out of the backseat and made his way to the entrance where the caretaker was waiting for him.
The woman was dressed in a pale yellow straight skirt and a white sleeveless top, a canvas gimme cap decorated with a logo he didn’t recognize pulled low on her forehead. Coupled with her sunglasses, it was hard to tell what she looked like, but what he could see was pretty, in a wholesome kind of way. The ponytail hanging out of the cap’s opening was streaked dark blond, and she had some decent curves, so it wasn’t surprising that Matthias found himself comparing her to Kendall…and thinking how nice it would be if it was Kendall who was here to greet him instead. Not because he wanted to spend a month here with Kendall, of course, but because if Kendall was here, he could get a lot more work done, that was all.
“I assume you’re Mary?” he asked the woman by way of a greeting. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
She seemed to deflate a little when she got a good look at him, and only then did he realize she had seemed kind of expectant as he strode up the walk. Maybe she’d thought he was someone else, since his own appearance probably wasn’t easy to discern, either, thanks to his own sunglasses.
She nodded. “I’m the caretaker.” Without further ado, she extended a key that dangled from a rather elaborate key chain and added, “Here’s the key. Just leave it on the kitchen table at the end of the month. I’ve stocked the refrigerator and cabinets, and there’s some carryout from a local takeaway gourmet. But if it’s not to your taste or you’d like something specific, there are menus for some restaurants in Hunter’s Landing on top of the fridge. I can recommend Clearwater’s and the Lakeside Diner for sure. Or if you do the cooking thing, there’s a market just east of where you turned off to find the lodge.”
Her voice was soft but dispassionate, and she spoke as if she were reading from a script. And not very dramatically, at that. “Tahoe City is about a half hour north, the Nevada state line about twenty minutes east. If you want to gamble,” she added, as if wanting to clarify.
“Not like that,” Matthias told her. When he gambled, he liked for the stakes to be much higher than mere cash.
Mary nodded. “Would you like for me to show you around the place? Explain how everything works?”
“I assume it’s all pretty standard,” he replied. Not to mention he had no intention of seeing how anything worked. That way lay madness.
“Standard, yes,” Mary told him. “But there are quite a few amenities. Hot tub, Jacuzzi, gourmet kitchen, plasma TV…”
He held up a hand to stop her. He wasn’t the type to indulge in any of those things. He had too much work to do. “It won’t be necessary,” he told her. “Thanks, anyway.”
“Then, if you won’t be needing anything else?” she asked.
Well, there was nothing he needed that she could provide, anyway, he thought. So he told her, “Nothing, thanks.”
“Emergency numbers are on the fridge, too,” she said. “Including mine. Hopefully you won’t need them, either.”
She hesitated before leaving, studying Matthias’s face for a moment as if she were looking for something. Then, suddenly, she said, “Goodbye,” and turned to walk down the front steps. For the merest, most nebulous second, she seemed a little familiar somehow. He didn’t know if it was her walk, her voice, the way she carried herself or what, but there was…something about her that reminded him so much of someone else. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on who.
And then the impression was gone, as quickly as it had materialized. Mary was gone, too, having climbed back into her car and backed it out of the driveway. Matthias jingled the key in his hand absently, shrugged off his odd ruminations and turned to unlock the front door, closing it behind himself once he was inside. Out of habit, he tossed his battered leather weekender—the one he’d traveled with since college—onto the nearest piece of furniture. No small feat, that, since the place was huge, with a foyer the size of a Giants dugout, and the nearest piece of furniture was half a stadium away. He didn’t care if he knocked something over in the process. He was still pissed off at Hunter for making all of them rearrange their lives for a month to come here and do whatever the hell it was they were supposed to do.
But then, he was still pissed off at Hunter for dying, too.
Of course, if he were honest with himself, Matthias would have to admit that he was more pissed off at himself than anyone else. He hadn’t meant to lose touch with the Seven Samurai over the years. It had just…happened. Time happened. Distance happened. Work happened. Life happened. People grew up. They grew apart. They went their separate ways. Happened all the time. He and Hunter and the rest of them had all been kids when they’d made pacts and promises to stay friends forever. Hell, Matthias hadn’t even kept in touch with his own brother. Then again, when your brother did things like accusing you of cheating him in business and stealing your fiancée, it was understandable why you’d allow for some distance.
As soon as the thought formed in his head, Matthias pushed it away. He was being unfair to Luke. Really unfair this time, and not the phony-baloney unfairness of which his brother had always accused him. Their father hadn’t exactly been a proponent of fairness, anyway. He had pitted the two of them against each other from the day the twins were old enough to compete. Which, to the old man’s way of thinking, had been within seconds of their emerging from the womb. If there had been some way to make the boys vie for something against each other, Samuel Sullivan Barton found a way to do it. Who could win the most merit badges in Cub Scouts. Who could sell the most wrapping paper for the school fund-raiser. Who could score the most baskets, make the most touchdowns, pitch the best game. As children, they’d been more like rivals than brothers.
It had only gotten worse after their father’s death and the terms of his will had been made public. Samuel had decreed that whichever of the boys made a million dollars first, the estate would go to him in its entirety. Matthias had won. Though winning had been relative. Luke had accused him, unjustly, of cheating and hadn’t spoken to him for years. It hadn’t been until recently that the two men had shared anything. And then what they’d shared was Lauren Conover, the woman who’d agreed to be Matthias’s wife. It had been the ultimate competition for Luke…until he’d fallen in love with the prize. And although Matthias had come to terms with what had happened, things between him and his brother still weren’t exactly smooth. Or simple. Or settled.
Man, what was it about peoples’ last wills and testaments that they always sent Matthias’s life in a new direction?
He sighed as he leaned against the front door and drove his gaze around the lodge. In college, they’d said they wanted to build a cabin. But “cabin” evoked an image of a rustic, no-frills, crowded little shack in the woods with few amenities and even fewer comforts. This place was like something from Citizen Kane, had the movie been filmed in Technicolor. The great room ceiling soared up two stories, with expansive windows running the entire length of one wall, offering an incredible view of the lake. The pine paneling was polished to a honeyed sheen, the wide planked floors buffed to a satin finish. At one end of the room was a fireplace big enough to host the United Arab Emirates, a sofa and chairs clustered before it that, ironically, invited an intimate gathering of friends.
The place was exactly the sort of retreat Matthias would have expected Hunter to have. Handsomely furnished. Blissfully quiet. Generously outfitted. And yet there was something missing that prevented it from being completely comfortable. Something that Hunter had obviously forgotten to include, but Matthias couldn’t quite put his finger on what.
He pushed himself away from the door and made his way to where his weekender had landed—just shy of actually hitting the nearest piece of furniture he’d been aiming for. His footsteps echoed hollowly on the hardwood floor as he went, an auditory reminder of just how alone he would be while he was here. Matthias wasn’t used to traveling alone. Kendall had always come with him on business trips, and even though they’d naturally had separate quarters, he’d seen her virtually from sunup to sundown. Of course, this wasn’t, technically, a business trip. But he would have brought Kendall along, had she still been in his employ, because he would be working while he was here. And Kendall had been a big part of his work for five years.
Five years, he thought as he grabbed his bag and strode toward the stairs that led up to the second floor. In the scheme of things, it wasn’t such a long time. But it comprised the entirety of Kendall’s work life. He was the only employer she’d had since graduating. He’d been her first. Her only. He’d been the one who had introduced her to the ways of business, the one who’d taught her how to achieve the most satisfaction in what she did, the one who’d shown her which positions to take on things that would yield the most pleasurable results. And now, after he’d been the one to initiate her in all the intricacies of the working relationship, another employer had wooed her away.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Barton,” he muttered to himself as he climbed the stairs. “You’re talking about her like she’s an old lover.”
He waited for the laughter that was bound to come from entertaining a thought like that, but for some reason, it didn’t come. Instead, he was overcome by a strange kind of fatigue that made him want to blow off work for the rest of the day and instead go do something more—
The thought made him stop dead in his tracks, halfway up the stairs. Blow off work? Since when had he ever blown off work? For any reason? And how could anything be more than work? Work was everything. Talk about something that should have made him erupt into laughter.
But he didn’t laugh at that, either. Instead, he realized he’d left his laptop out in the trunk of the car. Worse, he realized that, even if he’d remembered to bring it in with him, he wasn’t completely sure how to get to all the files he needed to get to. That had always been Kendall’s job. Knowing how to pull up whatever needed pulling up and pulling it up for him. Hell, half the time, she’d taken care of whatever needed pulling and then pushed it back down again.
He was going to have to hire a temp for now, he told himself. Surely there was a temp agency close by. Tahoe City maybe. Too bad Kendall wasn’t here. She would have found just the right person, and she would have had the person here five minutes ago. But how hard could it be? he asked himself. He just needed to find the phone book, and he’d be good to go.
So where did people keep their phone books, anyway…
By the time she entered the bar of the Timber Lake Inn that evening, Kendall had accepted the fact that it, like everything else in the establishment, would be cozy. Sure enough, it was. Like the rest of the hotel, it was pine-paneled with hardwood floors and Native American rugs, but the lighting was lower than in the other public rooms, softer and more golden, and very… Well, there was just no way around it. Romantic.
Matthias was right. This wasn’t the sort of hotel any businessman in his right mind would use for business functions. Nevertheless, she was confident Stephen DeGallo had his reasons for using it. Besides trying to lull Kendall into a false sense of security, which Matthias had implied—hah—was the case. Or to lull her into anything else, either. For all she knew, the Timber Lake Inn was the only hotel in Lake Tahoe that had had any openings when Stephen scheduled the orientation. And the fact that Lake Tahoe itself was such a cozy, romantic destination that was kind of an odd choice for a business orientation had nothing to do with anything. It was centrally located, that was all.
She shook the thought almost literally out of her head and smoothed her hand one final time over the chocolate-brown trousers and cream-colored shirt she’d donned for the evening. Stephen had said the evening would be casual, and what she had on was casual attire. It was. Even if it was the same kind of thing she’d worn to work every day when she was with Matthias. Ah, working for Matthias, she quickly corrected herself. And the reason she’d wound her hair up into its usual workplace bun and put on her usual workplace glasses wasn’t because she was trying to overcompensate for the cozy, romantic environment. It wasn’t. It was because she just hadn’t felt like going to any trouble. She had low-maintenance hair. So sue her. And even though she didn’t need her glasses all the time, what with the low lighting and everything, she figured she’d need them.
So there.
She scanned the bar for a group of people who looked as if they were training for new careers, but saw only couples at a handful of tables here and there. Cozy couples. Romantic couples. In fact, one couple was being so romantic Kendall wanted to yell, “Jeez, people, get a room!” Glancing down at her watch, she realized she was a little early, so maybe she was the first member of the OmniTech orientation group to arrive. Then a movement in the corner of the room—the farthest corner—and the darkest corner, she couldn’t help noticing—caught her eye, and she realized it was Stephen DeGallo, waving at her.
She lifted a hand in return and made her way in that direction, picking her way through the tables as she looked around for anyone else who might be joining him. And somehow, she refrained from muttering, Jeez, people, get a room as she passed by the overly demonstrative couple. Nor did she toss a glass of ice water over them, which was another thought she hadn’t quite been able to quell.
“Kendall,” Stephen said warmly when she was within earshot. “Great to see you again. Glad you made it in one piece.”
“It’s great to be here, Stephen,” she said as she extended her hand in greeting. “Thanks again for giving me this opportunity. I’m very excited about working for OmniTech.”
He grasped her hand in both of his, not really shaking it, per se, just holding it for perhaps a moment longer than was necessary, something that made her think about Matthias’s warning again. Which she immediately pushed out of her brain. Stephen was just being friendly. And she was just being overly sensitive, thanks to Matthias’s ridiculous ideas about Stephen only wanting her because of her ties to Barton Limited. This was what happened when you were employed by a workaholic for so many years. You forgot that normal people could be casual and friendly, even in professional situations.
And Stephen’s smile did put Kendall immediately at ease. Although he wasn’t a handsome man, he was by no means unattractive. He was slim and fit, and was dressed according to his own edict—casually—in a pair of softly faded blue jeans and a white polo shirt. His blue eyes held intelligence and good humor, and his dark blond hair was just beginning to go gray, threaded here and there with bits of silver. What he lacked in handsomeness, he more than made up for in charisma. He was just one of those people who had a gift for taking charge of a situation without being overbearing, and making people feel better that he had.
Kendall had done her homework after his offer of employment, so she knew quite a bit about him. In many ways, he was as devoted to his company as Matthias was to Barton Limited, but where Matthias’s extracurricular and social activities all still seemed to involve his work, Stephen DeGallo was a man who enjoyed his leisure time. He was a champion yachtsman and active in a charitable foundation he had started ten years ago that mentored gifted, but underprivileged high school students.
He was not just a good businessman, but a good guy, Kendall had discovered. And her admiration of him was due to both.
She seated herself in the chair he held out for her, folding her elbows on the table and weaving her fingers lightly together. Then she gave him her most businesslike smile. “Am I the first to arrive?” she asked, even though the answer was obvious.
“Actually,” Stephen said as he folded himself into the chair opposite hers, “right now, you’re the only one who’s here.”
Kendall told herself she just imagined the note of vague discomfort she thought she heard in his voice. More of Matthias’s influence on her nerves, she was sure. Still, it was odd that no one else had arrived yet.
“Don’t tell me I’m the only one who got here on time,” she said.
“No, of course not,” he told her. “The others just aren’t scheduled to arrive until Wednesday.”
Wednesday? Kendall thought. That was two whole days away. “Oh,” she said, the word sounding more disappointed than she’d intended.
“The others are training for management positions,” he said by way of an explanation. “You’re the only VP candidate this time around. So I thought it would be nice if the two of us could have a couple of days where I could go over some of the policies and procedures that won’t be pertinent to everyone else’s training.”
That made sense, Kendall thought.
“But first, a drink,” he said, motioning to a waiter who had been hovering within range. “What would you like? I discovered a wonderful California pinot noir recently that’s absolutely delightful.”
“Thanks,” Kendall told him, “but I’ll just have a bottle of sparkling water.”
He threw her a look of mock effrontery. “But we’re celebrating your joining the OmniTech team,” he objected.
“Which is why I ordered sparkling water,” she said with a smile.
He smiled back, dipping his head forward in acknowledgment. “Then I’ll have the same,” he told the waiter. “Now then,” he added as their server departed, “I thought we could spend much of tonight talking about how—”
“Stephen DeGallo!”
Kendall flinched at the sound of the booming, all-too-familiar voice, but managed to otherwise keep her irritation in check. Well, enough that no one would notice it, anyway. Though she had to admit that Stephen didn’t look any happier about the interruption than she was. Nevertheless, good businessman—and guy—that he was, he smiled as he rose to greet Matthias. Kendall turned in her chair to acknowledge her former employer, but remained seated, hoping that small act of discourtesy would illustrate her pique in a way that wasn’t quite as impolite as other actions might have been. Actions like, oh…Kendall didn’t know. Tripping him as he strode past her to shake Stephen’s hand. Calling him a big poophead. Stuff like that.
She noticed Stephen didn’t grasp Matthias’s hand in both of his the way he had hers—in fact, he gave Matthias’s one, two, three firm, manly shakes and released it. Then again, Matthias was a rival, so naturally, Stephen’s greeting to him wouldn’t be as familiar as his to Kendall had been. Similarly, it was understandable why Stephen’s posture, too, with Matthias would be more assertive, more straightforward, more businesslike, than it had been with Kendall. Wouldn’t it?
Yeah. Sure. Of course.
“Matthias Barton,” Stephen greeted him. “Long time, no see. What have you been up to?”
“Besides competing with you for the Perkins contract?” Matthias replied. “Not much.”
Well, he’d recently lost his personal assistant of five years, Kendall thought irritably. Or so she’d heard. That was kind of major.
As if he’d read her mind, Matthias turned to her then and feigned tremendous surprise—though, Kendall thought, not very well.
“Why, Kendall Scarborough,” he said with overblown amazement. “What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since…” He pretended to search his memory banks—again, not exactly an Academy Award-winning performance—then snapped his fingers. “Since you gave me your two weeks’ notice to go work for some fly-by-night company.”
She sighed wearily. “Well, except for this afternoon in my room, when you offered me my job back.”
Now Stephen was the one to look surprised, Kendall noted. Only his was obviously genuine. Then he smiled, and looked at Matthias again. “Really?” he asked the other man.
Matthias looked a little uncomfortable now, and this time, he wasn’t pretending. “It was just a formality,” he said. “I always offer my exes the chance to come back, once they come to their senses and realize what a mistake they made, leaving Barton Limited.”
Kendall couldn’t prevent the snort of laughter that escaped her at that. Yeah, right. Matthias had the longest memory of anyone she’d ever met, and he never forgot a slight—real or imagined. If someone elected to leave the company for any reason, he had that person’s personnel file expunged within the hour, as if they never existed. And he certainly never went looking for that person to offer them an opportunity to return.
Not until this afternoon, anyway, she reminded herself.
But the only reason he’d come looking for her, she further told herself, was because he hadn’t known how to program his new BlackBerry. The offer to take her back had obviously been off-the-cuff, and had doubtless been extended for the same reason. He thought she was the only one who knew how to program one of those things. He didn’t realize anyone could do it for him. Well, anyone except Matthias Barton.
“Well, Barton,” Stephen said now, “had you appreciated Kendall’s possibilities, the way I do, then maybe you wouldn’t have lost her in the first place.”
Kendall started to smile at that, then stopped. Something about the way Stephen had said it made it sound kind of unprofessional. Just what had he meant by possibilities? That was kind of a strange word to use. Why not abilities? Or talents? Or expertise?Possibilities made it sound as though he considered her a blank slate or unformed mass that he could turn into whatever he wanted.
“I assure you, DeGallo,” Matthias replied, “that Kendall was one of my most prized possessions at Barton Limited. I hope you realize what an asset she’ll be to OmniTech.”
All right, Kendall thought. That did it. Forget about blank slates and unformed masses. Matthias had just made her sound like a new computer system. Possession? Asset? Just who did he think he was?
“Prized possession?” she echoed indignantly.
Matthias looked down at her and must have realized immediately from both her voice and her expression—and, most likely, the quick drop in temperature among the small group—what a colossal gaffe he’d just made. “Uh…” he began eloquently.
“If that’s the case,” she continued while he was still off balance, “then you better go over my operating instructions while you’re here. I wouldn’t want Stephen to think he acquired a defective machine.”
The look Matthias gave her then was almost convincingly distressed. Almost. “Kendall, that’s not—”
This time his words were cut off by Stephen’s light, good-natured laughter. “Sounds to me like she works just fine,” he said. “In fact, this particular model is promising to work better than I initially hoped.”
