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The sadness in her voice caught him at a loss. He didn’t understand all this emotional crap, and he was too tired to try to figure it out. Was she PMSing or what? “What exactly is it you want, Dana? I gave you the promotion you demanded.”
She glanced toward the doorway and shifted on her feet. “I need a life.”
“You have a life and a job most people would kill for. You travel the globe and frequent five-star hotels and restaurants. You wear designer clothing to premieres and work with movie stars others only dream of meeting. The films we create make history, damn it.”
“No, Max. You make history. I just watch from the sidelines.” She dug in her briefcase, extracted her PDA, a pen and a pad of paper and then rapidly filled the page with her neat script. When she finished she pushed the sheet toward him.
“What is this?” Whatever it was, he knew from her expression that he wasn’t going to like it.
“This is a list of people who make your world turn. Your caterer, dry cleaner, housekeeper, dentist, doctor, barber and the like. Until your new executive assistant is hired, you’ll be dealing with these people yourself.”
“Why won’t you?”
“Because it’s not my job anymore.”
Speechless, he stared. Where was the efficient, quiet woman who’d worked for him for the past few years? “What in God’s name happened to you in France?”
“I had a wake up call from my brother. He made me realize that my life was passing me by while I ran yours.”
“You have a brother?” How could he not have known that? Come to think of it, did he know anything about Dana’s personal life? He searched his mind and came up with a blank slate. She didn’t share; he didn’t ask. He liked it that way.
But then he realized he didn’t even know where she lived or where she was from originally. Going by the slight accent that slipped out now and then he’d guess she’d come from a southern state. He’d have to have personnel fax over a copy of her résumé.
“My brother, James, is two years older than me. He’s a football coach at the university back home. Coaching was his dream, and he didn’t let anything stop him from attaining it.”
She pulled out a manila folder and slid it across the countertop. “Here’s the schedule of your current appointments and a selection of the caterer’s sample menus. Mark your choices, add anything else you want and then fax the sheets to the number on the top of the page. They’ll coordinate the delivery times with Annette.”
Confused, he frowned. “Who is Annette?”
She sighed as if she’d lost patience with him. “Your housekeeper. She’s worked for you for four years.”
He should have known that. But when was he ever home during the day? “What in the hell is going on, Dana?”
“I’m your associate producer now, Max. I won’t be your caretaker anymore.”
Caretaker.
He stiffened at the insult. “I’m thirty-three years old, not a child who needs a nanny. I can take care of my own damned needs.”
A daring sparkle glinted her eyes and the edges of her mouth slowly curved in a mischievous smile. One dark eyebrow rose. “Really? Care to wager on that, Hudson?”
Something inside him did a queer little twist. He’d never seen this side of Dana before, and he wasn’t sure what to make of the change or if he liked it. “Oh, yes, I’ll bet on it. Put your money where your mouth is, Fallon.”
She shook her head. “Money means nothing to you.”
Drumming his fingers on the folder, he ticked through the possible stakes. What did she have that he wanted? The answer was obvious. “If I handle all my personal junk without asking for your help, then you’ll stay on as my assistant after we wrap Honor.”
She bit her lip and shifted on her feet. “Your executive assistant, not an associate producer?”
“That’s right. After this project you return to your old duties.”
“And if I win?”
“I’ll give you the best damned reference you’ve ever seen. I’ll even make a few calls to help you get your next job.”
Her lips parted and her chest rose as she took one deep breath and then another. Her bright orange top kept drawing his attention to her breasts. Her sedate, conservative clothing had never had that effect on him. He forced his gaze back to her face. Should he insist she go back to her professional clothing? No. That would be a sign of weakness.
“Be sure you want to wager this, Max. Because you won’t win.”
He was sure he didn’t want to have to train someone new. Dana might have been around for a long time, but he remembered how many assistants he’d hired and fired before finding her. As she’d pointed out, she made his life run smoothly. She’d fit in from the first day she stepped into his office.
“I’m sure you won’t win. Do we have a deal?”
He’d give her the responsibility she wanted with this picture, and if he played his cards right and showed her the harsh reality of an associate producer position, she’d see her job as his executive assistant involve a hell of a lot less work and stress. She’d beg to have her old job and her old hours back. Then his life would run smoothly once more.
She held up one finger. “If you win, I’ll stay on for one year. That’s the most I’ll promise. Not that it’s going to happen.”
His competitive spirit kicked in. She ought to know better than to back him into a corner. He thrived on working under pressure. And he would do his best to change her mind about the one-year stipulation. “You have yourself a deal, Dana.”
He held out his hand and she put hers in it. The contact of her warm, soft palm and long slender fingers against his sent a surge of electricity up his arm. He’d felt that jolt only once before.
The first time he’d kissed his wife.
He yanked his hand free.
Man, the Honor script was messing with his head.
He didn’t have those kinds of feelings for Dana. Or anyone. And he never would again. Because the last time he’d let himself care about a woman she’d ended up dead.
Three
Max pulled away from Dana so abruptly he yanked her off-balance. “I’m going for a swim.”
“What about work? You’re the one who called me before sunrise and said we needed to get started. And what about breakfast?”
The microwave dinged as if to reinforce her point. Glad to have a distraction from the residual tingle in her palm, Dana wiped her hand on her jeans and then opened the door. The delicious smell of the ham, zucchini and mushroom strata filled the air.
“Later.”
New job. New rules. No more passivity. She was part of his team now—not his support staff—not his gopher.
She grabbed his forearm before he could escape. His muscles knotted beneath her fingers. Heat seeped from his skin to hers. How would she ever get over him if she couldn’t stop this instant awareness? She’d have to find a way. Somehow.
“Listen, Max, if you want to starve yourself and go without sleep when you’re alone, that’s fine. But hunger and tiredness make you cranky, and that makes dealing with you less than pleasant. When I’m around, you need to eat and sleep.”
The stunned expression on his face made her want to take the words back. She’d jumped so far across the line of proper boss-employee conduct that she’d be lucky if he didn’t fire her. But something her brother had said in his pep talk about putting up with the garbage you had to endure and eliminating the annoyances you could had struck a chord with her.
If she couldn’t leave Max, then she had to make an effort to make her remaining time with him bearable. What did she have to lose? She’d already given up on winning his heart. “You can swim after breakfast.”
He pulled his arm from her grip. “That’s not safe. It causes cramps.”
“Oh, please. That’s an old wives’ tale, and you know it. Stop making excuses. Sit down. I’ll get you a plate.”
She watched him mentally debate his reply and then, surprisingly, he nodded. “Let’s eat outside.”
A victory of sorts. She’d take it. She grabbed a tray and piled on the dishes, flatware, coffeepot and casserole. Max took the tray from her and headed outside to the wide patio.
After taking a moment to admire the flex of his thick biceps, she raced ahead to open the sliding-glass door and then closed it behind them. Today he looked more like the smartly dressed, composed boss she was used to seeing in his crisply pressed Pal Zileri trousers and a short-sleeved shirt. Thanks to dealing with his dry cleaning, she knew more about his favorite designers than she needed to.
A steady breeze blew her bangs into her eyes. She impatiently brushed them aside. Now that she was home she needed to make time for a trim. “You should probably find time to visit your grandmother today. She’s asked about you.”
He set the tray on the table and shot her a questioning look. “You’ve talked to her?”
The cool morning air smelled fresh instead of smoggy. She caught a whiff of his cologne and inhaled deeply before she could stop herself. “Of course. I’ve visited Lillian twice since we’ve been back. She’s a bit frail, but her attitude is good, and she’s as sharp and witty as ever.”
He gave her a strange look. Dana shrugged and sat. “My family is on the other side of the continent and I miss them. So excuse me if I’ve adopted some of yours.”
“Where?”
She blinked in surprise. “Where is what?”
“Your family.”
How unusual. Max didn’t ask personal questions. He kept the lines between business life and personal life very clearly drawn. “North Carolina. My father teaches filmmaking at the university in Wilmington and my brother coaches there.”
“That’s where you caught the movie bug.”
“From my father? Yes. He always talked about coming to California and making movies, but family obligations kept him on the East Coast.” Why was she blabbering this stuff? Max hated useless chitchat.
“So you’re doing this for him.”
“No, I’m doing it for me. He and I used to edit our old family movies together. It was a hobby we loved and shared. During high school and college I used to write screenplays, but—”
Shut up, Dana. You’re blabbering again.
“But what?”
“Screenwriting’s not exactly a secure occupation.”
“Nothing in the entertainment industry is.”
“No.” That was why she’d been so thrilled to land a job with a heavyweight like Hudson Pictures.
She lifted the serving spoon to dish up the food, but hesitated when she realized she was about to fill Max’s plate. It was a bad habit—one she had to break. How many times had she fixed his lunch when she prepared hers? In fact, if she knew he was going to be working at his desk instead of out schmoozing for lunch, then she usually spent the evening before preparing something special and then packed enough for two the next day. No more of that.
She served herself and set the spoon back in the casserole dish, letting him get his own.
He did so. “You’ll have to send your family tickets to the Honor premiere.”
Her fork stopped short of her lips. Who was this man? Usually exhaustion made Max grumpy. It never made him likeable and approachable. “They’d like that.”
“I didn’t know you and my grandmother kept in touch.”
A chuckle escaped before she could stop it. Lillian had been a regular contact since the first day Dana set foot on Hudson property as Max’s executive assistant. The eighty-nine-year-old might be subtle, but she was effective.
“Are you kidding me? I run your world and she checks to make sure I’m doing it correctly and to her standards. She has a soft spot for you. Don’t tell her I said so, but I think you might be her favorite grandson.”
A tender smile curved Max’s lips and the love in his eyes made Dana’s breath hitch. If he ever looked at her like that, her new resolution to get over him would crumble.
No, it won’t. You’re past that. Remember?
Right. She’d promised to say yes to the next guy who asked her out. She might even sleep with him because it had been…forever since she’d had sex. Well, a couple of years anyway.
Step one in her twelve-step guide to getting over Max Hudson was to immerse herself in another man…or three.
Yeah, right. You never learned to juggle men.
Maybe it was time she tried. At least her heart would be safe that way.
Except for one fizzled relationship, she hadn’t dated all that much since taking the Hudson position. Luckily she lived in an apartment building populated by attractive actors waiting for their big break. When she had to attend a Hudson Pictures function she asked one of her neighbors to accompany her. That way she always had a good-looking guy on her arm, and she did them the favor of giving them exposure and introducing them to a few powerful people in the biz. A win-win situation.
She pulled herself back to her present. “In all the years I’ve worked with you, you’ve never worked with an associate producer. What will my duties be?”
He seemed to ponder as he ate. “You’ll liaison with the cast and crew.”
“I’ve done that before.”
“You’ll be responsible for checking location details, making sure each of the cast has what he or she requires and you’ll be troubleshooting.”
Not what she had in mind. “This is beginning to sound like my old job.”
“And until I have a new executive assistant it’s my job. I’m delegating.”
“Max—”
“Don’t ‘Max’ me. You asked for this, Dana.”
“If you’d look at the résumés piled on your desk, you might find a new E.A.”
“I have looked and none of the applicants has your qualifications.”
“That’s because I was overqualified.”
He frowned. “I don’t have time to train anyone right now, and neither do you.”
“But—”
“I’ll also need you to check the log sheet.”
