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“No, you’ll have to do the audit on-site. It might tip the thief off if I come on board as controller-in-training and start taking specific account information home right away.”
“So I’ll come in after hours and audit?”
“Not exactly.” Dane took a deep breath. “Binky suggested you work at the company as my executive assistant.”
She looked as if she’d swallowed a cherry pit. “You want me to be your secretary?”
“My executive assistant,” he corrected, knowing semantics were futile.
“Ha. Big difference.” She crumpled her napkin and tossed it on the table.
Not good. If she turned him down, he’d have to find another reputable accountant, delaying Binky’s peace of mind even further. “The audit is your first priority. Believe me, I’m not going to send daily memos or write the company’s annual report.”
“That would be fun. ‘Dear esteemed clients of Bingham Brothers, please disregard any minor discrepancies in your holdings. We are working diligently to discover which of our trusted executives has his or her hand in the till. Sincerely, the management.’”
He laughed. Sure, it was an awful situation, but her humor helped lighten things.
Keeley’s regretful expression was obvious. “I’d really like to help you, but I don’t think it would work. I’ve met Charlie Bingham several times at financial networking events. I doubt he’d recognize me immediately, but he would if I spent all day in his office for several weeks.”
“Damn.” Dane frowned. He hadn’t considered that. Leaning back in his chair to give the situation some thought, he immediately straightened when one of the legs creaked ominously. Coffeehouse chairs were either made for skinny city guys who subsisted on caffeine alone or women like the one sitting across from him.
Hmm. Under that bulky brown jacket, her tucked-in white blouse revealed a slender waist and her long skirt showed some firm calves, if not her thighs.
She cleared her throat and his gaze flew to her face. Instead of the demure blush he expected at his less-than-subtle examination, she merely looked sardonic. “Did you get a good look?”
Not hardly, but he wasn’t going to say that. “Don’t take this the wrong way—”
“Oh, I love it when men start a sentence with that disclaimer.”
“Okay, okay.” He backed off. “What I was going to ask, have you usually worn outfits like that when you met Charlie Bingham?”
“No, he took me to prom. Of course, he’s seen my work clothes.” She peered over her glasses at him as if he were an idiot, but he forged onward.
“What if you had different clothes?”
“What?”
“Not accountant clothes—younger, lighter outfits.”
“More…revealing?” Her voice dipped into the husky range. She brushed her fingers over her blouse’s top button and unfastened it. She crossed her legs under the glass-topped table and hiked her skirt to her knee. She’d uncovered maybe three inches of skin in total, but Dane still found it arousing. She leaned forward, her attention totally on him. “Dane, do you want me to play dress-up for you?”
“More like a makeover,” he managed to say, wondering where the sex-kitten persona had come from.
Just as quick as he wondered, she switched back to frowning CPA. “A makeover? Who do you think you are? Pygmalion? Professor Henry Higgins? The guys from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy?”
“Hey! I meant disguise, not makeover.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You know, like wearing contacts instead of glasses, maybe letting your hair down, wearing less brown…” His voice trailed off into a silent sigh. He’d handled this situation with all the finesse of the farm-fresh hayseed he used to be—or even worse, his dad’s bull Caesar. “Look, I’m sorry. I understand if you don’t want to take this job after this awkward beginning, but if you do want it, it’s yours, disguise or no.”
Her eyebrows pulled together. “You don’t know me, and you’re trusting me with such a big project.”
“I did check you out.”
“You did? And what did you find?”
“I verified your credentials, lack of criminal record, the basics.”
“Ah.” She nodded, relaxing the tiniest bit.
Had he missed something? His P.I. had done a routine check on her. Then he looked at her calm expression and decided to drop it. Maybe she’d gotten into trouble as a teenager, records he didn’t have access to. Unless she’d done juvie time for embezzlement, he didn’t really care. “And Sugar’s recommendation carries a lot of weight. That woman is a walking financial calculator.”
Instead of reassuring her, she frowned again. “How do you know Sugar?”
Ah, she was probably wondering if he was one of Sugar’s lap-dance clients. “Not from her work, at least not directly. She models for my sister Bridget’s lingerie line.”
She grinned. “Oh, yes. ‘Bras by Brigitte.’”
“Yeah. That’s it.” Silly fake-French marketing ploy, but sales were taking off.
“I’ll have to look for some of her designs when I’m shopping. For my makeover.”
It took him a second. “You mean you’ll do it? That’s great!”
She raised a slim hand. “Don’t get all excited yet. Binky Bingham is going to pay me big-time.”
“Hey, he wouldn’t expect anything less.” Binky was used to paying women lots of money.
Her next words proved she knew Binky’s habits as well. “I don’t accept cash, especially tightly rolled fifties. He can write me checks at the beginning, middle and end of the audit, with additional billing if I get involved in legal proceedings.”
“And he’ll pay for any clothing you may need to do the job.”
She raised an eyebrow. “A clothing allowance? Maybe I will get one of your sister’s pricey bras. Sugar says they’re so comfortable, you practically feel naked.”
A naked Keeley? Images of Keeley undressed like the brunette stripper from Frisky’s tumbled around his head. He never mixed business with pleasure, and Binky’s business was important. Dane didn’t need to ask himself what was wrong—he already knew.
“Dane?” Her questioning voice broke into his confusion. “Here, take a napkin before your pants get stained.”
“What?” He looked in horror at the paper napkin she offered him. Sure, she was turning him on, but he wasn’t even close to staining anything.
With an exasperated sigh, she dropped the napkin on the table in front of him and soaked up a puddle of coffee. “Your cup is leaking.”
“Oh.” He didn’t realize he’d crumpled his paper cup while imagining her naked. He grabbed more napkins and mopped the mess. Lucky he’d almost finished his coffee. “So, Keeley. Tax season is almost over. When can you start working at Bingham Brothers?”
“April fifteen is next Wednesday. After that, I need a couple days off to shop and catch up on my sleep. I’ve been getting by on four or five hours a night, and I want to spend all day in bed if I feel like it.”
Boy, did he feel like spending all day in bed with her. He nodded brusquely. “Will the following Monday work for you?”
“Monday, it is.”
“Good. I’ll courier over a check for your advance and clothing allowance, and I’ll expect you at 8:00 a.m. sharp at Bingham Brothers. Wear your new clothes.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Yes, sir, Mr. Weiss. I’ll practice my shorthand over the weekend in case you want to give me your dictation.”
Man, did she have to use that word? “Not necessary.” He passed her his business card. “My cell number’s on the front. Call me with any questions.”
“I think I have an idea of what you need.”
He sincerely hoped not.
She stood, shimmied her skirt to midcalf and picked up her raincoat. He rose and they shook hands again. “I’ll leave first. We don’t want to be seen together.”
“Good idea.” He felt foolish about the cloak-and-dagger stuff but that didn’t keep him from admiring her ass as she strolled away. Her plain brown pumps had enough of a heel to add just the right amount of wiggle, and the watery sunlight lit the strands of caramel-colored hair that escaped from her bun. She paused before opening the door and looked over her shoulder to catch him staring. He gave a feeble little wave and her lips curved in a small smile.
Then she pushed out the door and disappeared among the busy pedestrian traffic.
Dane exhaled loudly. Had Keeley been trying to arouse him on purpose? If so, she’d done a good job. Talking about his big appetites hadn’t helped any, either. He did have big appetites, and not just for fine food, but for fine women.
But now he had the sneaking suspicion that he could eat a whole can of cherry filling off another woman’s naked body, and that wouldn’t have the same impact on him as the sight of Keeley’s pink tongue licking her finger clean. Dammit, dammit, dammit.
3
“CONTROLLER-IN-TRAINING for Bingham Brothers?” Dane’s best friend and future brother-in-law Adam Hale drank his dark Guinness beer and raised a black eyebrow.
“Yep. Binky Bingham offered me the job a few days ago and I accepted. I moved my stuff into one of their corporate apartments until I find a permanent place.” Or until the audit was finished and Dane could move on. He gestured to the bartender to bring him another bottle of Wölfbräu, a Wisconsin beer brewed not too far from his parents’ farm. He was drinking the original brew because that was what the bar carried, but his favorite variety was Wolfie’s Honey Weiss, a honey-flavored pale ale.
Adam shook his head. “I have to admit, I can’t see you working permanently for any company, much less them. I thought Charlie Bingham tried to punch you once.” Adam was a financial analyst for another big Chicago company and knew the local heavy hitters.
“Yeah, the keyword is tried.” Dane drank some beer and they both laughed. Charlie Bingham was a health club monkey, good for swinging off the bars but not much else. “I was attending the same charity function as his grandfather and Charlie made a drunken crack about Binky’s date.”
“Probably younger than Charlie,” Adam commented. “Still, not the thing to do to your family, especially in public.”
“He was upsetting Binky, so I said something to him and he took a swing at my jaw. He missed by a mile, so I pinned his arm behind his back and poured him into his limo to go sleep it off.”
“Gee, Dane, I can see why you’d jump at the chance to work there. Sixty-hour weeks in some bland office, fossilized business practices and a chief financial officer who’ll stab you in the back with his secretary’s letter opener if you drop your guard. A real dream job compared to your last few months freelancing for that up-and-coming Asian firm.” Adam rolled his eyes. “Come on, what’s up?”
Dane munched on some peanuts and considered what to say to Adam, who was part of the same industry and not uninterested in such an eminent company. Family or no, Binky’s confidentiality came first. “Binky asked me to come aboard. He’s not getting any younger, you know.”
“He’s not, but his dates are!” Adam caught Dane’s warning glance and grinned. “Okay, okay. I know Binky took you under his wing when you were a broke MBA student.”
“I owe him a lot, and now it’s time to pay him back.” His tone indicated it was a closed subject.
“Okay, Dane.” Adam reached for some pretzels and gazed at the baseball game on the TV. They were in a bar where the guys from the neighborhood stopped for a few brews before heading home. Despite Adam’s polished city-boy appearance, he came from a similar blue-collar background. “Geez, would you look at that? The Brewers are losing to the Cubs again. Pathetic.” He turned to Dane. “Well, Binky’s lucky to have someone like you at his side. Men in his position often don’t have any allies without their own agendas. You’re a loyal man.”
Loyal? Dane supposed he was, although he’d never thought of it that way. Loyal, dependable Dane. Not the most exciting description, but it beat being a rude jerk like Charlie.
What kind of man did Keeley like? Over the past several days since their coffee meeting, he’d caught himself looking forward to seeing her tomorrow morning. He hoped she’d bought some outfits that showed off her body a bit more. If Charlie thought she was only working there because Dane was interested in her, Charlie would have even more reason to drop his guard.
As long as Dane didn’t drop his. Problem was, he could instantly imagine Keeley taking his “dictation” naked and flat on her back on the conference table. Or maybe in the copier room against some paper cartons. Or sitting in a big leather office chair, her ankles draped over the arms.
He didn’t know why he was so attracted to her, considering he usually went for women who were obviously sexy and not afraid to show it. Maybe it was those flashes of sex-kittenhood popping out from her buttoned-up accountant persona. And the way she swung her ass from side to side when she absolutely had to know he was watching her. He rubbed his hand across his face.
“You okay?” Adam nudged his elbow. “You’re all red.”
“Am I?” He knew he was, judging from the heat in his cheeks. “Kind of warm in here.”
“If you say so.” The bar’s air-conditioning was turned to frigid temperatures thanks to a mid-April heat wave. Fortunately, his friend let it drop. “Bridget will be glad you’re going to stay in Chicago for a while. You can help us plan the wedding.”
“Oh, goody, can I?” Dane gave him a sidelong glance. It had taken some getting used to that his baby sister was living with and would be marrying Adam, Dane’s former bar buddy and champion chick-scoring wingman.
Adam cleared his throat. “After all, we want you to be my best man. You and your brother, that is.”
“Colin and me? Are you sure you want me? After all, I did try to strangle you when I learned you were dating Bridget.” More than just dating actually, but those events were better left unmentioned.
“Hey, what’s a little strangulation between brothers?” Adam joked, but his dark eyes were serious.
“Adam, ever since you and Colin were roommates at college, I’ve always thought of you as a brother. Marrying Bridget just makes it official.”
Adam swallowed hard and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, buddy.”
“No problem.” Dane nodded and slapped him on the back in return. Okay, big emotional moment over. Maybe they could catch the end of the ball game.
“You know, this engagement and marriage thing is pretty cool.”
Dane gave a quiet sigh. Back to the emotional stuff. “Yep.”
“I mean, after all these years of knowing you guys and knowing your sister and having it all come together so we’re all together—it’s pretty cool.” Adam grinned like a goofball.
“Cool,” he agreed. Cool, if incoherent. What inning was the ball game in, anyway?
“Now that you’re staying put for more than one week, maybe you can meet someone, too.”
That got his attention. “Geez, Adam. Don’t go all squirrelly on me. I’m glad for you two, but now is not the right time in my life to go looking for anyone.” Adam would soon know that Dane’s time in Chicago would only be long enough to finish his investigation and move on. Dane already had some feelers out for his next consulting job.
“Love comes when you least expect it,” Adam intoned, the beige Guinness foam on his upper lip ruining the sentiment.
“What are you, a greeting card poet?” Dane shook his head. Adam had to be drunk to spout such sappy crap.
His friend smirked. “Laugh if you want, but you know the old saying—the bigger they are, the harder they fall. And you are one big guy.”
“That refers to being punched in the jaw, not falling in love.”
Adam grinned and socked him in the shoulder. “Take it from me. You won’t be able to tell the difference.”
“WHAT SHOULD WE DRINK TO?” Sugar hoisted her butterscotch-vanilla martini high in anticipation.
Keeley lifted her limoncello cocktail in response. “To the end of tax season!”
