Trading Places with the Boss

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“Rafe.” Jason’s face changed completely, but only for a moment. Very quickly he had his smooth, cultured mask on again. “I would make a crack about bad pennies, but that would be rude.”

“Go ahead and be as rude as you like,” Rafe told him evenly. “We’re all such old friends. You can be yourself around us if you like.”

Jason had a faint smile that didn’t warm his eyes at all. “Have a nice day,” he said, sarcasm coloring his tone as he turned away.

“We will,” Rafe promised, tightening his hold on Shelley’s shoulders as he began to lead her toward the breakfast area.

She went willingly enough, but her nerves were jangling and she pushed his arm away. The hostess indicated a table big enough to take the others as they arrived. Shelley turned and faced Rafe as they approached it.

“I could have handled that myself, you know,” she said.

“I have no doubt about it,” he said smoothly, escorting her into her seat at the table. “If you’d wanted to.”

Her eyes widened. He really didn’t trust her. She leaned forward, looking at him across the table. “Are you accusing me of something here?” she demanded.

He smiled thinly, then picked up the huge menu and began to peruse it. “I’m not going to tolerate any traitors on our team,” he said from behind it. “Just giving you fair warning.”

“Rafe Allman….” She clenched her hands into fists on the table. “You…you make me so mad!”

He looked around the menu as though surprised. “No reason for anger, Shelley. Don’t you get it?”

He dropped the menu and reached out to grab one of her hands. “The fact that we strike sparks off each other should be a plus for us. It’s great for creativity. It produces a tension that can help us create a dynamic that will blow everyone else in this competition away.”

She blinked at him. “Either that, or we’ll kill each other.”

He nodded. “That’s always a possibility, of course.”

But his eyes were smiling and she couldn’t resist smiling back for just a moment. Then she pulled her hand away from his and reached for her own menu.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “I know what I’m ordering for you.”

“What?”

“Dollar-size blueberry pancakes with cherry syrup and sausages.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded. He looked up at her, and she almost thought he was half embarrassed.

“Listen, I remember how you used to pack it away on Saturday mornings when Rita would cook a big breakfast for us all.”

Rita was the big sister, the oldest daughter in the Allman clan. “She cooked enough for half the neighborhood it seemed sometimes,” she murmured, remembering.

He nodded. “Anyway, you always loved those little round pancakes and that thick cherry syrup.”

How funny that he remembered that. A wave of nostalgia swept over her and she smiled. “Those were the days before I had to start watching my figure.”

“Hey, I’ll watch your figure for you. No problem at all. And I’ll let you know if I notice anything going wrong with it.”

She sighed. “Now you’re starting to disappoint me. That is such a lame joke.”

“Who’s joking?” He said it softly, his eyes burning.

The waitress arrived at their table, pouring them both cups of steaming coffee, and Rafe ordered for them. Shelley was too involved in thinking over what he’d just said and the way he’d looked to remember that she’d planned to stop him from ordering pancakes for her. And then it was too late and she decided to let it go.

She looked at him a bit warily. He looked back. She searched for something to say.

“Well. Ready for the big day?”

He grunted and took a sip of scalding coffee, making a face as it burned his tongue.

“The workshops last until noon,” she said, talking quickly to fill the silence. “We’ll meet for lunch in the Tapa Grill and then our group will adjourn to my room to decide on our plan. I’ve got some really interesting ideas.”

“Do you?” He looked surprised.

“Yes, I do.”

He shrugged. “I’ve got a few ideas of my own. Some pretty great ideas. I guess it will be the battle of the ideas. We’ll see whose ideas come out on top.”

She made a face. He was making this sound like some sort of monster truck rally or something. “I think mine are pretty good.”

He nodded, his dark gaze searching her face. “‘Pretty good’,” he echoed mockingly. “You see, there’s your problem, Shelley, ‘Pretty good’ is not going to win this competition. ‘Over-the-top pretty damn sensational’ might have a chance.” He shook his head, stabbing a fork into the air. “This is what worries me. You don’t have the killer instinct.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I should hope not.”

“But don’t you get it? The killer instinct is going to be bottom-line imperative to win this.”

“Oh, stop being so melodramatic. We’re going to do just fine.”

He stared at her for a moment, then groaned, throwing his head back. “Shelley, Shelley, Shelley. You’ve got to toughen up, girl. You cringe at the sight of blood. Metaphorically speaking. You can’t go for the throat, regardless. You’re not ready, willing and able to wage all-out war on everyone and everything that gets in your way.” His penetrating gaze stung. “And I am.” He sat back, looking infuriatingly pleased with himself. “You’d better leave this to me.”

She had to bite her tongue for a moment, and even count to ten. She didn’t want to start screeching at him. That would be embarrassing, especially with Jason McLaughlin sitting across the room, watching every move they made.

“You go ahead and give advice to the B group,” she said at last. “You are the highest ranking officer from Allman Industries. You have a right to manage us all you want. But as for our group, for the next four days, I’m the boss. You’re going to do what I say, Rafe Allman.”

He looked at her with heavily lidded eyes. “Is this some kind of payback?”

“Payback!” She rolled her eyes. “You are such an infuriating man. You really think it’s all about you, don’t you?”

“Well, isn’t it?”

She stared at him for a long moment. He really meant it.

“You know, you’re right. This is payback.” She leaned forward again, speaking earnestly. “It’s payback for the time you put green food coloring in the shampoo while Jodie and I were swimming and we ended up with green hair—and green faces and green hands.”

His eyebrows knit together as he recalled the incident. “I must admit, I hadn’t thought that through very well when I did it.” Still, he grinned. “But you two sure did look funny.”

She wasn’t going to concede that. She wasn’t going to concede anything to him anymore.