Beauty and the Brooding Boss

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“Interesting character,” she said, shutting the door. “Is that grumpy old man act for real?” As opposed to yours, which I can’t for the life of me understand?

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Ever been to his store? The, uh,” she looked at the forms in her hand, “Leafy Bean?”

“Once or twice.”

“It as colorful as him?”

“The pastries are decent.”

Coming from him, that was nothing short of a glowing recommendation. She made her way to the kitchen table where a few grocery items, mostly fresh produce, remained. Maybe she was imagining things, but Alex seemed pretty annoyed she’d crossed paths with Farley. Then again, surely he didn’t expect, because he was apparently an antisocial hermit, that she avoid human contact too? Did he think she’d spend all summer alone with no one but him and a stray cat for company?

A strange, warm shiver ran down her spine at the notion.

Alex had switched his attention from outside the window to her. Eyes dark and murky, the scrutiny ignited another set of shivers. Aw, hell. Why not come right out and ask the question? “You don’t like him knowing I’m here, do you?”

“I don’t like people knowing my business.”

“I hardly think you having a temporary assistant will be big news in town. If they even find out. Farley doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who talks about anything let alone gossip.”

“Everybody talks eventually, Miss Albertelli. I don’t have to help them out.” He pushed himself away from the counter. “And neither do you.”

Everyone talks eventually.

She didn’t know it at the time, but Alex’s parting remark was the last she heard from him for two days. He disappeared Lord knows where shortly after, leaving her to wander Nuttingwood alone.

“I see you more often,” she said to Puddin’ the cat when he made his daily appearance on the terrace. “He’s like a ghost, only showing up at night.” She knew he showed up then because she could hear him pacing the floor. Pacing and pacing.

“Maybe if he wrote something upbeat he’d be able to sleep.” What pages she’d deciphered so far were darker than the man himself. Bitter too. Brilliant but bitter. About as far removed from Chase the Moon as you could get. “Like they were written by two different people,” she told Puddin’. Maybe in a way they were.

With each passing hour she kicked herself a little harder for her lack of due diligence before taking this job. Instead of asking questions, she had let herself get distracted by the size of her impending paycheck. Sure the money was a priority, but why didn’t she think to get a little more information about her boss? She’d really like to know what his story was. Why he seemed so angry at the world.

“I know, I know,” she said to Puddin’, “keep your head low and mind your business.” That was the rule. “But if I knew why, then maybe I’d know if this disappearing act was going to play all summer.”

It still wasn’t too late to find out. Wasn’t that what the Internet was for? Without giving it another thought, she rose from her seat, moving so fast Puddin’ jumped too. Farley said he’d been delivering groceries between three and five years. Chase the Moon came out about six years ago. Surely in six years there would have been some kind of news article written about Alex Markoff, right?

A dozen keystrokes later, she had her answer. The Actress and the Author: It’s Love! screamed the tabloid headline.

Alex Markoff, in love with a movie star? Seemed incongruous if you asked her. But there was proof. A photo of Alex and a familiar blonde cozying up to each other over a cup of coffee. An odd kind of irritation settled over her as she read about their courtship. Apparently the starlet, Alyssa Davenport, met Alex at a book signing. A whirlwind romance followed and much to everyone’s surprise the couple married and settled in Los Angeles where one of Alex’s short stories was being made into a film. Alex’s fame and her looks made them a favorite for the camera. A click of the mouse found dozens of photos. At fund-raisers. At movie premieres. On a producer’s yacht. Of Alyssa’s platinum-blond hair and perfectly formed features. In every photo Mrs. Markoff appeared lovingly perched on her husband’s arm, her smile a glowing complement to Alex’s somber, almost reluctant expression. Even living a fairy tale, he didn’t smile.

Another click and the story changed. “What Went Wrong?” asked the headline superimposed over Alyssa’s face. Other stories promised to reveal “Markoff’s Dark Secrets.”

Everyone talks eventually. And talk they did. Friends, acquaintances, even employees offered lurid “insider” details of the marriage, the breakup and the couple’s intimate life.

“Did everyone who knew him give an interview?” she asked aloud.

“Short answer, yes.”

Kelsey’s stomach dropped. Slowly, she raised her eyes from the screen, coming face to face with Alex. Fury darkened his features. “What the hell are you doing?”

She tried to answer but the words stuck in her throat. Instead she ended up opening and closing her mouth like a fish gasping for air.

Meanwhile, Alex turned the laptop around and glared at the screen. Kelsey could feel the rage boiling up inside him. Which made his tightly controlled voice doubly scary.

“I’ll ask again. What do you think you’re doing?”

“I—I—” Tucking the hair behind her ear, she took a deep breath and steadied herself. A difficult task, what with the death stare Alex was throwing her way. “I’m sorry. I thought maybe if I knew more about you I could—”

“Could what, Miss Albertelli?”

The glare got worse, forcing her to look away. All of a sudden, her answer didn’t sound so adequate. “Understand you better,” she replied softly.

Apparently Alex didn’t find the answer adequate either. His jaw muscle twitched as he looked from her to the screen and back. “You want to understand me better?” he asked finally, his voice even more maddeningly controlled than before. “Then understand this. My private life is that—private. You do not have the right to root around in my past, no matter what your reasons are.”

I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t such a mystery, Kelsey muttered inside her head. Still, she knew Alex was right. She dropped her gaze to her hands, feeling like a kid caught breaking house rules. It was a feeling she detested, although never so much as this particular moment, since she had no one to blame for her predicament but herself. “It won’t happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t. Because you’re leaving. Today.”

Leaving? As in fired?

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why didn’t she listen to her own rules and mind her own business? No, she had to go poking around in Markoff’s past and get herself fired. Fired as in out on the street with no reference. Who knows how long it would take her to find a new position? Images of collection notices flashed before her eyes. She was so screwed.

“Mr. Markoff, wait!”

Having issued his order, Alex had turned and marched out. Kelsey scrambled after him, catching him by the shoulder. “You need to reconsider.”

He whirled around, lightning flashing in his stormy eyes. “I don’t need to reconsider anything. I’m not the one who invaded my privacy.”

“Please. I need this job.” Lord, but she hated the pleading note in her voice. Another insult courtesy of Grandma Rosie.

“You should have thought of that before you went on Google.”

“But—”

“Today, Miss Albertelli. Go pack your things.”

Idiot. What was she going to do now? Maybe she could get Stuart Lefkowitz to intervene….

She didn’t relish playing this gambit, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and if she had any hope of paying off Grandma Rosie’s debt in a reasonable amount of time, she didn’t have a choice. Alex was almost to the garden door. If he left, who knew how long he’d be gone.

“What about Mr. Lefkowitz? He’s not going to be happy with another delay.”

That stopped him. “Stuart’s happiness isn’t my concern.” He still sounded haughty, but a hint of wariness had crept in.

“I’m sure that’s true,” she replied, “but…”

His lips became a tight line. “But what?”

Now or never. Slowly, deliberately, she crossed the room, making sure her eyes stayed locked with his. It wasn’t easy, what with the fluttering in her stomach that accompanied each step. “But you and I both know he doesn’t want more delays.”

He tried to disguise the hitch in his breath, but she heard it nonetheless. The cards were on the table. He knew that she knew about the breach of contract. For several seconds, the only sound in the entire house was the ticking of the hallway clock. Kelsey waited, holding both her ground and her breath.

Finally, he let out what sounded like a strangled groan. She recognized the noise as defeat. “Why won’t the world just leave me alone,” he muttered, jamming his fingers through his hair. “Is that so much to ask?”

The pain in his growl did little to ease her conscience as Kelsey watched him stomp away. Although he didn’t say so, she knew she’d won the challenge. He wouldn’t throw her out. This time anyway. She waited until she heard the front door slam before sinking to the sofa in relief. Relief accompanied by a hefty dose of guilt. Cursing, she smacked a nearby cushion.

So much for her getting on Alex Markoff’s good side.

CHAPTER THREE

THAT night, Kelsey went out to eat. After the day’s debacle, she wanted to put as much distance between her and Alex as possible. She ended up in town at the local inn. The two-hundred-year-old building featured a pub in the basement, so she tried drowning her guilt with a cheeseburger and Irish music. No such luck though. Her conscience still felt lousy. She could kick herself for being so nosy. Alex was right; his past was none of her business. After all, how would she feel if someone poked around in her life?

And yet, thanks to those shocking Web sites, here she was obsessing more than ever. There was something about the man she simply couldn’t let go of. Something in the way he expressed his anger. In the way he begged the world to leave him alone. There was despair in those gray eyes of his that told her there was far more to Alex Markoff than some angry, mournful hermit.

What was he like before his divorce, she wondered. Carefree? Happy? She tried to picture him laughing and came up short.

How sad. Even she found occasion to laugh once in a while.

It was well past midnight when she returned to Nuttingwood. She might have arrived back earlier, but no sooner did she leave the restaurant than the sky erupted in a monstrous thunderstorm. Thanks to the torrential rain, the wind and the lack of streetlights, she couldn’t see more than five feet in front of her on the drive home. As a result, she missed the fork with the pine tree and had to retrace her path.

Happily, Nuttingwood was dark when she pulled into the drive. Alex was, no doubt, avoiding her as well. She dashed to the front door, bumping her hip against the marble entranceway table the second she crossed the threshold. Cursing for not leaving a light on, she felt along the wall until she found the switch and flipped it upward.

Nothing happened.

She flipped the switch again. And again.

“You’re wasting your time.”

Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the room and she caught sight of a dark silhouette at the great room window. “You’re wasting your time,” Alex repeated. “Lights went out thirty minutes ago.”

Kelsey drew closer. Now that her eyes had adjusted, she could see Alex was doing more than simply standing at the window. He was kneading the muscles on the back on his neck. He wore a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants with no shirt. His hair was messed too. He must have been lying down when the storm hit. Seeing him so exposed felt queerly intimate, almost voyeuristic. For the first time since she moved in, Kelsey realized she shared a house in the woods with a flesh-and-blood man. A very handsome, very desirable man. The sudden awareness made part of her grow shaky while other parts became painfully awake.

“This happen often?” she asked. “Power outages, I mean.” Nice to know how frequently they’d find themselves together in the dark. Because of a storm, that is.

“If the wind blows hard enough.”

“And how often is that?” she asked, reaching his shoulder. He didn’t turn around upon her approach, seemingly intent on studying the shadows in the garden. Lightning flashed, and she caught his reflection. His expression was much farther away than this room.

“Often enough. There’s an emergency generator in the basement.”

“You haven’t turned it on yet?”

“I like the darkness.”

Why am I not surprised?

“Did you say something?”

“Nothing important.” She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud. Covering, she changed topics. “Lightning’s putting on quite a show.”

“Suppose.”

“When I was little one of the other fost—other kids told me thunder and lightning were caused by alien attacks. Scared me so much I would hide under the covers.” She could still remember cowering under the blanket, clutching her mother’s cup to her chest like a talisman. “The stupid things kids fall for, huh?”

“Not only kids.”

“What?” His voice was so soft, she missed part of his sentence, making it her turn to ask, “Did you say something?”

“Nothing important.”

Intuition said otherwise, but she didn’t press. He wouldn’t admit the truth if she did. So instead, she stole what had to be the hundredth look at his profile. In the dark, she could only see the outline of his features. His expression was impossible to read. Even so, his magnetism was stronger than ever. Maybe because they were alone, or because the dark made everything that much more intimate, but she felt surrounded by him. There seemed no escaping his scent or the heat emanating from his body. She could even feel the rise and fall of his chest, his breathing strained as it filled his lungs. His desolation was palpable, so much so she hurt for him. She found herself wanting to reach out and soothe his pain.

“I’m sorry about this afternoon,” she said softly. “I had no right to snoop behind your back.”

“No, you didn’t.”

The corner of her mouth twitched upward with guilty amusement. “You don’t believe in cutting people slack, do you?”