Autumn stood straight up, casting her eyes down just so she could catch her breath. “I don’t like cutting people any slack,” she said, sending him a confident look in spite of the shaking of her hands. “I’ll just have to ignore that side of you—a lot.”
Then she turned and hurried out of his office, her back straight, her heels clicking a hasty path away from him and his rules he aimed to break.
He was just that kind of man—the kind who could cause a woman to break all the rules right along with him.
She needed another drink of water.
Chapter Four
“So how are things at work, honey?”
Autumn looked up from the papers she’d been going over to find her mother staring down at her. From the look of concern marring her mother’s oval face, Autumn figured Gayle was more worried than curious. Why did everyone around here seem to be walking on eggshells? Did they all think she’d have some sort of breakdown, throw a hissy fit if things didn’t go her way?
Autumn had always prided herself on being the calm one. She had watched on more than one occasion as April told people off in classic, understated tones, and she’d watched, cringing, as Summer went at people with gusto, never holding back. Autumn held back, analyzed the situation, thought things through, then determined how best to handle the situation. She didn’t throw fits.
Or at least she hadn’t until she’d come home to find a squatter taking over the family business. Now it seemed as if everyone in Cass County was giving her a wide berth. Which meant she had to be extremely diligent in her professionalism and her loyalty to her father’s legacy. She couldn’t taint the Maxwell name, after all. Especially over some handsome, irritating, smart-aleck intruder like Campbell Dupree.
An intruder who kept a worn Bible amid the clutter on his desk, she reminded herself. Don’t think about the nice parts, she also reminded herself. Don’t think of him as anything but a coworker. And most of the coworkers she’d known were ruthless and cutthroat, out to get ahead no matter who got in their way. Campbell would probably do the same, regardless of whether that meant stepping all over the boss’s daughter.
She looked at her loving, serene mother, and told herself not to allow any of her own bitterness and misgivings to cloud her mother’s beautiful face.
“We’ve been busy,” Autumn said, careful to choose just the right words. Her mother could always tell whenever Autumn was hedging. “The firm is solid, Mama. Our clients are happy and we’ve reassured most of them to ride out these latest market fluctuations. We’re planning a financial seminar in a couple of weeks, just to acquaint our clients with Campbell and me. That should bring in some new clients, too—”
Gayle held up a hand, her diamond-encrusted bracelet watch slipping down her arm. “I don’t need to know the financial status of the firm, Autumn. Your daddy brags about that with every waking breath. The man lives and breathes IRAs, SEPs and mutual funds. He’s very proud, you know. I was asking more about how things are going between you and Campbell.”
“Oh, that.” Autumn shrugged, then twirled her gold pen between her fingers just long enough to put on a blank face. “Honestly, we stay so busy, I can’t really comment, other than to say he is good at what he does.”
Very good, she wanted to add. Very good at being charming, very good at being up-to-date, no matter how hard she tried to stay ahead of him, very good at making strong coffee and crunching numbers to the point that she wanted to weep from the sheer beauty of the man’s brain, and very good at smiling up at her each time she walked into his office.
In fact, the man smiled at her even when she was frowning at him. Which was just about every time she ran into him. She’d enter frowning, and somehow, he’d have her exiting with a laugh. It just wasn’t fair. Accountants were supposed to be stoic and studious, weren’t they? Accountants weren’t supposed to ride in red shiny things or big loud machines, were they? And surely, accountants weren’t supposed to look as laid-back and unconcerned as a rodeo clown, were they? The man wore sneakers to work. He talked about all these grand, daring adventures he’d been on, around the world and back. Hiking, biking, mountain climbing, fishing, sailing. You name it, Campbell had done it. She hoped the man had a good life insurance policy.
“So you two have hit it off?” Gayle asked, looking over her reading glasses at Autumn.
“We work well together,” Autumn responded.
He was spontaneous and disorganized.
She was anal-retentive and compulsively organized.
Yeah, they worked well together, all right.
“Are you sure?” Gayle asked as she settled across the breakfast table from Autumn, a copy of the Citizens’ Journal rustling in her hands. “I mean, are you two really getting along? Your father is in such a tizzy, worrying about this.”
“Tell Daddy not to worry,” Autumn said, dropping her pen and looking over at her mother. “I don’t want him worried about anything. Campbell and I are working together and we both agree that we won’t bring personal agendas into the workplace.”
Gayle let out a gentle gasp, her eyes going wide. “But you do have…personal agendas?”
Autumn felt the flush of entrapment moving down her face. Beneath that debutante demeanor, her mother was shrewd and all-knowing. She needed to remember that. “No, that’s not what I meant. I’m just saying that we know how to be professional. We’re working toward the common goal, to keep Maxwell running smoothly. And Daddy is welcome to check in on us any time he wants.”
“Oh, I know that,” her mother said, smiling. “In fact, he’s on his way to the office right now, to have a nice long breakfast meeting with Campbell.”
Autumn jumped up, shuffling papers. “He is? Then I’d better get over there. He might have questions for me.”
Gayle’s carefully arched brown brows rose as she stared up at Autumn. “No need to hurry, honey. Your father specifically wanted some private time with Campbell. You know—the old-boy network.”
Autumn could feel her hackles rising. Telling herself to calm down, she stopped stuffing papers in her Burberry briefcase. “Oh, really. And just what does Campbell Dupree have to say that I can’t hear? Is he already undermining me to my own father?”
“I didn’t say that now—”
“But you said this is a private meeting. I thought I was supposed to be an equal partner. And already they’re having closed-door meetings behind my back?”
She was halfway to the back door when she heard her mother’s low chuckle. Turning, Autumn perched a hand on her hip. “And just what is so funny, Mama?”
Gayle held a fist to her mouth. “Oh, my. You, suga’. The way you tossed all those papers in your briefcase, the way you were heading out the door, all bent on doing battle—I’d say there is a whole lot of something personal going on between you and Campbell. A healthy competition, at least.”
“Competition is good,” Autumn said, taking a deep breath and wishing she’d kept her cool about this. Obviously, her mother had been waiting for just such a show of insecurity and pettiness. “And competition is nothing personal. It’s all about business—my father’s business.”
“How could any of us forget that?” Gayle asked, still smiling. “You would walk through fire for your daddy, I do believe.”
“Yes, I would,” Autumn said, thinking that the last couple of weeks working with Campbell had been like walking through fire. At times, she felt hot and clammy, other times cold and alone. She just never knew what to expect with Campbell. And she prided herself on always knowing what to expect, had trained herself to stay ahead of the competition