“You should hold out for the dean’s job.”
She waggled her hand at him, three fingers extended. “And third, I could be the new roving expert for Connoisseur’s Choice.”
“A stuffy old magazine about antiques and collectibles.” Dylan shrugged. “No wonder you’re coming back here instead.”
“Look,” Amy said. “It’s already apparent that you’ve got a chip on your shoulder about me being here. So let’s get one thing straight. It wasn’t my idea to come back, because I don’t want this job. As far as I’m concerned, Gavin should have turned the whole works over to you till he’s back on his feet. You’ve been his personal assistant for six months now, and if you can’t run this business on your own for a while he ought to fire you.”
“Thank you,” Dylan said.
His tone was meek, but Amy saw a glint in his eyes that she thought must have been anger. But why should she be surprised? Of course he was irritated that Gavin had preferred to trust her—despite her long absence from the business—instead of him. And since Gavin wasn’t around, of course Dylan was taking that irritation out on her.
“At least,” he went on, “I think there may have been a compliment buried somewhere underneath all that.”
Amy wasn’t listening. She had suddenly remembered what Beth had said—Maybe there’s another way.
And maybe she didn’t have to turn herself into twins in order to have it all.
“I’ve got a proposition for you,” she said suddenly.
Dylan looked around the room. “Perhaps there’s something in the ventilating system,” he mused. “Because propositions seem to be part of the atmosphere in this office.”
Amy willed herself not to turn pink. “I’m certainly not talking about Honey’s kind of proposition. Gavin’s got a fixation that I’m the only one who can run this place, which is absurd.”
Dylan didn’t speak, but she thought she saw a gleam of agreement in his eyes.
“But frankly, I have a lot of things I’d rather do. So let’s make a deal. I’ll be enough of a figurehead to keep Gavin happy, but you’ll be the boss in everything but name. You can run the place as you see fit, I’ll go take on my new job, and we’ll both have what we want.”
Dylan was shaking his head.
“Why not?” Amy asked crossly. “If you’re holding out for the title of acting CEO, believe me, I’d give it to you if I could.”
“Titles never appealed to me much. And I’m not fond of being a sacrificial lamb, either.”
Amy gasped. “What on earth—”
“This plan of yours is a pretty nice setup—for you, that is. If I pull it off, you get the credit. But if I don’t, you can tearfully confess to your father that it wasn’t your fault because I was really the one at the helm all along.”
“He’d be furious at me for ignoring his wishes and putting you in charge.”
“Not as angry as he’d be if you screwed things up personally. No, Ms. Sherwood, you’re not dumping this one on me. Because if you try, I’ll hand you my keys—and quit.” He rocked a little farther back in the chair. “So what are we going to do about it?”
CHAPTER TWO
AMY felt as if he’d picked up the pre-Columbian statuette from her father’s desk and hit her over the head with it.
She stared at Dylan, unwilling to believe she’d heard him correctly. But his voice had been firm and absolutely level. He meant exactly what he’d said…or else he was the best poker player Amy had ever run into.
What would happen if she called his bluff? Or at least let him know that she wasn’t entirely convinced he was willing to burn his bridges so completely?
She smiled. “You won’t quit.”
His eyes narrowed, but his tone was cordial. “If you think I’m joking, try me.”
“I don’t believe you’d desert my father while he’s ill—and if you quit on me, it’s just the same as abandoning him.”
Dylan looked at her with a gleam of admiration in his dark-blue eyes. “You’re almost as good a manipulator as Gavin is, you know.”
“Besides, you can’t just walk away from this job. Okay, maybe you’re not charmed by the terms I’m talking about, but that’s perfectly understandable. I’m not delighted with them, either. But—”
“Get one thing through your head, dear. I don’t want your father’s job any more than you do.”
Doubt crept into Amy’s mind. “Don’t call me dear,” she said automatically.
“Why shouldn’t I? If we’re not going to be working together—”
“But you’d be crazy to quit now. You’ve put six months into this job, and by now you must be thinking of how you’d run the business if it was left in your hands. Any red-blooded male would. And this is your opportunity to prove yourself.”
Dylan shrugged. “I don’t happen to have anything to prove.”
“But you can’t quit.”
“Of course I can. Your father hired me, Amy. He didn’t purchase me.”
Amy’s doubts were rapidly being overwhelmed by panic. Even though she’d suggested to Gavin that he could rely completely on his assistant, she hadn’t realized how much she herself had depended on Dylan to be there as a sort of safety net. Even before she’d had the brainstorm of letting him take over entirely, she’d counted on him to lend her a hand, to bring her up to speed after her long absence.
It was bad enough that she was having to take over for her father at all. But it had never occurred to her that she might have to do it entirely by herself.
She’d been prepared for Dylan to resent her being boosted above him on the management ladder. She’d have bet her next paycheck—wherever it might come from—that he was too competitive not to object when he was passed over, especially in favor of a woman who had been gone so long she might as well be an outsider. But even then it had never occurred to her that he might actually quit.
“It never crossed my mind,” she said almost to herself, “that you might not even be ambitious enough to want Gavin’s job.”
Only when she saw his eyes grow chilly did she realize that it might not have been a wise thing to say. Come to that, she reflected, she didn’t entirely believe it even now.
But whatever his reasons were, they didn’t matter at the moment—because she simply couldn’t let him leave. At the same time, she could hardly let him see how desperate she was to have him stay, or he’d be waving a resignation letter at her any time things didn’t go his way.
“What on earth would you do instead?” she asked. “If you quit?”
His eyebrows rose. “I do have a few talents.”
“Of course,” she said hastily. “But—”
“And surely, after your dramatic exit, you’re in no position to tell me that it’s necessary to have a second job lined up before quitting the first one.”
Amy bit her lip. “No, but—”
“Especially when the boss has provoked the resignation.”
“I’m trying not to provoke you!”
“Really? I’m afraid I missed that part. And though it’s kind of you to