What would Harry do if one of the brides wasn’t pregnant by July? Hell, there were no guarantees. Surely the old man would be fair. If they’d fulfilled their part by marrying suitable women, surely Harry would give them some leeway on the pregnancy question.
But what if he didn’t?
What if, after finding brides, they ended by losing their stakes in Harry’s empire, anyway?
P.J. was just about to walk out the door when her cell phone rang. Checking the number, she saw it was her brother.
She pressed the talk button. “Hey, Peter, what’s up?”
“Nothing much. Just haven’t talked to you in a couple of weeks and thought I’d better see if you were still alive.”
Why was it Peter always made her feel guilty? “I’ve been busy. For some reason, lots of people have decided they need Hunt products this month.”
“So business is good?”
“Very good.”
“And you still like that…job?”
“I still like my job.” Peter asked the same questions every time they talked. It was as if he couldn’t believe anyone could possibly enjoy the kind of work she did. He was always telling her she was wasting her education, not to mention her brain. His lack of respect for what she did used to make P.J. mad. Now she just patiently gave him the same answers and ignored his jabs.
“Allison said to tell you hello. She’s looking forward to seeing you at Dad’s birthday dinner next week.”
P.J.’s father would turn seventy the following Saturday and they were celebrating with a big family dinner at her parents’ home.
“I still haven’t figured out what to buy him,” she said. “He has everything. What’re you and Allison giving him?”
Peter laughed. “You’re not going to believe this.”
“What?”
“A guitar.”
“A guitar!”
“It was Allison’s idea.”
P.J. was laughing now, too. “Did he say he wanted a guitar?”
“Nope. But you know how he is. A total workaholic. Allison said he needed something to do that was relaxing and fun. A hobby of some kind. So we settled on a guitar. I mean, he used to like Dylan. I actually heard him listening to Dylan’s music once.”
P.J. was still laughing. “Maybe I should arrange for him to have some lessons.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“Think so? Okay, then. I will.” Somehow she didn’t think her father was going to be pleased, but she had to hand it to Allison and Peter. They had guts.
“So what are you doing tonight?” Peter asked. “Got a hot date?”
P.J. snorted. “Yeah. Sure. Actually, I was just getting ready to join some of the guys from work at a local pub.”
“I won’t keep you then. See you next week, okay?”
They said their goodbyes, and P.J. finished clearing off her desk, then headed out the door. Fifteen minutes later, she walked into Jake’s Grill. Quickly scanning the crowded room, she spied the group from HuntCom.
Even as she told herself she wasn’t looking for him, her gaze traveled around the group to see if Alex was there. When she didn’t see him, she told herself she wasn’t disappointed. If anything, she was relieved.
But she knew she was lying.
“Hey, P.J.’ Bout time you got here.” This came from Mike Fields, who worked out at the docks.
Everyone scooted their chairs to make room for her, and P.J. grabbed an empty chair from another table and squeezed in between Carrie Wancheck and Chick Fogarty.
She motioned to a nearby waitress. “I’ll have a bottle of Beck’s, Jessie.”
“Sure thing, P.J.”
Carrie nudged P.J.’s arm. “You just missed Alex.”
P.J.’s traitorous heart skipped a beat. “Alex who?”
“Oh, c’mon, P.J. Alex Noble. Your new sexy employee. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh. Him.”
“Yeah, him. I tried to persuade him to go to Costello’s with me, but he had to leave.”
P.J. pretended indifference. “Maybe he had a date.”
Carrie frowned. “Think so?”
“A man like him? I don’t see him sitting home on a Friday night.”
“Shoot. You’re probably right. Well, I’m not giving up. Guys like Alex don’t come along every day.”
“You know, Carrie, he really is a lot older than you are. And you don’t know anything about him.”
“He’s gorgeous, he’s well-spoken, he smells good, and he has a fantastic smile. I mean, those dimples!” Carrie sighed. “The only thing he doesn’t have is money.”
P.J. refrained from rolling her eyes. “How do you know that?”
“Oh, please. As if he’d be working as a picker if he did. I mean, come on, P.J.”
Not for the first time, P.J. wondered what her coworkers would think if they knew about her and her family. Then again, she knew what they’d think. It was the reason she’d decided to use initials instead of her first name, which was Paige, when she’d come to work for HuntCom.
P.J. wanted to be treated like everyone else, and if they’d known she was the daughter of Peter Prescott Kincaid and—until she’d repudiated it—heiress to a multimillion-dollar trust fund, there was no way she’d be one of the guys the way she was now.
“Well, money or not, he’s still too old for you,” P.J. said.
“He’s not that old. I’m guessing he’s in his early thirties.”
“Thirty-six.” P.J. had checked his application.
“So? That’s only fifteen years older than me. Big deal.”
“He might have an ex-wife and ten kids.”
“Oh, please,” Carrie said, rolling her eyes.
P.J. could see that nothing she said was going to head Carrie off. She had set her sights on Alex, and she wasn’t going to be persuaded otherwise.
And why should you care?
She didn’t care. As a thirty-year-old, more experienced woman, she just felt she should look out for the younger women at work, that’s all.
But even as she told herself this, P.J. knew she was lying to herself. For some reason, Alex Noble intrigued her. More than intrigued her.
Admit it, you’re attracted to him.
Even though there was something about him that just didn’t add up and even though she’d told Courtney she didn’t believe in dating an employee and even though she knew there’d be no future in it—how could there be, given her situation?—she knew ifAlex Noble were to ask her out, she would want to say yes.
But it would be madness. Absolute madness. Dating Alex Noble would do nothing but cause trouble for her.
So, regretfully, even if he were to ask her out, she would have to say no.