“I graduated two years early,” she told Paul by way of an explanation.
Which was true. Eager to start leaving her mark in the world, Ramona had opted for an accelerated course of study. It had allowed her to crunch four years of high school into three and then do the same with college. To make it work, she’d attended school year-round, picking up courses part-time in the summer. In her spare time, she had also worked any job in her field she could get her hands on. That in turn gave her a much-needed solid core for her résumé. Monty had done the rest, embellishing where he could. He was also responsible for half the letters of recommendation in the folder.
She was unusual, Paul decided, he’d give her that. “In my experience, most people like to extend their college experience if they can.”
“Maybe so,” she allowed. “But I wanted to get started with my life,” she countered. “College was great,” she added quickly, not wanting him to think she was bucking for some kind of sainthood, “but college isn’t life. It’s more like the TV version.” Angling the monitor so that it turned in his direction, Ramona realized that she’d come full circle and made the offer again. “Would you like to read what I’ve written so far?”
That would probably be the best way to determine whether or not she could actually do them some good, he thought. Or if having her around was just Derek’s way of having eye candy on hand.
“Actually, I would.”
Smiling, she hit the key combination that caused the wireless printer in the corner to come to life. Within moments, it produced the four pages she’d composed. Ramona crossed to the machine and removed the sheets, then returned and handed them to Paul.
And that was when he realized that he’d gotten caught up in watching her move, and Paul found that for once he couldn’t fault his brother for admiring Ramona’s looks. He had to admit, the sway of her hips was something to behold. It was enough to even make a man believe in Santa Claus.
Chapter Four
Back in his office, Paul read through Ramona’s pages.
Even if he wanted to, Paul could find no fault with the rough draft that she had given him to review. Obviously the new public relations manager definitely had a way with words.
Maybe, Paul thought, putting the four sheets of paper down on his desk, Derek was actually onto something.
There was a quick rap on his office door and before he could say, “Come in,” the person on the other side of the knock did.
Speak of the devil.
Derek stuck his head in, holding on to the doorknob as if he was prepared to make a quick getaway. Paul couldn’t help wondering if something was wrong. Derek seemed edgier to him these days. Was that just because of the tense climate at the institute, or was there more to it than that?
“You can stop holding your breath,” Derek informed him cheerfully.
“I wasn’t aware that I was.” Paul waited for his brother to follow up with an explanation.
“Sure you were. About Little Miss PR’s fate,” Derek prompted when Paul continued to look at him quizzically. “I got Lisa to come on board with our decision.”
“‘Our’ decision?” Paul asked, emphasizing the plural possessive. Was Derek trying to share the blame, or the glory?
“Sure.” Derek looked surprised that he was even questioning that it was a joint effort. “You wanted to hire her, too, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes, now,” Paul admitted, because he had been won over, but he certainly hadn’t started out that way. “However—”
Derek breezed right past his brother’s “however” as he continued his narrative. “I convinced Lisa that we need a professional to help take the tarnish off the institute’s reputation. Ramona stays.”
Paul thought how angry Lisa had looked when she’d stormed into his office earlier. He shook his head in wonder. “Derek, you could probably sweet-talk the devil into giving you back your soul, couldn’t you?”
Derek inclined his head. He saw no reason to argue. “If I had to.” And then he grinned. The harried look he’d sported earlier faded as he asked, “By the way, you wouldn’t be referring to our youngest sister as the devil, would you?”
Paul blanched. That was all he needed, to have Lisa think he was calling her names behind her back. “No, I would never—”
Derek laughed, waving away the rest of whatever his twin was about to protest. “Take it easy, Paul, I was only kidding. You’re so nonconfrontational you wouldn’t even call the devil a devil.”
Paul read between the lines. “Are you telling me I’m spineless?”
Derek sobered for a second. His voice was devoid of any cynicism or sarcasm. For a fleeting moment, it almost seemed to be a tad wistful. “No, I’m telling you that everyone thinks of you as the ‘good’ brother. The nice guy.”
There was something in his brother’s voice, an unfathomable undercurrent that caught Paul’s attention. This was the second time today that he felt as if a member of his family was hiding something, keeping something back. Prodding, he had a feeling, was going to be as futile with Derek as it had been with Olivia, but he wouldn’t have been Paul if he didn’t try.
“Is something on your mind, Derek?”
And just like that, the serious look in Derek’s eyes completely vanished. The cocky, confident air was back. In spades.
“Something’s always on my mind, Paul.” He winked broadly. “It’s called responsibilities. Gotta fly. I’m heading out.”
Paul tried to pin Derek down to something specific. “For the day?”
“For the rest of the week.” That, Paul knew, was what he was afraid of. Of late, Derek behaved more like a hurricane, striking swiftly and then moving on just as quickly. “Maybe longer,” Derek was saying. “Listen, I was going to help familiarize Ramona with the institute, give her a tour of the place, answer any questions she might have, that kind of thing. But now that I’m not going to be here, I’d really appreciate if you did the honors for me.”
“Why aren’t you going to be here?” Paul wanted to know. For his part, he was always here. Or at least it felt that way. He was not only chief of staff at the institute, but he saw his patients here, as well. Derek, on the other hand, hardly seemed to be present at all.
“Something came up” was all that Derek would say. “I need you to fill in for me. Will you do it?” To the untrained ear, it sounded as if Derek was giving him a choice.
But Paul knew better.
He frowned. He wasn’t good with people in any prolonged capacity. And he was exceedingly bad when it came to making small talk. Despite their age difference—he was thirty-six to her twenty-five—he had a feeling that Ramona Tate was far more of a sophisticated creature than he was. This was out of his ballpark.
“Can’t Lisa do it?”
Derek laughed shortly, dismissing the suggestion, or, in this case, request. “Lisa’s got a lot on her plate right now, too. Besides, she’d be too busy sizing Ramona up to be of any help. You know how competitive our baby sister can get.”
This was true, but she’d always been fiercely competitive with her three siblings—not, to his knowledge, with strangers.
“Why would she be competitive?”
Derek