In Bed with the Boss. Christine Rimmer. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Christine Rimmer
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408910597
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the store and bought groceries, including a small, beautiful, way-too-expensive filet mignon. She also applied for a passport. And since she would probably be needing it soon, she paid extra to get it fast.

      The afternoon went by in a warm glow of anticipation for the job she just knew she was going to love.

      Shelly did love her new job.

      And she really liked her new boss. Truthfully, she liked Tom a little too much, and she knew it. There was just something about him—beyond his good looks and strong handshake, his sense of humor and that tempting aura of power and command he wore so confidently. There were…shadows behind his eyes. Though he never came across as brooding or sad, she still had a feeling he’d been through tough times—and come out a better man for them.

      She constantly reminded herself that a feeling was not reality. He’d probably been born into privilege. And if he’d suffered, it had been over whether to go to Harvard or Yale.

      Yes, she liked him. And she was attracted to him. But so what? Nothing was going to come of it. She was there to work, not to get involved with the boss.

      On her fifth day on the job, Verna announced she was leaving a week earlier than she’d planned.

      “After all,” the older woman said. “No point in having the two of us in each other’s hair when it’s perfectly clear to me you can handle everything just fine on your own. I’m going to talk to Tom about this right now. I’m thinking I’ll finish out the week on call. I’ll be out of your way, but you can give me a buzz if necessary. Monday, you’re on your own. And Hank and I will hit the road. What do you say to that?”

      “I say I really hate to see you go…”

      Verna laughed. “But you can’t wait for the chance to have this desk to yourself. Well, it’s all yours. Starting tomorrow, I’m outta here.”

      The phone was ringing when Shelly got home that night. She raced in the door and grabbed it on the fourth ring, just before her machine picked up.

      It was her uncle Drake. “I hear you’re exceeding expectations at that new job of yours.”

      “How do you know so much?”

      “I thought I explained that. There are always ways…” Which explained exactly nothing.

      “Uncle Drake, I’m starting to think you have spies at TAKA-Hanson.” She said the words jokingly, even though she had a feeling he did have spies at the company. He would have to, wouldn’t he, to have known about her job before anyone else did, to have found out that she was doing well when she’d been there a week and was still, technically at least, a trainee?

      He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Assistant to the CFO, hospitality division. I like the sound of that.”

      “Me, too.” She reminded herself that she ought to be grateful to him. She was grateful to him. “And seriously. I love this job. It’s exactly what I was hoping to find. And thanks to you, I did find it. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your mentioning that it might become available.”

      “Glad to help. Now, I want you to get good and settled in. Prove yourself trustworthy. That’s important. Next time I’m in Chicago, we’ll have dinner again. We’ll talk. I might have a favor or two to ask by then.”

      Alarm jangled through her. Was her long-lost uncle setting her up somehow? For what?

      Cautiously, she asked, “What kind of favor are we talking about here?”

      “No need to get ahead of ourselves.”

      “But I really would like to know. You keep hinting that there’s something I can do for you, but you never—”

      “Well, I was thinking along the lines of a little… information gathering. As Holloway’s assistant, you’ll have access to certain sensitive material I can’t get any other way.”

      “Access to what, exactly?”

      “Later. Right now, you only need to do your new job and do it well.”

      “Uncle Drake, are you telling me you want to spy for you?”

      She heard him sigh. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves, don’t you think?”

      “No, I don’t. I need to know specifically what you’re going to expect me to—”

      Again he interrupted her. “Don’t worry, Shelly. I just wanted to congratulate you and tell you to keep up the good work. I’ll call you. Soon.”

      Before she could say another word, she heard the click on the other end. He’d hung up. She set the phone down carefully and tried to decide what she ought to do next.

      Call him back and demand specifics? She knew already what she’d get for that. He’d tell her again not to worry.

      Should she call her mom, ask for advice? No. It wasn’t her mom’s problem and she didn’t want to worry her.

      But the situation made her nervous. Her uncle, who’d spent most of his life behaving as if her branch of the family didn’t exist, showed up out of nowhere, wined and dined her and then told her where to go and what to do to get the kind of job she’d been seeking for months with zero success.

      It was too perfect. Add his warning that she shouldn’t mention him at TAKA-Hanson? Definitely suspicious. And now he’d told her right out that in time he would want her to spy for him.

      But so what? She’d done nothing wrong. She would do nothing wrong.

      And until her uncle actually asked her to do something unethical, she would mind her own business and not borrow trouble.

      Chapter Two

      The next day, Shelly claimed Verna’s desk for her own. She got to work at seven-thirty and set up the computer the way she liked it. She went through the desk drawers and rearranged them to her personal satisfaction.

      Tom arrived at eight-fifteen. “First day flying solo, huh?” He wore a designer suit and a tie that matched his eyes and she thought he looked amazing.

      “I’ve got Verna’s cell on auto-dial if I need her. Which I won’t.”

      “Confidence. I like that.” He looked at her with admiration. She resisted the urge to smooth her hair. “Give me fifteen minutes and we’ll go over the calendar.”

      “Will do.”

      He disappeared into his office and she stared at the place he’d been, grinning like a fool.

      Note to self: mind on the job, not on the boss.…

      The day progressed without a single crisis—not on Shelly’s end, anyway. She put the final touches on the arrangements for Verna’s retirement party, which she’d managed to move up to tomorrow night after Verna had confided that her husband wanted to head for some RV park in Ohio on Sunday.

      Tom spent most of his day putting out fires.

      He had to call an emergency meeting about the San Francisco flagship site. The hotel was supposed to be opening in September and the interiors, according to the site manager there, were a disaster. The designer was not only over budget, but also behind schedule. Way behind schedule.

      There was also some problem at the Kyoto site. The facility there was still under construction, and things had been moving right along until the past few weeks. And there were accounting issues, as well. Tom took another long meeting with his managers to discuss the situation.

      Friday he told Shelly he would be going to San Francisco on Monday and then to Japan on Thursday. “You’ll probably have to move a few meetings around for me. Go over my appointments and make the calls. Push everything to the following week, if you can. We should have the day here in Chicago on Wednesday, so you can pack it with whatever can’t be put off till the week of the thirtieth. Let me know if there are issues.”