Who's the Boss? Page 3

  Well, he’d been partially successful, she thought. She didn’t like him, but she wouldn’t run off because of it.

  “Last door on the left is my office,” Joe said gruffly, stepping into the hallway to point it out. “I hate to be interrupted, so stay out.” He looked at her expectantly then, a little hopefully. Maybe she’d still run off if he were boorish enough?

  As if she’d read his mind, she laughed at him. Laughed. The unexpected sweet sound had Joseph’s stomach muscles tensing.

  “Are you waiting for me to cower from such a fierce command?” She shook her head, her short blond bob flying. Her flowery fragrance wafted up, assaulting his nostrils, annoying him because she smelled so damn good he found himself straining for another sniff. “Or maybe, better yet, you think I’ll run off with my tail between my legs.”

  Her words put a vivid picture in his mind of what was between her legs.

  “Should I remind you whose daughter I am?” she asked, breaking into his startling sensual thoughts.

  Her father had backed down to no one. “I know whose daughter you are.”

  “Good. And I don’t frighten easily.”

  Mad at her, at his techs and at himself, he stalked back into the front office.

  “Clearly,” she muttered, “I’m to follow you.”

  Why today? he wondered helplessly. Why, when he was so damn close to finishing his program, did he have to deal with this? With a quick glance upward, he grimaced. Thanks, Edmund. Hope you’re getting a kick out of this.

  Caitlin passed him in the hallway. “Maybe I would be better off at Del Taco.”

  He watched as she sashayed prettily into the main office, her hips swinging in tune to his undisciplined hormones. “I’ll give you a lift to the nearest one.” Then, to soften the words he realized were unkind, he offered the sweetest smile he could.

  She shook her head. “Well, I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

  Her mouth was pouty, lusciously red, and the most inane thought popped into his head.

  She must taste like heaven.

  The woman was a blond bombshell, with a complete lack of work ethic, designed to torture him. And yet he couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d look like spread across his desk wearing one of those come-hither looks.

  “So...how many employees do you have here?” she wondered aloud, interrupting his erotically charged thoughts.

  “Besides the three idiots you’ve already met, just me.”

  “And now me,” Caitlin added.

  “I’m doing my best to change that.”

  Ah, sarcasm. Well, she could understand that. The way he kept his big body so tense, she imagined he was quite uncomfortable. Most men, in her experience, fought unease with a sort of bearish aggression. Her father had been the king of that act, though he’d never used it on her, and she imagined this Mr. Brownley wasn’t much different. “I’m sticking, Mr. Brownley.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  Her bravado was quickly taking a beating in the face of his stubbornness. Before she caved in completely, she tried small talk. “I thought CompuSoft was huge. According to my father, this place was the future of progressive software.”

  Incredibly, Joseph’s eyes softened. His attitude vanished. “He said that?”

  It was obviously an illusion that he suddenly appeared so vulnerable. He was about as vulnerable as a starving black bear waking from hibernation. “He was quite proud of this place.”

  His throat worked. His voice sounded hushed, almost reverent. “I take that as a huge compliment.”

  Her father never complimented lightly, and just thinking about him hurt when she was tired of hurting. He’d rarely complimented her. To combat the thought, she desperately continued her one-sided conversation. “How could you have only the four of you here?”

  “This is no longer the huge corporation it was under your father. We’ve been siphoned off, separated from all his other various businesses. We’re on our own, just a few of us designing and supporting software.” He gave her that impenetrable stare again. “You didn’t get a copy of the will?”

  Caitlin noticed that whenever he mentioned her father, he watched her carefully. But she could hear his thick disapproval, and her stomach tightened in response to the unfamiliar stress purling through her.

  If he only knew how she’d pored over that darn will, wondering what had happened to her nice, cozy life.

  If only he had a clue as to how lost she felt in this new, unsafe world, or how much resentment for her father she harbored deep down in her heart.

  “Yes,” she managed to answer with her usual cheekiness, refusing to let him get to her. “I got it.”

  “If the terms were too difficult to comprehend,” he said slowly, finally succeeding in stirring her rare temper, “you should have asked someone to explain it to you.”

  “Contrary to what you must believe about me, I do understand the written word.”

  “All of your father’s companies were divested. CompuSoft was half-mine to start with, so he simply willed me the other half.”

  Her father could give this man half a company, just hand it over, and he couldn’t leave her a penny. Couldn’t leave her anything but a measly job with a man who couldn’t abide her. It took every ounce of common courtesy she had not to resent Joe Brownley for this.

  Well, okay, that was a big fat lie. She did resent him. A lot. “Nice of him.”

  “Nice?” He missed the sarcasm and let out a short laugh that seemed harsh. “It was incredible. The most generous thing anyone’s ever done for me—” He stopped abruptly, stared at her. “I have no idea why I’m telling you this.”

  She didn’t, either. It hurt unbelievably to know her father had thought so little of his own flesh and blood that he’d left this man more than he had his only child. “Where do I start?”

  “So you’re staying, then?”

  “Yes.”

  He sighed. “Fine. This is the reception desk.” He gestured behind him to a wide desk facing the entrance. At least, she assumed it was a desk; all she could see were stacks and stacks of paperwork, files, various computer parts and what looked like an old, forgotten take-out food bag.

  “All you have to do is come in on time, which around here is eight o’clock, and answer the occasional phone.” He sent her a long look. “Can you do that?”

  “Hmm. I think I can manage.” She was really going to have to teach him a thing or two about manners. As for the ungodly hour, she’d have to work on it. “Surely you have more needs than just answering your phone.”

  His light eyes darkened. His mouth curved, making her blink in surprise. Sullen, the man had been beyond handsome. Smiling, he was stunningly gorgeous.

  “I don’t think you want to hear about my needs.”

  No. No, she didn’t, Caitlin decided as her heart took off running. “Probably not.”

  Slowly, he ran his gaze down the length of her, then back up. When he met her eyes with his, an unmistakable heat radiated from them. Caitlin had been on the receiving end of looks like that ever since she’d grown breasts, so she’d long ago learned to tune them out. Yet now, under Joe Brownley’s suddenly hot gaze, as unbelievable as it seemed, she felt herself blush. “Something wrong with my attire?”

  “Yeah,” he said in that low, disturbingly sexy voice. “In this office, you’ll need something a little... more.”

  She’d known it! Her clothes were all wrong. “More?”

  “Shapeless. Like a potato sack.”

  She laughed. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in a potato sack.”

  “You’re distracting.”

  “Your techs were refreshing and charming. I don’t think I’ll have a problem here with them.”

  He turned and started back down the hall, his long legs churning up the distance in just a few strides. “I wasn’t talking about the Three Stooges, princess,” he called back.

  Oh.

  Oh.

  3

&nbs
p; THE BUILDING THAT HOUSED CompuSoft was small for downtown, Caitlin thought. But it was brick and glass and strangely cozy.

  There was a small coffee stand on the lobby floor, complete with doughnuts, croissants and mouth-watering pastries. Caitlin couldn’t resist stopping there before getting on the elevator, if only to drool.

  After all, if she had to suffer mornings, then she needed junk food.

  A lovely brunette woman, about Caitlin’s age, wearing an apron and a harassed smile came up to her. “Can I help you?”

  Caitlin thought of her last dollar drowning in the bottom of her purse. “How much is that chocolate thingie over there, last one on the row?”

  “In calories or cents?”

  Caitlin laughed. “Either way, I’m sure it’s too expensive. Besides, I shouldn’t. Oh, man, I really shouldn’t.” Ruefully, she tapped her curvy hips.

  The woman let out a reluctant smile, which softened her entire face. Her green eyes sparkled with life that hadn’t been there before. “This is what I tell myself every morning.”

  Caitlin eyed her spectacular figure—all willowy and slim. “How many do you eat?” she asked doubtfully.

  She shrugged. “Depends on how rude the customers are, which varies. The more annoying jerks I serve, the more I eat.”

  Caitlin sighed and thought of Joe. “I’m afraid if I stopped here every time my boss annoyed me, I’d be busting out of my clothes in a week.”

  The woman laughed now, and gave Caitlin a much more genuine smile. “You’re new here. I’m Amy.”

  “I’m Caitlin.” She dug into her purse to appease her rumbling stomach, and accepted the huge chocolate pastry.

  Amy grinned, removed her apron and grabbed a pastry for herself. “Just in case the crowd gets crazy later, I’ll take my break now.”

  They pigged out together.

  BY THE TIME HE GOT to his office the next morning, Joe was high on adrenaline, his mind racing ahead, thinking about his software program.

  With a little luck, he figured he could make real headway today, if he got in the good ten to twelve hours he needed.

  As previously arranged, he had first stopped at one of the local banks to meet with a loan officer, hoping to start the preapproval process. He wanted to be prepared when his program was complete, so he could properly promote and sell it. To do that, he’d need money—a lot of it.

  Despite the hassles ahead, he grinned and silently thanked Edmund for the thousandth time. Without the old man’s generosity in deeding him CompuSoft, Joe wouldn’t even be thinking about this for himself. Edmund had provided the means for Joe to spend the time needed to work on his program. With Edmund’s death, that could have all ended for Joe, but it hadn’t.

  It was a dream come true.

  Whether it was just his own bad luck or his unique ability to actually forget absolutely everything but his work, he entered his office and, completely unprepared, stared stupefied at the front desk.

  It had been cleaned off, or rather cleared off—everything was on the floor. Amazing piles of important-looking stuff surrounded the base of the desk.

  As he took a step into the chaotic room, he tripped and nearly fell flat on his face—over a pair of ruby-red four-inch pumps.

  Empty pumps, he noted.

  Which would explain the barefoot woman on all fours, facing away from him, affording him the best view he’d seen all morning. Apparently, both Tim and Andy felt the same way, because the two techs, who normally couldn’t be budged from their computers, were on the floor, as well, making neat little stacks of God only knew what.

  Caitlin’s head popped up when he shut the door behind him, and she craned her neck around from where she’d been pulling out more stacks of paperwork from beneath her desk.

  Hard as it was to imagine, Joe had completely forgotten about his new secretary.

  “Good morning,” she said in a sexy, cheerful voice that reminded him he still needed a cup of coffee.

  Badly.

  Tim and Andy leaped to their feet, faces red.

  “Hey, Joe,” Andy said quickly, sticking his hands in his jean pockets. “How’d it go at the bank?”

  “It wasn’t as exciting as it appears to have been here.” Joe lifted a brow as Caitlin stretched her lush, petite body as far as it would reach to get a file that had been shoved beneath the far corner of her desk.

  Tim’s and Andy’s jaws dropped open at the sight, but Joe could hardly blame them. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a finer looking rear end.

  And he’d seen his fair share.

  But his quick surge of lust, coming on the heels of forgetting about his new secretary—whom he hadn’t wanted in the first place—only further annoyed him. Already half the morning was gone, and by the looks of things nothing had been accomplished except for a shifting of the mess from the front desk to the floor.

  He sighed.

  Hadn’t he known this would happen if he kept her?

  And dammit, hadn’t he asked her to wear something to hide that body?

  Women, like his work, received his full attention. But they were also simply a diversion—a pleasant one, but temporary nonetheless.

  It had to be that way.

  He’d grown up in emotional chaos. Painful emotional chaos. That’s what personal attachments did. Chopped up the heart and spit it back out. Brought nothing but the opportunity for hurt. With hurt came weakness, and he couldn’t allow that.

  He relied on himself, and that was it. He’d been remarkably relationship free. By choice. And any entanglements he’d enjoyed had been short but sweet.

  An involvement with a co-worker couldn’t be temporary, couldn’t be short and sweet and therefore couldn’t be contemplated. No matter how fine the...assets.

  To prove it, he purposely turned his gaze away from the incredible sight before him.

  Tim and Andy still stood there stupidly, gawking like teenagers. Joe opened his mouth to bark at them, but Vince appeared in the doorway, glasses on his nose, disk in hand.

  “Guys,” Vince said sternly. “You came out here to check on Caitlin half an hour ago. What’s going on—” He broke off at the sight that had rendered both Tim and Andy and then Joe speechless. Carefully, he closed his mouth. Then he glanced at Joe, both amusement and irritation swimming in his gaze.

  Joe jerked his head sharply, and Vince nodded. “Tim, Andy, let’s hit it.”

  Joe sighed when they disappeared and wondered exactly how long it would be before the socialite decided she didn’t want to play at working anymore.

  Hopefully very soon.

  “Well, I beat you in,” Caitlin announced, obviously expecting a medal.

  “You should,” he said, watching her wiggle up to her knees in the tightest, shortest, reddest skirt he’d ever seen. How had she gotten into that thing? “It’s ten o’clock. What the hell are you doing?”

  “Filing.” She slapped her hands together to rid them of dust. “This place is a disaster. Don’t you ever clean?”

  “No, and I knew where everything is...was,” he protested, trying not to panic.

  “It’ll be better,” she promised him. “You’ll see.”

  He doubted that and was about to tell her so but his phone rang. He watched, fascinated, as Caitlin stood and yanked down the short little jacket that matched her siren-red skirt before scooping up the receiver. “Hello?” Quickly, she covered the mouthpiece and batted her warm brown eyes at Joe. “Should I tell them this is CompuSoft?” she asked in a loud whisper. “Or is that redundant, do you think, since they called us and they most likely know who it is they dialed?” She bit her full, red bottom lip in indecision.

  “Just find out who it is,” Joe suggested through his teeth. “That might be a good place to start.”

  She nodded quite seriously and turned back to the phone. “Yes, who is this, please?” Her brow creased in concentration. Her hair settled around her flushed face. Then she lit up with the most dazzling smile Joe had ever seen. “Oh, isn�
�t that sweet of you,” she gushed. “I’m sure he’d love that, yes. Thanks so much.” She hung up the phone and dropped back to her knees amid the mess she’d created all over his floor.

  Joe found himself once again staring at her very cute wriggling butt. “Caitlin.” His voice came out slightly strangled, and he had no idea if it were irritation or something more basic, such as his own software became hardware.

  She stopped wriggling and smiled at him. “Yes, Mr. Brownley?”

  He knew for a damn fact she was only eight years younger than him and she was calling him mister. “Joe.”

  “Okay. Joe.” She turned back to whatever the hell it was she thought she was doing.

  “Who was on the phone?” he demanded.

  “Oh. AT&T.” She sent him that same dazzling smile, the one that did funny things to his knees. “They’re going to send you a one-hundred-dollar credit for switching to their service for a trial period of two weeks. Isn’t that sweet of them? Though you probably shouldn’t have left them in the first place. I understand from that nice operator I just spoke with they have the best prices in the country.”

  Joe closed his eyes briefly and reminded himself that though he relied only on himself, rarely allowing another into his life, he had loved Edmund. He owed the man, and this woman—this crazy, out-of-control, messy woman—was his debt “I’ll be in my office,” he managed to say finally.

  She sent him a vague smile from where she was shuffling papers—his papers—around. “No problem.”

  As he turned to go, he tripped over her pumps, again.

  SHE COULD DO THIS, Caitlin told herself. No problem. She’d gone through most of her life figuring things out by herself. She’d dealt with the death of her mother all those years ago. She’d dealt with traveling alone, celebrating holidays alone, generally being completely alone.

  She could certainly answer a few phones and straighten up an office, especially since she didn’t have much choice.