rubbed a weary hand across the back of his neck. He had to admit the woman had a point. “From the time Megan moved in with me last week, she’s called me constantly here at work. I can’t get anything done and when I point this out to her, she bursts into tears and accuses me of not loving her.”
Poor little girl, Savanna thought sadly. She must be miserable. “Do you love her?” Savanna couldn’t help asking.
Joe stared at her as if she belonged in a mental institution instead of his office. “What the hell kind of question is that? Of course I love her. She’s my daughter!”
Her question had offended him, but it was obvious to Savanna that this man needed some daddy lessons in the worst kind of way. “And just because she’s your daughter, she’s supposed to know that?”
He shot her a look that said she was inching onto dangerous ground. Savanna decided she’d better let well enough alone for the time being. She’d already put herself in a bad light with this man. If she intended to help Megan with her daddy she had to hold on to this job for a few more minutes, at least.
After moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue, she started again. “Your daughter wants to walk to the library with a friend. The friend’s name is Cindy and she lives across the street from you. Shall I tell Megan she has your permission to go?”
Joe opened his mouth to utter a curse word, then just as quickly snapped it shut. A whole string of expletives wouldn’t relieve the pressure boiling in his head. “Why does she constantly need to be going somewhere? Why can’t she find something to do at home, like any normal person?”
“Because your daughter isn’t any normal person. She’s a teenager.”
His mouth twisted. “That’s supposed to explain everything?”
Savanna was struggling not to lose her patience with him. “Surely you can remember being one, can’t you?”
One eyebrow arched upward as he looked at Savanna. Did he look that old to this woman?
“I’m sure the next thing you’re going to tell me is that I should let her go,” he said, more as a statement than a question.
What was he doing, Savanna wondered. Testing her? Was this job really being a secretary for a drilling company, or in the end would it be more about dealing with his daughter?
“Thirteen is certainly old enough to walk to the library. And it would show her you trust her to be responsible.”
“I haven’t been around my daughter enough to know whether I can trust her or not,” he said with a pang of regret, then wondered why it had taken this woman to point that out to him. Damn it, if he’d been a better father he would have used the few weekends he’d spent with Megan to get to know her better instead of trying to entertain her.
Savanna inwardly shook her head. The man was totally serious. He’d had a daughter for thirteen years. Yet he’d just insinuated he really didn’t know her. Savanna’s own father was hardly perfect, but at least he’d always been there for her. But then, maybe she wasn’t being entirely fair to Joe McCann, Savanna reconsidered. He might not have ever had much time with his daughter. Especially if his ex-wife hadn’t wanted him in the picture.
“Well, you’ll never know whether you can trust her until you give her the chance to prove herself,” Savanna told him.
Joe didn’t know anything about this woman except that she’d been late to work and didn’t have any qualms about speaking her mind. But she had managed to pacify Megan without sticking the phone into his hand. And after several days of his daughter’s endless calls, he could only see that as a major improvement.
“When she calls back, tell her she may go. But she has to be back in an hour and a half. And that you’ll call the house to make sure she’s returned on time.”
Smiling gladly, Savanna nodded.
That settled, Joe turned and headed toward a coffee machine situated in the far corner of the room.
Bemused, Savanna asked, “Does this mean you still want me for the job?”
He glanced at her over his shoulder, and Savanna didn’t miss the wry twist on his lips.
“Against my better judgment.”
Chapter Two
The smile faded from Savanna’s face as she folded her arms defensively over her breasts. “You really know how to make a girl feel needed, Mr. McCann.”
His eyebrows peaked at her remark. It had been a long time since Joe had wanted to make anyone feel needed, he realized. Especially a woman.
“Believe me, Ms. Starr, making you feel needed was not on my agenda this morning.”
Savanna’s nostrils flared and Joe watched her rose-colored lips purse with disdain. He’d never particularly liked short hair on a woman. Certainly not as short as Savanna Starr’s, which left her ears and neck exposed and a shock of thick blond bangs falling over her forehead. But he had to admit that it looked damn sexy on her.
“Having a flat wasn’t on my agenda, either,” she couldn’t help retorting.
Joe glanced over at his desk. Not because he was searching for something. He merely needed to get his eyes off her and remind himself that just because she had a cute little face with warm brown eyes and a body that curved in all the right places didn’t mean he needed her for a secretary. He already had enough on his mind without adding a woman to his problems.
But the way she’d dealt with Megan led him to believe she could actually help matters where his daughter was concerned. And right now that was the most important thing he needed to consider.
As though they couldn’t bear it any longer, his eyes traveled back to her. “Tell me, Ms. Starr, do you normally have flat tires on your way to work? Or can I depend on you to be here on time?”
Savanna decided not to let his gibes anger her. She didn’t like the wasteful emotion, and from what she could gather from the few minutes since she’d arrived, things hadn’t been running very smoothly for him. She could only wonder how long it had been since he and his daughter had actually lived in the same house. And what had happened to his marriage in the first place?
Dear Lord, had she lost her mind? Joe McCann’s past family life was none of her business. She shouldn’t be thinking of him as a man. He was her boss! And even that was a shaky deal.
Giving herself a hard mental slap, she said, “No, I don’t normally have flats and I’m rarely late.”
“That’s good. Because I don’t need you out on Interstate 40 waiting for some macho man to come to your rescue. I need you here.”
I need you. Why did those words blot out everything else he’d said up until now? Whenever she looked at him, why did she want to peel back the layers of his sarcasm and look for the real man she suspected was underneath? Changing that flat this morning must have addled her brain!
“I’ll tell you what, Mr. McCann. In the future, if I need rescuing on I-40, I’ll be sure to call you.”
He could
