and sexy Southern accent made her insides hum.
“Don’t be a fool,” she muttered, turning back to her desk.
She wasn’t interested in Caleb Walker any more than he was interested in her. But as she stared at the documents on her desk, she couldn’t stop thinking about how broad his shoulders looked in his chambray shirt, how his jeans fit him like a second skin or how her hand still tingled where he’d touched her.
When a tiny moan of frustration escaped, she quickly stuffed the pile of accounting reports she’d been reviewing into her briefcase, grabbed her purse from the bottom drawer of the desk and headed for the door. “I’ll be out of the office for the rest of the day,” she told Geneva as she rushed past her.
A.J. didn’t wait for the startled receptionist’s reaction to her atypical behavior. She didn’t have time to worry about that now. She needed to get to her apartment before the cool persona she’d perfected over the years slipped away and she revealed what only her parakeet, Sidney, knew about her.
Alyssa Jane Merrick wasn’t the cold, emotionless automaton everyone at Skerritt and Crowe thought her to be. She was a living, breathing woman who collected whimsical figurines, shed buckets of tears over sentimental or touching moments, and feared failure more than anything else.
As she walked across the parking lot, she quickened her steps and trotted the distance to her sensible black sedan. She was less than a split second away from doing one of two things. She was going to either let loose with a scream loud enough to wake the dead or start crying like a baby. Neither one was acceptable behavior for her professional image.
Unlocking the driver’s door, she threw her briefcase inside, slid behind the steering wheel and closed her eyes. She counted to ten, then twenty as she struggled with her emotions. For the first time in five years, she was close to losing the tight grip she had always held on herself whenever she was at work. And that was something she simply couldn’t afford to let happen.
She had never, nor would she ever allow any of these people to see her lose control. Not only would it be a serious breach of her professionalism, but her late father would come back to haunt her for doing something so typically female.
From the time she’d been old enough to listen, her career-military father had stressed how important it was not to let her enemies see any sign of weakness. And there was no doubt about it, Caleb Walker posed a serious threat to her professional demeanor. But he was also the best-looking enemy she’d ever seen.
Two
“The first thing I want to do this morning is assure all of you that your jobs are secure,” Caleb said, addressing the directors and department managers. He made it a point to look directly at A. J. Merrick. “Contrary to standard corporate practice, I have no intention of letting anyone go in favor of bringing in my own people. The only way you’re going to lose your job is if you make the decision to quit.”
The doubt he detected in her blue gaze stated quite clearly that she still didn’t believe him. What he couldn’t figure out was why it mattered to him that she trust him. If their collective sigh of relief was any indication, the rest of the occupants in the room did. What made her opinion of him so damned important?
Deciding not to dwell on the mystery of why her doubts bothered him, Caleb turned his attention back to outlining his plans for the company. “I’ve reviewed the quarterly reports for the last fiscal year and although growth is slow, it has been steady.” He grinned. “And as my grandpa Walker always said, ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’ That’s why I won’t be making changes in the daily operations of the company.” At least not until I can take a few business courses and figure out what the hell I’m doing.
“I like the way your grandpa thinks,” Malcolm Fuller said, nodding.
Caleb chuckled. “I’m glad that meets with your approval, Malcolm.” He’d met the older man the day before and they’d instantly hit it off. Malcolm reminded Caleb of Henry Walker, his late grandpa—filled with country wisdom and more than willing to speak his mind.
When Caleb noticed several raised eyebrows and the exchange of curious glances between the other department heads seated at the big oval conference table, he frowned. Apparently all of the employees at Skerritt and Crowe were as unaccustomed to the laid-back, informal approach to management as A. J. Merrick was.
Taking a deep breath, he figured there was no time like the present to shake things up and see how receptive the management team was to the changes he did have planned. “Although I don’t intend to adjust the operating procedures, I do plan to make a few improvements to the work atmosphere around here.”
“What did you have in mind, Mr. Walker?” Ed Bentley asked, looking more than a little nervous.
“The first thing we’re going to do is drop the formalities.” Caleb gave them all a smile he hoped would put their minds at ease. “Don’t you think it’s pretty silly to work with someone eight hours a day, day in and day out and not use their given name?” Before they could react, he went on. “We’ll naturally continue to give our clients the respect they deserve and address them in a formal manner. But I want you all to feel free to be on a first-name basis with me, as well as each other.”
The men and women at the table began to smile. Everyone, except A.J. Her clasped hands resting on the table in front of her had tightened into a white-knuckled knot, indicating that she strongly disagreed with his decision.
Why would she object to doing away with an outdated tradition? Hadn’t she learned in college that a more relaxed environment encouraged teamwork and raised productivity? Hell, he’d found that little tidbit of information on the Internet, so it couldn’t be that big a secret.
“You want us to call you Caleb?” Maria Santos asked hesitantly.
Grinning, he turned his attention to the director of the payroll department. “That’s my name, Maria.”
“What other changes do you have planned…Caleb?” one of the other men asked.
“Effective immediately, there’s an open-door policy between upper management and the workers on the floor.” He paused to let them digest his statement. “I want every employee we have, no matter what their position, to feel comfortable with bringing problems and complaints to our attention, as well as sharing ways to improve morale and bring in new clients.”
“You’ve got a lot of good ideas,” Joel McIntyre, the head of the billing department, said, nodding his approval. “Is there anything else?”
“As a matter of fact there is, Joel.” Caleb smiled. He was sure the last couple of changes he was about to announce would be welcomed by everyone, including A. J. Merrick. “Since most of our business is conducted over the phone and through the Internet, I don’t see any reason why we can’t relax the dress code around here. I’ll still expect you to dress accordingly when you meet with one of our clients, but from now on you’re all free to wear whatever you like.” He chuckled. “That is, as long as it’s decent and doesn’t look like something you’d put on to clean out the barn.”
He laughed out loud when several of the men immediately reached up to remove their ties and unfasten the top button of their shirts. “I guess this means everyone is in favor of doing away with the dress code.”
When he glanced at A.J. his smile faded. Well, almost everyone.
“Is
