He recalled her reaction to him when they met; if any other man was interested in Melissa Grant, he was out of luck.
Adam watched Jason tilt his head to one side, as if making certain of his words, before he said, “She’s not bad on the eyes, but she’s nearsighted as all hell. Man, she can’t see a thing from a distance of five feet, and when she does wear glasses, they’re on top of her head instead of on her eyes.” Adam couldn’t control the laughter that erupted from his chest. His head went back, and he laughed aloud, causing Jason to gape at him, apparently stunned.
“What’s so funny, Adam? That’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh in the four years I’ve been working for you.”
Adam stood, effectively terminating the meeting. “You don’t want to know, Jason. Believe me, you don’t.” He went to his office, closed the door, and enjoyed a good laugh. The morning she’d come to his office, Melissa hadn’t seen him clearly until she was close enough to touch him, and what she saw must have sent her hormones into a tailspin. At least it was mutual.
* * *
The flashing phone lights brought him out of his heretofore unheard-of indulgence in reverie. “Roundtree.” He’d hoped it was Melissa calling to say that she had found a prospect, but it was his younger brother, Wayne.
“I’ve engaged a search firm to find a head for Leather and Hides, Wayne. Yes, I know you’re not keen on headhunters, but it’s the most efficient way to get the kind of person we want.” He didn’t mention that he’d hired Melissa Grant to do the job; time enough when the bimonthly report circulated. He wasn’t ready to take on Wayne and his mother, especially his mother, about dealing with a Grant or a Morris. Mary Hayes Roundtree would go to her grave despising the Morrises and Grants. Such a waste of emotion! He got up from his desk and began to pace. Wayne was asking a lot of him. The telephone cord reached its limit and halted Adam’s pacing.
“You’re suggesting that I leave my firm here in New York and spend three months in Frederick reorganizing Hayes/Roundtree Enterprises? But I’ve just been made full partner, Wayne—this is hardly the time to amble off for a few months leave of absence. I know you have your hands full with the paper, but I’ll have to give this some thought and get back to you.”
A leave of absence. He could do it, though he disliked leaving his department in the hands of another person, even Jason Court. But what choice did he have? Wayne wouldn’t suggest it if there was a way around it. His brother couldn’t continue to manage both the leather factory and the newspaper. He needed that manager. He walked around to Jason’s office, thinking of the fallout when their families learned of that contract.
* * *
That question plagued Melissa as she prepared and ate a light supper and mused over the day’s events. The telephone ended her reverie, and one of her father’s demands greeted her hello, shattering her good mood.
“Daddy, I know you think my business is child’s play, but it has supported me well for five years, and I’ve never asked you for help. Can’t you at least credit me with that?” Wrong tactic, she knew at once: independence was precisely what he sought to deny her. “I can’t leave my business and go back home. And I don’t want to.”
“Your mother needs you,” he replied, emphasizing the words this time as if to say, “You wouldn’t dare disobey me.”
Scoffing, she ignored his words. She didn’t wonder that her brother, Schyler, had taken a job overseas to avoid the emasculating effects of their father’s dominance, overprotectiveness, and indulgence.
“Daddy, I’m running a business here. I hire three people full time. I can’t close my business like that—” she snapped her finger “—and leave them and my clients stranded. I have contracts to fulfill.”
“But your mother’s been feeling poorly, and I want you to come home. You don’t have to work—I’ll take care of you. You come home.”
“Don’t my responsibilities mean anything to you, Father?” Melissa wanted to kick herself—he knew she always called him Father when he managed to make her feel like a small child.
His answer didn’t surprise her. “What’s an employment agency? Anybody can run that. You come home where you belong.” Why had she expected anything different? He could as well hire a companion for her mother, and if she went home, he probably wouldn’t even realize she was there. And if her mother needed anyone, it was her husband, the man who ignored her at home but played the besotted husband in public.
Her father hadn’t wanted a girl and had ignored her, but he doted on her brother, and her mother seemed to love whatever and whomever her father loved, because she hadn’t the will to confront or defy her domineering husband. Resentment coursed through her. No matter what she did, her father wasn’t satisfied with her. And now he demanded that she give up the life she’d made for herself. For as long as she could remember, she had done everything she could to please him, but whenever he needed something he imposed on her, never on his precious Schyler.
“I’ll go down and see Mother,” she told him, “but I’ll have to come back.” He hung up, and she knew he was furious, but for once she didn’t care. Immediately shame and remorse overcame her for having thought unkindly about her family. Family was important—Rafer Grant held that premise sacred and had taught her to do the same. She mulled over her father’s suggestion; perhaps moving back to Maryland might not be such a bad idea. She could care for her mother, and computers and fax machines would enable her to run her business from there. She’d also have lower overhead, and she’d be away from the temptation of Adam Roundtree.
Chapter 2
Several days later, frustrated by the poor caliber of the applicants she’d contacted, Melissa answered the phone without waiting for her secretary to screen the call.
“MTG.”
“Melissa? Adam. You must have guessed that it was me. Otherwise you wouldn’t have picked up, right?” What had come over him? She’d had the impression that he didn’t joke much, but that if he did, his words had an important, second meaning.
“Well?”
His voice carried a tantalizing urgency that challenged her to open up to him, but the very idea put her on guard, and she shifted in her chair. He had to be thirty-four or -five and couldn’t have reached that age without knowing his effect on people, especially women. Well, if he wanted to play cat and mouse, fine with her, but she was not going to be the mouse.
“Sure thing,” she bantered. “Didn’t you know that I’m a psychic?” She wasn’t, but let him think about that.
“You disillusion me. I thought you answered because you’re on my wavelength, but I’ve been wrong a few times. How are you getting along?”
“Just fine.”
“You have some good prospects? That’s great.”
“I don’t have any prospects, but I’m just fine.” Silence greeted her delicate laugh. “Adam, what happened to that sense of humor you had a minute ago? Don’t tell me that it only operates at somebody else’s expense?” Before he could reply, she asked him, “You wanted something?”
“I told you. I want to know how you’re getting along with the search.”
“Adam,
