a stack of similar ones. She handed it to him. “Along with the meeting agenda, I printed out the list you made of the private collections coming up for bid in the next few weeks.”
He opened the folder, noting the neatly presented agenda with his handwritten notes now added in bold typeface. There were a few pages behind the first and he idly flipped through them, stopping at the last one. “What’s this?”
“Oh.” She smiled. “The next catalog layout looked a little crowded, so I adjusted a couple of the pictures and …”
He glanced at the work she’d done and had to admit it looked much better than it had before. The Ming Dynasty vases were each spotlighted now against a softly lit background, rather than lumped into a section that buried their distinctive beauty.
“I know I shouldn’t have, but—”
“You did a good job,” he said, closing the folder and looking up into her soft blue eyes.
“Really?” She gave him a bright smile. “Thank you. That’s great. I was a little nervous about taking that on myself, I can tell you. It’s just that this job is very important to me and I want to do it well.”
An unfamiliar twinge of guilt poked at Vance as he read the eagerness in her gaze. She fairly vibrated with the thrill of her new job. Which only made him feel worse for regretting taking her on in the first place.
So maybe he’d give this a shot. All he had to do was stop noticing Charlotte as a woman.
But one quick look up and down her petite, curvy figure shut down that idea.
The phone rang and she reached for it. “Vance Waverly’s office.”
Her voice was low, seductive. Or maybe that was just his impression, he chided himself.
“Please hold,” she said and hit the button on her phone. When she turned to him, Charlotte said, “It’s Derek Stone, calling from the London office.”
“Oh, good.” Grateful for the excuse to leave Charlotte and get back to work, Vance took the folder and stepped into his office. “Put him through, please, Charlotte. And after this call, hold all the others.”
“Absolutely, Mr. Waverly,” she said.
Vance closed the door then strode across the room to his desk, barely noticing the thud of his footsteps against the gleaming wooden floor. Paintings by undiscovered artists hung alongside a couple of old masters on the ivory walls. A long couch hugged one wall, with a low-slung table and two chairs opposite it. A wall of windows stood behind his desk, offering a view of Madison Avenue and the always-busy city of Manhattan.
Reaching for his phone, he turned his back on the view, dropped into his chair and said, “Derek. Good to talk to you.”
Completely drained, Charlie blew out a relieved breath and practically crawled back to her desk. The bright, cheerful smile on her face felt brittle enough to crack and she hoped to heaven that Vance Waverly hadn’t sensed just how nervous she was around him.
“Does he really have to smell so good?” she muttered as she fell into her chair and propped her elbows on the desk. Cupping her face in her palms, she told herself to get a grip.
Her hormones didn’t listen, sadly, and continued their happy little dance of excitement. This happened every time she got close to Vance Waverly and it was damn humiliating. How could she be so attracted to a boss who terrified half the people in this building?
But there it was. He was tall and broad-shouldered with dark brown hair that always looked a little tousled. His brown eyes had flecks of gold in them and his mouth almost never curved in a smile. He was all business and she had the distinct feeling that he was watching her closely, looking for any excuse he could find to fire her.
Which she was not going to allow to happen.
This job was the most important thing she had going for her. Well, she thought, sliding a glance at the photo of the smiling toddler on her desk, the second most important thing. But professionally, it was no contest. Working for Vance Waverly, a senior board member, was the chance of a lifetime and she wasn’t going to lose it.
Taking a breath, Charlie nodded and sat up straight. She glanced at the photo of her son, Jake, again, and reminded herself that she might have been hired as a favor to an old friend, but she had the qualifications to do this job brilliantly. She was going to stay positive and upbeat and cheerful if it killed her.
When her phone rang, she grabbed it quickly. “Vance Waverly’s office.”
“How’s it going?” a familiar, feminine voice asked in a rush.
Charlie shot a quick look at the closed door to her boss’s office as if to make sure he was locked away and oblivious to this phone call. “So far so good,” she said.
“What did he think of your ideas for the catalog layout?”
“You were right, Katie,” she said, imagining her friend down in Accounting grinning in response. Charlie had worked on the new layout for the catalog in secret, indulging herself with how she would have done things. Katie was the one who suggested she actually show her ideas to Vance. “He said I did a good job.”
“See? Told you.” Katie was typing as she talked; Charlie heard her fingers tapping wildly against the keys. “I knew he’d like what you did. He’s a smart guy. He’s bound to notice that you’re doing a terrific job.”
“In the last week, mostly he’s just been watching me, as if he’s waiting for me to screw up,” Charlie told her, with another glance at her baby son’s smiling face.
“Maybe he’s just watching you because you’re gorgeous.”
“I don’t think so.” Though that thought sent a skittering of something delicious whipping through her. Instantly, though, she poured metaphorical ice water on those feelings. She wasn’t here for a date. She was here to build a better life for her and her son. And this new job with the lovely raise was a big part of her grand plan. All she had to do was convince her new boss that she was indispensable.
“Have you looked in the mirror lately?” Katie countered. “Trust me, if I was playing for the other team, even I would hit on you.”
Charlie laughed at the very idea. Katie was juggling so many men she hardly had a moment to herself. But the truth was, Katie had a point. Most people looked at Charlie—blond hair, big blue eyes and boobs any Barbie doll would be proud of, and immediately came to the conclusion that she didn’t have a brain in her head. She’d spent most of her life proving people wrong.
The one time she had gone with her heart instead of her head …
“He’s not like that,” Charlie said with another look at his closed door.
“Honey, all men are ‘like that.’”
Charlie ignored that and lowered her voice. “I know he only hired me as a favor to Quentin.”
“So what? Who cares why he hired you, Charlie?” The sounds of typing stopped abruptly and Katie’s voice came across the phone loud and clear. “It doesn’t matter how you got there. The point is,
