turned around from his computer and took a moment to study her. Deliberately he ran his gaze up and down her figure, taking in the rumpled blue suit, the plain white cotton shirt that revealed nothing, not even the swell of her breasts.
He’d guess she wore sensible pumps, but he couldn’t tell because his desk blocked his view of her feet. Even her brown hair was conservative, a short cut that framed her face. He returned his gaze to connect with hers. Despite a slight telltale flush that indicated that she hadn’t liked his perusal, her haughty expression hadn’t changed.
But she was flushed. Good. He liked that he had an effect on her. Whereas she might be able to fool everyone else, he was one man that could see right through her pretenses. While she might be pretty in an Ivory-soap sort of way, she definitely was not nice or pure.
“No, you’re right,” he said as he began his verbal offensive. “As for being tardy, you may not know what I’m talking about. Let me see if I can fill you in. Joe Jacobsen. Jacobsen Stars. Me not mentoring you even if my life depended on it.” He watched her expression turn angry. “I expected you early this morning.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Your grandfather just came to see me a half hour ago to tell me about the program.”
“Ah, that explains it. I’m surprised he didn’t hit you first thing in the morning. I guess he’s slipping. But let me see if I’ve got the rest correct. You’re here because he told you I’m not planning on being your mentor. Don’t even bother trying to convince me otherwise.”
Megan gave a mock laugh. “Since we’ve already cut to the chase, let me continue to follow suit. As if I want you to be my mentor. Do I have a tattoo marked Desperate on my head? If so, tell me, I need to have it removed.”
Harry clapped his hands together and laughed. Quick on the comeback. He liked that. But of course, so was he. His lips pursed together before he spoke. “Score one for Megan. Tell you what though—” Harry gestured with the back of his hand toward the open door “—why don’t you close that before you embarrass yourself. You’d hate for everyone to hear what you’re really like.”
“What I’m really like?” Megan walked to the door. Harry caught a brief vision of Peggy’s surprised face as Megan shut the door with a decisive click. “Now that we’re alone, Harry Sanders, why don’t you explain to me just what you are talking about?”
“I’m sure you know exactly what you are really like, which means that I have nothing to explain to you,” Harry said. He’d been rehearsing this all day, and it was actually going quite well. “Let me just say that your entry into the Jacobsen Stars program is not one of my grandfather’s better ideas.”
“You just wish you could fire me like you threatened to do.”
Now there was a good idea. Too bad she was Grandpa Joe’s pet. Harry shrugged as if the issue was of little concern. “Someday I will.”
Megan gave a haughty laugh. “Maybe if you ever get promoted you might get a chance. Of course, if the day ever comes that you get promoted, I’m sure I’ll want to find another job before you run the company into the ground.”
“Oh, you’ve taken the gloves off, haven’t you, Megan? I wondered if you would. So since you’re here, let’s get down to why you came in the first place. You want me to refuse to be your mentor so that my grandfather chooses someone else for you. Not going to happen. He’s not going to change his mind, and neither will I.”
“What?!” Her mouth dropped open.
He arched an eyebrow. “Did I stutter? It’s not going to happen.”
She gestured wildly for a moment. “Are you insane? Look at us! We can’t stand each other. You’ve done nothing but pick apart my performance since I got here a year ago. I’m sorry. Well, no I’m not. You made yourself look foolish in that meeting, Harry, not me.”
Perhaps, but that didn’t matter. He’d forgotten how intense she could be when angry. He shoved that intriguing thought aside. He had to stay focused.
“That meeting long ago is irrelevant. You are not good for Jacobsen, Megan. You are not a good fit for this company. But since it is not my company until such time that my grandfather and my father both step down and retire, I have little say in the matter.”
This was going better than he thought. He knew she’d come in prepared to fight, to prove they were incompatible. She’d played right into his hands. Megan drew herself up and leaned over his desk. “So step aside and let me have a different mentor.”
“No. You know what they say about your past mistakes coming back to haunt you, don’t you, Megan? That was your mistake, messing with me when you first came to work for Jacobsen Enterprises.”
“I did no such thing as what, messing with you? I came here on a professional basis. You and I may not be able to stand each other, but we can be professional. Why don’t you just step aside so we can get past this issue and move on with our lives.”
She drew a deep breath, as if trying to calm herself. The movement made her breasts press forward. The suit jacket gaped open. She was wearing white lace.
Harry’s throat went dry, and his next words simply disappeared. What was it about a clue train, or conversation train, or something like that derailing? He felt poleaxed. Come on! From seeing catalogs to actually removing women’s clothing during lovemaking, he’d certainly seen lace-covered breasts before. But something about Megan and lace had just caused him to come unglued.
He blinked in order to yank his gaze away from staring at her breasts. He’d totally lost where he was, oh yeah, his office. And what he was saying or about to say? To regain control he stood, his six-foot-two height towering over her by six inches.
“I told my grandfather I’d make my decision soon. Who knows, maybe I just will be your mentor. After all, you’re right. I need to be professional about this.”
“You are such a, you are…”
“Oh spit it out, Megan. You can do better than that. Everyone knows how you enjoy making me look foolish. No one else is listening or even here. You don’t have to pretend to be perfect. Let the real you hang out for once.”
She tossed a hand though her short hair as if she was trying to regain control, and then the words spit forth. “You are a cad!”
Harry laughed. Boy, was she cute when she was angry. “Bravo. Impressive. You could have called me so much worse.”
“You are impossible!” Her brown eyes flashed venom at him.
“Yes,” he said. “I am. I take pride in that attribute.”
“This was a waste of time.” Megan strode over to the door, giving Harry a view of her shoes: plain, sensible blue pumps that matched her suit.
But she had nice ankles. Nice, thin, and not too bony. Just about perfect.
He stared at those perfect ankles as she stormed out of his office, her brown hair tossing around her head.
Peggy suddenly hovered at the doorway. “You got a call from Peters in New York while Ms. MacGregor was here. I didn’t want to disturb you and send it through.”
“Thanks,
