When they broke up, he would be the object of the same gossip that had nearly ruined his reputation when his marriage ended.
He took a breath and blew it out on a puff. He couldn’t tell if distance was giving him perspective or calling up all his demons. But he did know that he should have thought this through before making love to her.
Worse, he couldn’t properly analyze their situation because he couldn’t recall specifics. All he remembered from their Sunday night and Monday morning together were emotions so intense that he’d found the courage to simply be himself. But with the emotions gone, he couldn’t summon a solid memory of the substance of what had happened between them. He couldn’t remember anything specific she’d said to make him like her—like? Did he say like? He didn’t just like Grace. That Sunday night his feelings had run more along the lines of a breathless longing, uncontrollable desire, and total bewitching. A man in that condition could easily be seduced into seeing traits in a woman that weren’t there and that meant he had made a horrible mistake.
He told himself not to think that way. But the logical side of his brain called him a sap. He’d met Grace two weeks before when she’d come to work for his company, but he didn’t really know her because he didn’t work with new employees. He worked with their bosses. He said hello to new employees in the hall. But otherwise, he ignored them. So he hadn’t “known” her for two weeks. He’d glimpsed her.
Plus, she’d been on her best behavior for Orlando. She had been at the beach house to demonstrate to Orlando that Carson Services employed people in the know. Yes, she’d gone above and beyond the call of duty in her time with Orlando, making him feel comfortable, sharing personal insights—but, really, wasn’t that her job?
Danny took a long breath. Had he fallen in love with a well polished persona she’d pulled out to impress Orlando and simply never disengaged when the basketball star left?
Oh Lord!
He sat, rubbed his hands down his face and held back a groan. Bits and pieces of their Sunday night dinner conversation flitted through his brain. She’d grown up poor. Could only afford a house that needed remodeling. She wanted to be rich. She’d gone into investing to understand money.
He had money.
Technically he was a shortcut to all her goals.
He swallowed hard. It wasn’t fair to judge her when she wasn’t there to defend herself.
He had to see her. Then he would know. After five minutes of conversation she would either relieve all his fears or prove that he’d gone too fast, told her too much and set himself up for a huge disappointment.
The second his plane taxied to a stop, he pulled out his cell phone and called her, but she didn’t answer. He left a message but she didn’t return his call and Danny’s apprehensions hitched a notch. Not that he thought she should be home, waiting for him, but she knew when he got in. He’d told her he would call. He’d said it at the end of a very emotional phone conversation in which he’d told her that crazy as it sounded, he missed her. She’d breathlessly told him she missed him, too.
Now she wasn’t home?
If he hadn’t given her the time he would be landing, if he hadn’t told her he would be calling, if he hadn’t been so sappy about saying how much he missed her, it wouldn’t seem so strange that she wasn’t home. But, having told her all those things, he had the uncontrollable suspicion that something was wrong.
Unless she’d come to the same conclusions he had. Starting a relationship had been a mistake.
That had to be it.
Relief swamped him. He didn’t want another relationship. Ever. And Grace was too nice a girl to have the kind of fling that ended when their sexual feelings for each other fizzled and they both eagerly walked away.
It was better for it to end now.
Content that not only had Grace nicely disengaged their relationship, but also that he probably wouldn’t run into her in the halls because their positions in the company and the building were so far apart, he went to work happy. But his secretary buzzed him around ten-thirty, telling him Grace was in the outer office, asking if he had time for her.
Sure. Why not? Now that he’d settled everything in his head, he could handle a debriefing. They’d probably both laugh about the mistake.
He tossed his pencil to the stack of papers in front of him. “Send her in.”
He steeled himself, knowing that even though his brain had easily resolved their situation, his body might not so easily agree. Seeing her would undoubtedly evoke lots of physical response, if only because she was beautiful. He remembered that part very, very well.
His office door opened and she stepped inside. Danny almost groaned at his loss. She was every bit as stunning as he remembered. Her dark hair framed her face and complemented her skin tone. Her little pink suit showed off her great legs. But he wasn’t meant for relationships and she wasn’t meant for affairs. Getting out now while they could get out without too much difficulty was the right thing to do.
“Good morning, Grace.”
She smiled. “Good morning.”
He pointed at the chair in front of his desk, indicating she should sit. “Look, I know what you’re going to say. Being away for a week gave me some perspective, too, and I agree we made a mistake the night we slept together.”
“What?”
Confused, he cocked his head. “I thought you were here to tell me we’d made a mistake.”
Holding the arms of the captain’s chair in front of his desk, she finally sat. “I came in to invite you to dinner.”
He sat back on his chair, knowing this could potentially be one of the worst conversations of his life. “I’m sorry. When you weren’t home last night when I called, I just assumed you’d changed your mind.”
“I was at my mother’s.”
“I called your cell phone.”
She took a breath. “And by the time I realized I’d hadn’t turned it on after I took it off the charger, it was too late for me to call you back.” She took another breath and smiled hopefully. “That’s why I came to your office.”
He picked up his pencil again. Nervously tapped it on the desk. “I’m sorry. Really. But—” This time he took the breath, giving himself a chance to organize his thoughts. “I genuinely believe we shouldn’t have slept together, and I really don’t want to see you anymore. I don’t have relationships with employees.”
He caught her gaze. “I’m sorry.”
That seemed to catch her off guard. She blinked several times, but her face didn’t crumble as he expected it would if she were about to cry. To his great relief, her chin lifted. “That’s fine.”
Pleased that she seemed to be taking this well—probably because his point was a valid one—bosses and employees shouldn’t date—he rose. “Do you want the day off or something?”
She swallowed and wouldn’t meet his gaze. She said, “I’m fine,” then turned and walked out of his office.
