A Bride For The Boss. Maureen Child

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      Andi chuckled because she could imagine the woman trying to hunch into invisibility behind her desk. “Poor Laura. I really shouldn’t laugh, though, should I? I sort of left her holding the bag, so to speak, and now she’s having to put up with not only Mac’s demands but the fact that I’m not there to take the heat off.”

      “Laura’s tough. She can take it.” Vi picked up a fourth cookie and sighed a little as she bit in. “Or she won’t. Either way, her choice. And if she walks out, too? An even better lesson for Mac.”

      “You think?”

      “Absolutely,” his sister said, waving her cookie for emphasis before popping it into her mouth and talking around it while she chewed. “The man thinks he’s the center of the universe and all the rest of us are just moons orbiting him.

      “Maybe it really started when our parents died and he had to step up. You know, he’s only six years older than me, but he went from big brother to overbearing father figure in a finger snap.” She frowned a little, remembering. “We butted heads a lot, but in the end, Mac always found a way to win.”

      Andi knew most of this family history. Over the years, Mac had talked to her about the private plane crash that had claimed his parents and how he’d worked to make sure that Violet felt safe and secure despite the tragedy that had rocked their family. He’d done it, too. Violet was not only a successful, happy adult, she was married and about to become a mother.

      Maybe he had been overbearing—and knowing Mac, she really had no doubt of that—but he’d protected his sister, kept the family ranch and even managed to build on the business his parents had left behind until McCallum Enterprises was one of the biggest, most diversified companies in the country.

      In all fairness to him, Andi had to say, “Looks to me like he did a good job.”

      Violet shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, he did. But the thing is, he’s so used to people snapping to attention whenever he walks into a room, I think it’s good for him that you quit. That he’s finding out he can’t always win. It’ll be a growth moment for him.”

      But Andi knew that growth wasn’t always easy. She also knew she should feel bad about being glad that Mac would have a hard time without her.

      Apparently, though, she wasn’t that good a person.

      * * *

      She still wasn’t there.

      From the moment Mac walked into the office that morning, a part of him had fully expected to find Andi right where she belonged, at her desk. But she hadn’t been.

      Except for a few times when he’d had no other choice, Mac had spent most of the day ignoring Laura as she hunched behind her computer, pretending to be invisible. No doubt she’d been worried how the day would go without Andi there to take care of things.

      Well, hell, he had been, too.

      As it turned out, with reason.

      “This day just couldn’t get worse.”

      Mac left his office and fired a hard look at Laura. “I need the Franklin contracts. I tried to pull up the pdf and it’s not where it’s supposed to be. Bob Franklin just called, he’s got some questions and—” He noticed the wide-eyed expression on Laura’s face and told himself it was pointless to hammer at her.

      This was Andi’s territory. Turning, he stomped into the back of the building where Andi had stored hard copies of each of their in-progress deals in old-fashioned file cabinets. Of course, their records were mostly digitized and stored in the cloud, with several redundant backup sites so nothing could be lost. But there was something to say for holding a hard copy of a contract in your hands. It was immediate and more convenient, in his mind, than scrolling up and down a computer screen looking for a particular clause. Especially when you couldn’t find the damn digital copy.

      “And now I have to hunt down the stupid contract the hard way.” He yanked open the top file drawer and started flipping through the manila separators. He made it through the Fs and didn’t find the Franklin takeover.

      Shaking his head, he told himself that he was the damn boss. It wasn’t up to him to find a damn contract on a damn deal they’d done only three weeks ago. The problem was it was Andi’s job and she wasn’t here to do it.

      Laura was good at what she did and he had no doubt that in time she might grow to be even a third as good as Andi at the job. But for now, the woman was an office manager suddenly tossed into the deep end. There were a couple of part-time interns, too, but neither of them could find their way out of a paper bag without a flashlight and a map.

      “So bottom line?” he muttered, slamming the drawer and then opening another one. “I’m screwed.”

      Normally, this late in the afternoon, he and Andi were huddled around his desk, talking about the day’s work and what was coming up on the schedule. He really didn’t want to admit how much he missed just talking to her. Having her there to bounce ideas off of. To help him strategize upcoming jobs.

      “Plus, she would know exactly where the stupid contract is,” he muttered.

      Mac hated this. Hated having his life disrupted, his business interfered with—hell, his world set off balance. Worse, Andi had to have known this would happen when she walked out and, no doubt, she was sitting on a beach in Bimini right now, smiling at the thought of him trying to set things right again on his own.

      “Take a vacation. Who the hell has time for a vacation?” he asked the empty file room. “If you love what you do, work is vacation enough, isn’t it?” He slammed the second drawer shut and yanked the third open. What the hell kind of filing system was she using, anyway?

      “She loved her work, too,” he muttered. “Can’t tell me otherwise. In charge of every damn thing here, wasn’t she? Even setting up the damn filing system in some weird way that I can’t figure out now. If she thinks I’m going to let this damn office crumble to the ground then she’s got another damn think or two coming to her because damned if I will, damn it!”

      Temper spiking, he slammed the third drawer shut and then just stood there, hands on his hips, and did a slow turn, taking in the eight filing cabinets and the dust-free work table and chairs in the center of the room.

      “Why the hell is she on a beach when I need her help?”

      His brain dredged up a dreamlike image of Andi, lying back on some lounge, beneath a wide umbrella. She sipped at a frothy drink and behind huge sunglasses, her eyes smiled. Some cabana boy hovered nearby enjoying the view of Andi in a tiny yellow bikini that Mac’s mind assured him was filled out perfectly.

      Mac scowled and shut down that mental image because he sure as hell didn’t need it. “Why is she off enjoying herself when I’m here trying to figure out what she did?”

      But even as he complained, he knew it wasn’t the filing that bothered him. Given enough time, he’d find whatever he needed to find. It was being here. In the office. Without Andi.

      All day he’d felt slightly off balance. One step out of rhythm. It had started when he got there early as usual and didn’t smell coffee. Andi had always beat him to work and had the coffee going for both of them. Then she’d carry two cups into his office and they’d go over the day’s schedule

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