Marrying the Boss. Megan Kelly

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Marrying the Boss - Megan Kelly Mills & Boon Love Inspired

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it would have been wise to chat up some of CoCo’s administration during lunch, she had two demanding “jobs” and couldn’t take the time. She had to preserve the job that paid. “Maybe the Hunan chicken.”

      “Then I’ll get the Mongolian beef. We can share.”

      The simple suggestion shouldn’t have bothered her, but the idea of sharing anything with Mark made her frown. The waitress appeared and took their orders.

      “You want just plates?” the waitress asked. “Or I bring it family-style? You serve selves. Take what want.”

      Mark frowned. “We’ll have it…We’ll serve ourselves.”

      The little woman jerked her head up and down several times and left.

      He couldn’t even say “family-style.” Leanne swallowed. What a disaster. She couldn’t be a casual friend with this man. He represented all the pain from her childhood, and he obviously had issues of his own regarding her.

      “So,” Mark said, “how’s it going at Collins?”

      She shrugged.

      “I’m not trying to find out what you’re doing.” He glanced at the fish tank, drawing her eye to it also. Goldfish darted through the green plastic fronds, scattering the striped yellow and black fish. The blue-and-orange clown fish floated along, seeming not to notice the crazy flashes of gold. “Perhaps we should discuss something other than work.”

      “What would that be? Our upbringings?” She bit her lip. “Mark, face it. We don’t have anything to talk about.”

      “I disagree. I’m very interested in your upbringing, especially since I didn’t know anything about you until a month ago. When you say I’ve had thirty years to get to know you, you’re mistaken.”

      “What do you know about me already?” She knew he’d had her investigated. She remembered the conversation she’d heard between him and Gloria the day she’d gone to CoCo to refuse the challenge. Their harsh words and indictment of her mother had changed her mind about competing.

      A decision she’d made rashly and had regretted ever since.

      “I know you’re a professor in business at the University of Illinois at Chicago. I know you’re single and have an apartment at the end of Rush Street.” He smiled. “An interesting location, but I don’t know what to make of it.”

      “It came available five years ago. Being in the midst of all the bars and fun appealed to me then.”

      The waitress set their soup in front of them. “Crab Rangoon out in minute.” She hastened away.

      “And now?” Mark asked.

      She tasted her soup. “It’s far enough away from UIC I feel like I’ve left work, but it’s convenient to the El, making transportation easy. I’m ten floors up, so the noise doesn’t keep me awake at night, and it’s a well-policed neighborhood.”

      “I’ll bet.”

      She grinned. “You didn’t party in college?”

      “Sure, I did.”

      She smiled to herself as she finished her soup, unable to picture him at a fraternity toga party. He struck her as so serious. “I’d like to move to a house one day. Right now, there’s no need. What about you? Where do you live?”

      “I have a place at Jennings.”

      “Jennings Towers? The new condos?” Leanne whistled. “I’ve heard they have a lot of square footage for a location in the city.” Pricey, too. But then, he could afford it. Another difference in their upbringings.

      Mark finished his soup and set his bowl to the side with hers. As though this had been a prearranged signal, the waitress plunked down two small plates, a serving platter of crab Rangoon and a bowl of red sauce, then whisked their bowls away.

      “I could use her at Collins,” Mark said, staring after the woman as she made a speedy crossing of the room. “She could help Mrs. Pickett.”

      Leanne bit into the crisp fried appetizer and almost moaned. Filled with cream cheese and spices, it contained chunks of genuine crabmeat. Her lids dropped as she took another bite. “This is delicious.”

      Mark’s eyes darkened to a deep rich brown. “I can tell.”

      “How? You haven’t had any yet.”

      He shifted in his seat. “That’s okay. I’ll just watch you eat yours.”

      Leanne set the last tidbit on her plate. She cleared her throat, feeling heat wash over her face. “I enjoy good food.”

      “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” His white teeth gleamed in his smile. Her heart stuttered.

      He’s your nephew. The cold, mean voice in her head had her looking away. Remind him of your relationship, she thought. Remind yourself. “What was it like growing up a Collins?”

      His smile disappeared. He glanced over her shoulder, but the little waitress didn’t come running with their entrees. “Normal, I guess.”

      “I don’t know anything about your father, even though he’s my half-brother. Are you like him or more like Gloria?”

      “My father, I guess. I was raised to head up Collins, so I’m more business-minded than my mother.”

      Leanne hunched her shoulders. Again she felt the pangs of how unfair this competition was to Mark.

      “Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable,” he said, “but it’s a fact.”

      Her expression must have given away her thoughts. She’d have to watch that in the business world. If she had the chance to worry about it.

      The waitress brought their food, and they portioned out their servings without talking. The red peppers in the Hunan chicken burned her throat and had her reaching for water.

      “What will you do when I win?” she asked.

      Mark drew back, blinked, and then laughed. “You mean after rushing my mother to the E.R.?”

      Leanne smiled. “Gloria will have a fit.”

      He shook his head. “Gloria will have a heart attack.” He raised his teacup. “Here’s to a fair fight.”

      She raised her cup and extended it toward his.

      “May the best man win,” he said.

      Clink. The forward motion tapped her cup against his as his words registered.

      “Hey!” She snatched back her hand.

      Mark chuckled, and she couldn’t help joining him.

      “You’re a sneak.”

      “I’m a Collins.”

      She absorbed that for

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