hesitated for the briefest moment. “Yes.”
He was out of patience. Sitting forward, Morgan punched another button on his market monitor. The market was open. Trading had begun. “If you take the job, I’ll expect two weeks’ notice.”
Winnie looked away, stared past his shoulder to the wall of windows behind him. There was no emotion in her face. She looked like the serene, capable assistant he’d always known. “How did you find out about my job interview?”
His stomach felt hard, tight. He hated conflict. Hated feeling mistrustful. Charlotte had done a number on him, and while it’d been fifteen years since she betrayed him, some things were impossible to forget.
But Morgan didn’t let any of his emotion show. He’d learned years ago to keep his personal life private. “Mr. Osborne’s office called on Monday doing a reference check. I spoke with Mr. Osborne personally.”
Winnie’s head lifted, and her gaze met his, eyes large and worried behind the heavy glasses. “What did you say?”
He felt his lips twist into a ghost of a smile. “That you were the best damn secretary I’d ever had.”
“Morgan, we’re worried about you. Reed’s worried about you.” Rose Grady’s precise diction was even more vigorous than usual. “Every time we turn on the television, you’re there. We can’t pick up a magazine without a story about you.”
Morgan finished pulling his T-shirt over his head, having stripped off his suit and changed into jeans and a T-shirt now that he was home.
“You’re sick of my press?” he teased, shifting the phone from one ear to the other as he headed for the kitchen.
“That’s not what I mean,” Rose retorted indignantly and Morgan could picture the elegant arch of her eyebrows rising higher. “We know how hard you’ve worked at putting the past behind you, but now these reporters are digging into everything. And I do mean, everything.”
Morgan popped open the mineral water and took a long cool drink. “It’s going to be all right,” he said, wanting to believe his own optimism as he leaned against a stainless-steel counter, his kitchen huge and modern, big enough to accommodate a fleet of chefs. “The reporters will hound someone else soon. People get bored and move on.”
“That’s not all, Morgan. There’s something else, and I’m not sure how to tell you, or even if I should tell you, but I don’t want you to hear this from anyone else.”
“Then tell me.”
Silence stretched across the line. “I saw Charlotte.”
Morgan froze. “What?”
“Charlotte came to the house.”
It felt as if he’d been slammed on the chest with a shovel. He couldn’t catch his breath. “Alone?”
“Yes.”
He set the water down so forcefully the bottle rattled on the counter. “What did she want?”
“To hear about you. To know what you’ve been doing all these years.”
Charlotte. Charlotte. “What did you tell her?”
Rose sighed impatiently. “I said, read the papers. Turn on the evening news. Morgan’s life is everywhere.”
He nearly smiled. Trust Rose to give an answer like that.
“She says, she made a mistake,” Rose continued more faintly, as if delivering this information caused her great pain. “She indicated she wanted to make amends.”
“It’s been fifteen years.”
“You once wanted this.”
“Fifteen years ago.”
“Five years ago,” Rose rebutted.
Morgan shook his head slowly, angrily, not understanding why this had to happen now when he had so much pressure on him, when he had so many people depending on him. “How did she look?”
“Even more beautiful. She’s certainly matured well. She’s a classic beauty. What do you expect?”
His chest tightened. He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to hear this, didn’t want to know this. “I don’t want to talk to her.”
“Fine.”
“And I don’t want to see her.”
“Then don’t.”
But even as he said the words, he was laughing at himself. Who was he kidding? Even fifteen years after she disappeared from his life he still wasn’t over her.
“Rose…Mom..” Morgan pressed a clenched fist to his forehead, battling fears that very few knew about. “What do I do? How do I get out of this?”
“First of all, forget Charlotte, she’s inconsequential,” Rose said crisply, comfortable taking charge again. “And second, get rid of the press!”
“How?”
“Morgan, you’re smart. Throw them a bone. Give the media a story…and I don’t mean Charlotte!”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
