The Playboy's Office Romance. Karen Toller Whittenburg
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“They should have called the police.”
Lara knew that. But family ties ran deep, even when they were tangled beyond repair. “They called me.”
“And you called Adam.”
“He gets things done.”
A shadow skimmed his expression and was gone. “It’s a Braddock tradition. So you found Calvin.”
Lara went cold just thinking of her nephew’s life, remembering the little suitcase he’d been clutching like a lifeline when she and Adam had found him alone in a hotel room in Fresno. “He seems okay, happy enough, although I don’t know how he can be. I feel terrible for not stepping in and resolving this situation a long time ago.”
“Sometimes stepping in isn’t an option.”
Bryce’s thumb stroked the back of her hand in soothing circles and she realized she found the touch not only comforting, but somehow erotic. Great. Even her normal responses were all messed up this morning. She took back her hand. “Sorry, I don’t usually talk about my family.”
“I did ask.”
“You did, but that doesn’t mean I have to give you the ugly details.”
He shoved a hand into his hip pocket. “I thought you were explaining why you feel you have to resign, because Calvin needs a full-time mom for a change.”
The man was drawing all sorts of strange conclusions this morning. “I’m not his mother. This arrangement is temporary, just until my youngest sister gets her life squared away so she can take him back.” She shook her head for emphasis. “I’m the last person in the world who should be raising a child. My sisters haven’t made great choices for their lives, but they’re better at mothering than I am and Cal needs someone nurturing and maternal. That’s definitely not me. I’ve already hired a nanny to stay with him while I’m at work.”
“So you’re resigning because you’ve already accepted another job offer?”
“No, Bryce. I’m resigning because I can’t work with you.”
He looked surprised. “How do you know? You’ve never done it before.”
“I don’t have to bang my head against a rock wall to know it would give me a headache.”
“If you keep this up, you’re going to hurt my feelings,” he said, the teasing note returning to his voice, the sparkle of fun coming back into his eyes. At moments like this, Lara knew why women fell hard and fast for him.
Fortunately, she wasn’t so easily impressed. “It takes a tough guy to be the top dog around here.”
“Is that a fact? I thought all it took was the right office and a tough-as-nails assistant.” He paused. “Come on, Lara. Tell me what it’s going to take to get you to stay.”
She was puzzled by his persistence and, against her better judgment, flattered that he was working so hard to win her over. It was a ploy, just a way of gaining her trust long enough to set her up for a fall. Or maybe he wasn’t as dumb as she thought. Maybe he was afraid he couldn’t do this without her. Which, of course, he couldn’t. “I’ll stay,” she said, calculating the request he couldn’t possibly grant. “Providing I get a substantial increase in salary, a guaranteed bonus and—” She paused, then delivered the coup de grâce, “—you make me a senior VP.”
“Done,” he said without a blink.
“You can’t do that.”
“I just did.”
“No, you can’t just randomly award titles. The board makes those decisions.”
“They’ll endorse my decision.” His smile softened. “Adam isn’t the only Braddock who can get things done.”
“But…”
He extended his hand, clearly expecting her to accept the deal she’d put on the table.
Stalemate. She either had to back down or shake his hand. With an unexpected rush of relief and excitement, she put her hand in his and gave it a firm clasp. “I will not under any circumstances call you Boss.”
“And I will not call you Sweetcheeks.”
She let go of his hand abruptly. “This will never work.”
“Well, all right, I’ll call you Sweetcheeks, but I think the junior VPs will be jealous.”
How she could have let him manipulate her into staying, playing to her sympathy just so he could taunt her by sitting in Adam’s chair, behind Adam’s desk, taking over Adam’s office. “Forget it,” she said. “I can’t work with you.”
“Lighten up, Lara,” he said, his voice getting a bit testy to match hers. “You’ve been hanging around my starched shirt of a brother too long. You’ll find I have a more laid-back style of management.”
“Management, ha! You won’t last out the week.”
“Watch me.”
“Brave words for a man who hasn’t got a clue what this company is about.”
“You’ve always underestimated me, Sweetcheeks.”
“Don’t ever call me that again!”
“Aunt Lara?”
She whirled to see Calvin standing hesitantly in the hallway, shifting his slight weight uneasily from foot to foot. “Calvin,” she said, apology in her voice, regret that he’d heard her speaking so sharply to Bryce, to anyone.
“Are you mad?” he asked.
Lara was conscious of the tremor in his voice, the insecurity in the way his arms were tucked across his chest. He’d heard too many mad voices in his short life already. “No, Sweetie,” she said soothing him with a smile. “We were just talking about, uh, hurt feelings.”
Calvin considered the matter, then his smile beamed out, including them both. “If a feeling’s hurt, you should kiss it and make it all better.”
“Now there’s a good idea,” Bryce agreed, his smile returning as if the tension of a moment ago had never been. “In my experience, kissing makes everything better.”
Calvin nodded. “Kiss him, Aunt Lara, and then you and him come and watch me spin.”
Bryce’s eyes were alight with mischief when her gaze nailed him.
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned beneath a falsely bright smile.
His answering smile was almost irresistible. “I was only thinking,” he said as if it were true, “that kids say the darndest things.”
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