Scorned by the Boss / The Texan's Secret Past: Scorned by the Boss

Still, better not to offer those particular thoughts. “So it’s off.”

“That would be a yes,” she said, and clicked her mouse to open the word-processing program on her computer.

Apparently he’d been wrong. She had no more interest in talking about her ex than he had in listening to it. God knew that made his life easier. Yet, he couldn’t help wondering why she wasn’t eager to discuss it in detail.

In his experience, females liked nothing better than boring men into comas discussing their feelings, their needs, their desires, their complaints. Clearly, Caitlyn was an exception to that rule.

One eyebrow lifting, he watched as her small, efficient hands moved over the keyboard like a concert pianist’s. Smooth, fast, she was finished in moments and hitting the print button. As a fresh sheet of paper slid from the printer, she reached over, plucked it up and handed it to him.

“There. Crisis averted.”

He studied it briefly, nodded at the change made, then looked at her again. Whatever the reason behind the cancellation of her wedding, she seemed to be handling it well. For which he was grateful. He didn’t want a weeping woman hanging about the office. He wanted his life, his world to travel on in the same way it always had. Seamlessly.

“Thanks.”

She nodded, turned off the computer and gathered up her purse again. “If that’s all, I’m taking off.”

“Fine,” he said, stepping back, already headed back for his office. Then something occurred to him and he stopped on the threshold and looked at her. “Since you’re not getting married, after all, I’m assuming you’ll be available for the trip to Portugal.”

“What?”

Walking into his office, Jefferson kept talking, assuming—rightly—that she would be following after him. “We leave in three weeks. I want to check out the new cruise ship in person. I’ll need you there with me. And since your plans have changed, I see no reason why you shouldn’t be there.”

He sat behind his desk, set the new cover letter atop the official offer and leaned back in his chair as she approached. His gaze narrowed as he noticed the flash of fire in her eyes and the tight slash of her mouth.

“That’s it?” she said. “That’s all you’ve got to say.”

“About what?”

“About my not getting married.”

“What more should I say?”

“Oh,” she countered, “nothing at all.” But her tone clearly indicated she’d expected something more.

“If you’re looking for my condolences, fine. You have them.”

“Wow.” She slapped one hand to her chest and widened her eyes in feigned shock. “That was just so heartfelt, Jefferson. Wait just a minute while I catch my breath.”

“I beg your pardon?” Standing up now, he faced her and watched as thoughts, emotions churned across the surface of her eyes. In the years they had worked together Caitlyn had never become emotional. Sarcastic, yes. But she’d kept their relationship as businesslike as he had. Until just this moment.

“You’re not sorry at all. You’re just glad that I’ll be at your beck and call.”

“You’re always at my beck and call,” he pointed out, not sure exactly where the anger was coming from.

“Oh, for god’s sake. I am, aren’t I?” she asked, staring at him as though she’d never seen him before.

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Straightening up, he laid both hands atop his desk.

“You’re right,” she said. “That’s my job. And I’m good at it. Too good, probably, which is why this is so twisted and messed up now. But Peter was so wrong.”

“Peter? Who’s Peter?”

“My fiancé.” She shot him a withering glance. “My god, I was engaged to the man for six months and you didn’t even know his name.”

“Why would I know the damned man’s name?” Jefferson asked, shoving his hands into his slacks pockets. This conversation was taking a turn he didn’t care for.

“Because,” she pointed out, glaring at him, “in human cultures, it’s considered normal behavior to be interested in your fellow workers.”

He snorted. “You’re not a fellow worker,” he pointed out. “You’re my employee.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded. “And that’s it?”

“What more is there?”

“You know,” Caitlyn snapped, tugging at the purse strap hitched over her shoulder, “I really believe you actually mean that. You have no clue. None whatsoever.”

“About what?”

“If you don’t know, I couldn’t possibly explain it to you.”

“Aah, the last resort of the cornered female,” he said, shaking his head now. “I expected better of you, Caitlyn.”

“And I expected…” She stopped, blew out a hard breath that puffed her bangs up off her forehead so that he was treated to another peek at the dangerous sparks shooting in her eyes. “I don’t know why I expected anything different. So you know what? Never mind.”

“Excellent idea,” Jefferson said, grabbing the opportunity to end this discussion as quickly as possible. For whatever reason, his steady, dependable assistant had slipped off her mental track. “We’ll forget this conversation ever took place.”

“You will, too, won’t you?” Caitlyn tightened her grip on the strap of her purse, turned and headed for the door. “Well, I won’t be forgetting anytime soon, Jefferson.”

She was gone a moment later and he was left with irritation pulsing inside. He wasn’t accustomed to anyone walking out on him. And he didn’t like it.

Two

“Men suck.” Disgusted, Debbie Harris lifted her appletini high.

“Hear, hear!” Janine Shaker picked up her Cosmo and held it poised for a toast.

“Preaching to the choir,” Caitlyn said, and lifted her glass to clink against the rims of her friends’ glasses. Then she took a long sip of her raspberry martini and blew out a breath.

After the weekend she’d had, not to mention that last conversation with Jefferson, it was good to be with her friends. Women who understood. Women she could count on, no matter what.

“Are you okay, honey?” Debbie asked, always the one with the biggest heart and the soul most easily bruised. “I mean, really okay?”

“I’m fine,” Caitlyn said, and surprised herself with the truth of the statement. Good god. She’d been poised to marry Peter, for heaven’s sake. Shouldn’t she be in mourning? Shouldn’t she be weeping miserably in a corner somewhere?

Sure, she’d done some crying over the weekend, but if Peter really had been the love of her life, then wouldn’t she be feeling more…shattered? But she didn’t. And somehow that was even sadder than the breakup of her engagement.

“I cannot believe Peter thinks you’re in love with your boss,” Janine said on a snort of laughter. “Lyon makes you nuts.”