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“I am not your secretary, Mr. McBride.”
“I know that. I only meant... You’re in a very contrary frame of mind lately, Emily.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, I do. And, as you’ve just pointed out, I’m your boss and you’re my employee. If I say you’re contrary, you’re contrary.”
She smiled politely. “Whatever you say, sir.”
“Dammit, this is ridiculous. Calling me ‘sir,’ and ‘Mr.’ I’ve got a good mind to—”
The door squeaked open. “Jake?”
Jake froze. He looked up, past Emily, and groaned.
“Brandi,” he said tonelessly, and took a couple of steps back.
Brandi slipped into the office and put her arms around his neck. “Jake,” she whispered, “have you been trying to avoid me?”
Did flies avoid flypaper?
Jake reached up, grasped her wrists and drew them to her sides. “What are you doing here, Brandi?”
“I came to see you. To ask why you’ve been ignoring my calls.”
She smiled up at him, or pouted. One or the other. It was hard for him to tell. She had what she called bee-stung lips, Collagen stung, was more like it. Whatever, Jake wanted no part of her lips or her.
“Brandi,” he said kindly, “I’ve already explained that what you and I had is—”
“Don’t say it! It isn’t. It can’t be.”
“Brandi. . .”
“I reserved a corner table at Alfredo’s. We can have a nice quiet dinner and talk things over.”
“No,” Jake said firmly. “I’m sorry, Brandi, but there’s no point in that.”
“Of course there is.”
“There isn’t.”
“There is.”
“Well,” Emily said brightly, “it’s getting late, Mr. McBride. And you know what you said about the cold. So, if you don’t mind—”
“You’re right,” Jake said quickly. “It is getting late.”
“Exactly. Which is why I’m just going to—”
“Wait right there, Emily. Don’t move a muscle.”
Jake hurried into his office. The women’s eyes met. Emily’s lips turned up in a faint smile. Brandi’s turned down, or would have, if she’d been able to move them. Enough, Emily thought, and reached for the door...
“I’m ready,” Jake said.
She turned and looked at Jake. He’d put on his jacket, his coat and gloves. Smiling, he reached for her hand. She pulled it back. He trapped it with his leather-gloved fingers, wound them through hers.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
“We have to leave now or we’ll be late.” He smiled, but his eyes flashed a warning. “You know how Donovan is about people being late.”
“Who?”
“Donovan. The chairman.”
“What chairman? Jake, what—”
He bent his head, silenced Emily by brushing his mouth gently over hers. Then he looked at Brandi, who was staring at him with a stricken expression on her perfectly made-up face. Two perfect tears rose in her eyes and trickled artistically down her cheeks.
“You and this—this creature? You don’t mean it.”
“Ah,” Jake said, and smiled at Emily. “But I do.”
Emily would have protested but how could she? Jake had already drawn her into his arms so he could kiss her, just the way he had the last time, until she felt her toes curl inside the too-tight boots.
CHAPTER FOUR
WHO would show up at a party in snowy Manhattan on a frigid January night?
Everybody who’d been invited, or so it seemed.
Emily had expected to see ten or twenty lost souls with nothing better to do than attend the UBS celebration. But when the elevator doors slid open to the Sunset Room on the fortieth floor of the Ascot Towers, she could see that even the corridor was alive with people.
Famous people. People whose faces lit up TV and movie screens from coast to coast...
People dressed for the occasion.
Emily touched an uneasy hand to her dampness-frizzed hair, glanced down at her sensible coat and equally sensible boots, and blanched.
“Uh-oh,” she whispered.
Jake, who figured the “uh oh” was an exclamation of delight, put his hand lightly in the small of her back and moved her forward.
“See?” he said softly. “Aren’t you glad you let me talk you into coming?”
No, she wasn’t. She was as out of place here as she’d been at that long-ago high school prom, where she’d showed up in a full-skirted, pale blue satin gown with puffy sleeves and a bow when every other girl in the room had been wearing clingy, slinky black silk.
