Eclipse of the Heart (5 page)

He stood. "That's the bellman."

"I could manage my own luggage."

"I'm moving." He strode past her, just one inch
closer to her than he would have ventured if he didn't want to inhale a whiff
of her scent. He'd noticed it first in the airplane. Even though they'd sat
across the aisle from each other in the small jet, whenever she moved, a faint
breath of her perfume would tease him.
Honey and cinnamon.
Just like her hair and her warm brown eyes.

She frowned as she stood. "That's silly. I don't need
this whole suite."

"I want you to have it." He opened the door and
ushered in the bellman. "If you send me your resume," he said
casually, "I'll look it over tonight. We can talk in the morning."

Silently, she pulled a folder out of her briefcase and
handed it to him.

"I'll be up early," she said.

"Thanks." He let his fingers brush hers as he took
the folder. Her eyes flew to his face, but he made sure she wouldn't see
anything there. He'd need a lot of subtlety to reel her in.

In the morning, Amanda woke before dawn. She checked her
phone. 6 a.m.

She had a text from Logan.

Changed my plans.
Left for
London.

She scrolled down for the rest of the message.

Nothing.
The jerk! She flung
herself out of bed. What about her job? She needed that job! Her whole life
depended on that job.

The mixture of dread and anticipation that had kept her up
half the night was spiked now with anger. How dare he leave her hanging like
this?

She stormed into the bathroom, twisted on the shower and let
the water pummel her. When she emerged, she checked her phone again.
Against her own wishes.
She was not about to let that smug,
overly confident male become the center of her existence. Furthermore, how was
she supposed to pay for this lavish suite?

But when she'd gotten
herself
dressed, packed, and down to the front desk, she discovered that the bill had
been settled and a plane ticket back to New York had been left for her. The news
only made her angrier. Her anger must have shown on her face.

"Is everything all right?" the desk clerk asked.
"Mr. Winter thought he had handled everything."

"Yes," she snapped. "Everything is
fine."
Except she didn't want him to handle everything.
She was perfectly able to run her own life. In fact, she was done with him and
his arrogance and his stupid fake job.

"Your car is waiting outside," the clerk said,
nodding toward the revolving door.

"Thank you," she managed, though she feared her
teeth might be grinding together. She grabbed her overnight bag and headed for
the door.

She had a long ride to O'Hare to seethe. Until she finally
got tired of her own ill-temper and faced the facts.

She'd been looking forward to seeing Logan this morning. As
much as she hated to admit it, she was disappointed that he clearly didn't feel
the same desire to see her. That disappointment was fueling her anger.

She had to accept that he didn't owe her an explanation of
his plans. But he could have let her know whether or not she had the job.
Apparently, he wasn't as thoughtful as he'd almost convinced her he was
yesterday.

That thought brought her to a new worry. She'd have to call
her mother and tell her what happened. As painful as the news would be, her
mother had to know before she quit her own job.

On that thought, she fished her phone out of her purse and
dialed.

Her heart clenched when her mother answered immediately, her
voice a shade lighter than it had been in months.

"How's the new job, dear? I can't tell you how happy I
was to be able to quit yesterday."

"You already quit?" Amanda heard the fear in her
own voice.

"Yup," her mom chirped. "I started looking
online right away to find someplace where I could live in Denver…" Her
voice trailed off. "Is something wrong, Amanda?"

The job fell through. He wanted my
body, not my mind.
No, that wasn't true. He probably would have used her
for the night and then tossed her out without a job, either. So she wasn't any
worse off than she had been. She sighed. None of those words could be said to
her mother.

"Mom…" She didn't need to say more.

"What happened? Are you all right?" The note of
anxiety was back in her mother's voice.

Amanda slumped in her seat. "The job fell
through."

"Oh, dear," her mother said, her voice wavering
for a minute. Then she took a deep breath – Amanda could hear it clearly – and
said, "Don't worry, dear. We'll figure something else out."

Amanda almost broke down in the cab. Her mother had been so
thrilled with the news of Amanda's new job and the insurance benefit.

"I just couldn't do it, Mom. There had been a
mistake."

"What kind of a mistake?" That was the voice of a
mother who'd run into any breach to save her child.

"He mixed me up with another candidate."

"What happened to the job you thought you were
getting?"

"I…I'm not sure, Mom." She couldn't lie to her
mother. It just wasn't possible.

"
Amandaaaaa
."
She dragged out her name in the way
that always said,
I'm waiting
.

"Apparently, he had two openings. One was the position
I thought I was interviewing for. The other was for a…a playmate."

"Playmate?
Is he two?"

Perversely, Amanda wanted to jump to his defense. "No,
he's a grown man, mom."

"So what happened to the other job?"

"I'm not sure yet. I might still be able to get
it."

"I don't want you accepting any job from him,
Amanda," her mother stated. "He doesn't sound like a respectable
man."

"Oh, mom."
She sighed
again as the car approached the airport. With her mom out of work now, Amanda's
options were limited. Someone had to bring in a salary and benefits. Her mom
had been working part-time at a medical office, until the entire focus of her
life had shifted to helping Julie beat her medical diagnosis. Her mother had
been determined to travel to Denver, where Julie was going to complete a six
month course of treatment at the National Jewish Hospital for her lung disease.

Someone had to be with Julie, to deal with the doctors and
all the medical issues. Even more importantly, someone needed to be there to
provide company and comfort.

Amanda hefted her bag as she exited the car. It suddenly
felt very heavy.
Because she had to face the facts.
She had no choice but to try to get Logan's job on whatever terms he dictated.

Logan strode into the office building with an excitement he
hadn't felt in a long time. He had a war to wage.
A pleasant
war, but one which would require his best strategic thinking and canniest
tactics.
Though he didn't doubt the outcome, he was fairly certain that
Amanda Thompson would give him a good fight.

He noticed his first problem as soon as he entered the outer
office of his suite. The strangely dressed temp who'd made the original mistake
with Amanda's interview was still sitting at his assistant's desk.

"What are you doing here," he asked. "Where's
Ms. Lockwood?" His regular assistant was supposed to return the Monday
after he left for London more than a week ago.

"Good morning," the girl chirped. "Bridget is
still out."

"What the hell—
Why
?" The
thought of all the problems that would have developed in the absence of both
Ms. Lockwood and
himself
was enough to halt him in his
tracks.

"I think she's still in the hospital." The
woman—what the hell was her name—wriggled in her seat like a two-year-old.

"You
think
?" He
clamped his teeth together to prevent the words he wanted to say from escaping.
He hired people who
knew
what they were supposed
to know. "Why wasn't I notified?"

A frown of anxiety appeared on her round face. "You
were in London."

He plucked his Blackberry out of its holder. "You see
this? It communicates all over the world. That's why I have it."

"I know that, sir." She looked down at the desk,
and even her two ponytails looked more dejected than they had when he walked
in. "But what would be the point of telling you she wasn't here when you
weren't here either?"

"Heaven help me," he muttered. "Look."
He leaned over the desk. "I need to know everything that happens in this
office and in this company. Do you understand?"

She nodded, her big blue eyes fastened on his face as if she
were afraid he'd bite if she broke the connection.

"Pick up a pen," he ordered.
"Start
writing."

He straightened up from her desk and strode toward the
window. "Call the hospital and find out what's happening with Ms.
Lockwood. I want to know where she is, what her condition is, and when she'll
be back."

He stopped at the window and thrust his hands in his pockets
as he looked out. Central Park greeted him, dark and bare in its winter
nakedness. He could see cars like little ants scurrying along the curved roads.

"Send a large floral arrangement to her wherever she
is," he said, still looking out the window. "Next, tell me what's
happened with Ms. Thompson." He turned suddenly, spearing the assistant
with a glare.
"Unless you have a message from her?"

Biting her bottom lip, she shook her head.

"You did send her the job offer I forwarded to Ms.
Lockwood?"
 
Damnit.
He relied totally on Ms. Lockwood. If he told her to do something, he assumed
it was done. Of course, he hadn't heard from her at all, now that he thought
about it. He'd been so busy getting the deal wrapped up with
QDT
.

"
Ummm
…" The assistant
began rifling through some papers on her desk. "Yes, I'm sure I did."

A feeling of doom settled over Logan. Guilt, guilt and more
guilt was plastered across the woman's face. "I sent it via email,"
he said. "Can you show me the forwarded message?"

She hit a bunch of numbers on the keyboard, but even he
could see the randomness of her efforts.

He leaned over the desk to read the monitor. A long list of
unread messages greeted him.

"What are you doing?" She put a hand up as if to
hide the monitor.

"You can't read? What the hell are you doing working in
an office?"

"I can read," she said.
"Just
not when I'm nervous."

He saw his message about Amanda.
Unread.
Unforwarded
.
Amanda had been waiting to hear from him for more than a
week.

Fury blazed through him.

"I
make
people
nervous!" he roared, slamming his hand on the desk. "You can't work
for me if being nervous prevents you from performing your job."

She lifted her chin. "That's nothing to be proud
of." Her words were defiant, but her voice trembled.

"You've made a serious mistake," he yelled.
"I want you to forward this message while I watch. Ask the recipient to be
here tomorrow at 10 a.m. to meet with me."

She lifted a shaking hand.

Logan grabbed hold of his temper. What was wrong with him?
He never yelled at people.
Partly because he didn't have to.
Partly because he didn't think it was right to yell at someone who was
dependent on him for her living. The power imbalance shouldn't be abused.

All he could think of right now was Amanda and her big brown
eyes, brimming with anxiety as she talked about her need for insurance. Damn.
He didn't want to worry about her sister. He'd given up those kinds of emotions
a long time ago.

"I'm sorry," he said curtly. He leaned over her
desk and began typing on her keyboard. He hit send.

Then he straightened up and regarded his hapless assistant.
"Look, I need someone I can depend on. I'm sure there's another job in the
company more suited to your talents."

Whatever they were.
He looked over
her costume of the day. The two ponytails dangling over her ears looked kind of
girlish. But heavy metal jewelry dangled from her earlobes and wrapped around
her neck in a way that looked like she'd dressed this morning in a junkyard. He
couldn't imagine why HR had hired her in the first place, never mind sent her
to his office.

She looked up at him through heavily made up eyes and curly
bangs. "They don't want me in other departments," she said sadly.
"I'm too different."

"Perhaps the corporate world is not the best milieu for
you." He waved a hand vaguely at her to indicate her attire.

"It's not." She heaved up a big sigh. "But I
need an income."

"This can't be your dream job."

"Of course not!"
She
looked shocked at the mere suggestion. "I'm a fashion designer."

"Ah." He didn't even know what to say.  Would
people pay good money to look like she did?

"Perhaps this isn't your taste." She waved at the junk.
"But I have to be noticeable."

"You are that," he admitted.

"I thought you would understand! Bridget said you were
nice under your tough guy exterior."

Logan barely suppressed his surprise. Ms. Lockwood had said
that? He couldn't imagine where she'd gotten such an idea.

Even she wouldn't know what to with this child who looked
and sounded like a rebellious teenager. How could he? He bore down hard on the
memory of his sister. He didn't walk down memory lane.
Ever.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I need both competence
and a certain dignity fronting my office."