Seduction on the CEO's Terms (14 page)

She slapped his face.

Joe grabbed her hand and stared at her. Through tight lips, his voice cold and hard, he looked deep into her eyes. “I never wanted to believe it of you, Ali. But it's all clear now. Your clothes, your personality, you changed it all to
fool me. Hell, you even changed your bedroom habits. Your mother taught you well.”

He dismissed her, just like that. He grabbed his clothes, slipping into his pants quickly, and walked out of her bedroom without a second glance.

She jumped when she heard the front door slam. And burst into tears for the second time tonight.

 

Tumultuous emotions roiled in Joe's gut. He walked at a fast pace, trying to burn off some of his anger and despair. He'd sent the limo home, thinking he'd be with Ali until the morning. So now he found himself furious, barefoot and half dressed walking down the highway toward home.

It had been on the tip of his tongue to tell Ali he was in love with her. That would have made her charade complete, he thought with disgust.

She'd already made a colossal fool of him.

Yes, he'd noticed changes in her, but who could figure a woman's mind? Joe thought Ali had been a little more contemplative lately due to the newness of her surroundings. Maybe she'd felt out of her element and needed time to acclimate to California living. She had few friends here, and all that combined could have an effect on a woman.

But Ali hadn't felt any of those things. No, she'd simply had one goal in mind—to trick him into a relationship.

She was just like her mother.

Joe had read accounts of how Justine Holcomb left her first husband for a wealthy oilman. Then a few years later, she'd become a caregiver for an ailing supermarket mogul and had divorced husband number two and moved on to husband number three. She had ties to famous male actors, real estate tycoons and clothing designers. More husbands, more boyfriends, the list went on and on. No wonder Ali
never wanted to talk about her family. Speaking of it would have tipped her hand.

After Joe's fury subsided a little, he pressed Nick's number on his iPhone. The phone rang several times. “I hope I'm interrupting,” Joe grumbled after his brother finally answered.

“What?” Nick sounded flustered. “Joe, is that you? Do you know what time it is? Like two in the morning.”

“Early for you. I need a ride.”

“Now? What the hell. Can't you call—”

“No, I'm in no mood to explain myself. Just pick me up. And don't keep me waiting.” Joe gave him the location and plopped himself down by the side of the road.

Ten minutes later, Nick showed up in his red Ferrari, and Joe got in. “You look like crap, man. Have a fight with Ali?”

“More than a fight. Just take me home, Nick, and don't ask any questions.”

Nick cast him a concerned look and didn't offer up any snarky remarks, for which Joe was grateful.

When he got home, he emptied half a bottle of Scotch, drank himself into oblivion, replaying his argument with Ali in his head until he couldn't think anymore. He fell into bed and slept off the effects of the alcohol.

In the morning, he frowned at the clock by his bedside when he saw the time. He'd slept past noon and rose with a splitting headache. Apparently, he hadn't slept off all the liquor he'd consumed. He felt like hell.

He lumbered downstairs for a cup of coffee and found
both
brothers sitting in the kitchen. Tony was here? And Rena, too? They all gazed at him with sympathetic eyes.

He whipped around abruptly to walk away. The quick movement brought pain to his skull. He rubbed his head.

“Sit down, Joe,” Nick called to him.

“I'm bad company today,” he muttered.

“I'll get you a cup of coffee,” Rena said, her voice hopeful.

He turned, and she sent him a sweet look. He could easily blow off his brothers, but his sister-in-law deserved better treatment. “Thanks.”

Rena was already up and pouring his coffee. She brought it to him and gestured for him to take a seat at the table. He hesitated a second, then sank down in the seat. He directed his attention to Tony. “What are you doing here?”

“It was my idea to come over,” Rena said. “I was hoping you'd come down while we were here.”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because, um,” Rena began, looking guilty about something. “I know what happened between you and Ali.”

“You
know?
” Joe sipped his steamy coffee while holding his head steady. “News travels fast.”

“Ali called me this morning. She's very upset.”

Joe gave a slight nod. “She should be.”

Rena leaned back in her seat and sighed deeply. “Oh, believe me, she is.”

“If you ask me, having a woman that amazing go to such great lengths to get you to notice her ain't the worst thing that could happen, man,” Nick said. “You've got rocks in that geek brain of yours if you haven't figured that out yet.”

“I didn't ask you.” Joe sent his brother a grim look.

Nick glanced at Tony, who in turn glanced at Rena. His sister-in-law put her hand on her growing belly, and Joe was reminded to tread carefully with her.

“Joe, she really cares about you,” Rena said.

“Until the next sucker comes along.” This time he took a big swallow of his coffee and burnt his tongue. “Damn it.”

“I think you should hear her out,” Rena said quietly.

“If you know what she did, then how can you ask that of me? She's a phony. Just like her mother.”

“Oh, Joe,” Rena said, nibbling on her lower lip. She glanced at Tony, who sent her a nod of encouragement. “What if I told you I had a hand in that little scheme?”

“I'd say no one forced Ali to follow through with it. You probably thought you were helping. She knew better.”

“The last thing Ali wants is to be like her mother. Perhaps you've judged her too harshly.”

“I've been burned before, remember?”

Rena flinched. “I know, Joe. But Ali seemed so perfect…”

Joe rose. “Thanks for stopping by. I'll live.”

He left the three of them and walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. At least he had a day to get Ali out of his system—until he had to face her at work tomorrow.

 

Ali called in sick on Monday. It was the first time she hadn't come to work since Joe had met her. On Tuesday, he walked into his office and stopped short when he spotted a young blond woman sitting at Ali's desk.

He approached her with furrowed brows. “Who are you?”

She smiled wide, showing sparkling white teeth. “I'm Georgia Scott, from the Short Notice temporary agency.” She rose from behind Ali's desk and put out her hand. “You must be Mr. Carlino.”

“Joe Carlino,” he said, still trying to figure this out. He shook her hand absently. “Where's Ali, Ms. Pendrake?”

“I don't know. Ms. Pendrake called our office yesterday and said you needed a temp. That would be me. She faxed me very detailed instructions.” The woman lifted up several sheets of handwritten papers.

Joe nodded, unnerved seeing Ali's desk occupied by someone else. “Did she say how long you'd be here?”

The woman shot him a quizzical look. “At least two weeks.”

Joe entered his office and listened to his messages. He had four, and the last one was a breathless Ali.

“Hello, Joe. Under the circumstances, it would be best if I didn't work for you anymore. I know you think the worst of me, and I'm not going to beg you for forgiveness. I made a mistake, and I'm truly sorry. I've arranged for a temp and hope she works out until you can find a suitable replacement for me. You'll have my official resignation on your desk tomorrow. If I'm nothing else, I'm efficient.” She laughed sadly into the phone before the message ended.

Joe stared at the answering machine for several minutes, feeling a hollow sense of loss.

And that feeling persisted the rest of the week. He'd made several attempts to call Ali, but his pride had him clicking off before the phone could ring. What could he say to her? He didn't even know who Ali was anymore. It wasn't just that the hair, makeup and demeanor had changed but it was the entire idea behind it that galled him. Was she really that calculating and devious?

Made a man think what else she would have done to gain his attention.

By the middle of the next week, Joe dreaded coming into work each day and not seeing Ali behind her desk. He'd thought he'd get used to seeing Ms. Scott there, typing away, bringing him reports, making his appointments, but that surely didn't happen. Worse yet, he hadn't lapped his swimming pool since the day Ali quit her job. He'd lost his desire and found most mornings he dragged himself out of bed and forced himself to go to work. His well-ordered life had taken a nosedive.

This morning, as he walked into the front doors of Carlino Wines, noting that Georgia Scott wasn't at her desk, Joe's mood lifted a little. He'd come to resent the woman who wasn't Ali. Yet as he approached his own office, he slowed when he reached the doorway. His heart rate sped, and hope that he never thought he'd feel again surged forth. Ali sat in his office. Her back was to him, and she sat erect, holding her head up high, her beautiful long auburn hair flowing in curls down her back.

He entered quietly. “Ali?”

The woman turned her head and looked at Joe with stunning jade-green eyes. She smiled Ali's smile, but she wasn't Ali. “I'm Justine Holcomb, Ali's mother. You must be Joe.”

Shocked by the resemblance, Joe took a second before acknowledging her. “Yes, Joe Carlino.”

She put out her hand, and Joe took it, giving a gentle shake. “Please, if I may have a minute of your time. I came a long distance to speak with you.”

Her soft, gentle voice surprised him. She didn't sound like Ali, but she sure as hell looked like her—a slightly older version but Justine Holcomb was every bit as beautiful as Ali.

“Of course.” Joe took a seat at his desk and waited.

“I can see why Ali loves you,” she began, not mincing words. “And by the hope in your eyes before you realized I wasn't Ali, I think you feel the same way.”

“If you came all this way, to tell me how I feel—”

“No, Joe. I didn't. I came to tell you how
I
feel.”

And Justine Holcomb poured out her heart to him, explaining how she'd grown up poor and wanted so much from life. She told him how her becoming a beauty queen might have been the worst thing that could have happened to her. That she floundered in relationships, never being
satisfied, always looking for something that she could never quite attain.

“I wasn't a very good role model for my daughter. Lord knows, I've finally come to realize that now, in my older years. I'm extremely proud of Ali, Joe. Unlike me, she knows what she wants in life. She's decisive and smart, and she's never wanted to climb social ladders. Believe me when I tell you it's the very last thing on her mind. I know she fears living the same kind of life I've led. She's done everything in her power
not
to be like me, but I know she wants love in her life, Joe. She wants a home and a family.”

Joe didn't know what to say to that.

She watched him with assessing eyes. “I see you're thinking this through. That's good. Don't make snap judgments. I've done that all my life, and look where that got me? Finally, after five husbands, I've found true happiness, and it took a near-fatal heart attack for me to see how much I love my husband. Ali's smarter than me. She only wants one good man in her life.”

He let go a deep pent-up breath.

“And if you don't believe that and think she's just like me, let me share this with you. Since leaving your employ, she's been approached by two of your most formidable competitors to come work for them. Both have offered her great opportunities with more money and frills than she received working for you, if I might add. Ali turned them both down. My daughter is beautiful, and if I might say, she could have her choice of a dozen rich wealthy men, if that were her goal. She doesn't want that—or them. She only wants you.”

Justine rose from her seat and smiled. “Think about it, Joe. Think about Ali and what she really means to you.”

Joe stood up. “I will. Thank you for coming by. I know it wasn't easy for you.”

“Oh, but it was. For my daughter, I'd do anything. I have a lot of making up to do where Ali is concerned.” She cast him a sad smile. “Don't wait too long, Joe. Ali plans on moving back to the East Coast.”

And with that, Justine turned and left, again with her head held high.

Joe shuddered as he watched her go.

 

“I knew that guy was a jerk,” Royce said, helping Ali move some heavy boxes into her living room. The movers were coming tomorrow. It had been two weeks since she'd seen Joe on the best and worst night of her life. Two weeks and he hadn't called. Apparently his mind was made up.

“He's not a jerk,” Ali said in Joe's defense. “He's just, well, I don't know what he is, but he's not a jerk.”

Royce grumbled a reply, but Ali wasn't listening. She focused on her move back to New York. A teeny, tiny part of her thought she should confront Joe and talk it through with him before she left Napa for good, but Ali wasn't sure she could take another rejection from him. The past two weeks had been nightmarish for her. She'd spent all of her tears and had moved on to self-recriminations. She was angry with Joe, but she was even angrier with herself. She should have never concocted that scheme, yet her real anguish came each minute of every day when she realized that they weren't meant for each other.

He doesn't want the real you.

After Royce left to go to work late in the morning, Ali kept busy packing up boxes with her clothes and kitchen items. At noon, when her doorbell rang, she called out, “Coming,” and grabbed her wallet for the pizza she'd ordered.