Who's the Boss? & Her Perfect Stranger: Who's The Boss? / Her Perfect Stranger. Jill Shalvis

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СКАЧАТЬ calories or cents?”

      Caitlin laughed. “Either way, I’m sure it’s too expensive. Besides, I shouldn’t. Oh, man, I really shouldn’t.” Ruefully, she tapped her curvy hips.

      The woman let out a reluctant smile, which softened her entire face. Her green eyes sparkled with life that hadn’t been there before. “This is what I tell myself every morning.”

      Caitlin eyed her spectacular figure—all willowy and slim. “How many do you eat?” she asked doubtfully.

      She shrugged. “Depends on how rude the customers are, which varies. The more annoying jerks I serve, the more I eat.”

      Caitlin sighed and thought of Joe. “I’m afraid if I stopped here every time my boss annoyed me, I’d be busting out of my clothes in a week.”

      The woman laughed now, and gave Caitlin a much more genuine smile. “You’re new here. I’m Amy.”

      “I’m Caitlin.” She dug into her purse to appease her rumbling stomach, and accepted the huge chocolate pastry.

      Amy grinned, removed her apron and grabbed a pastry for herself. “Just in case the crowd gets crazy later, I’ll take my break now.”

      They pigged out together.

      * * *

      BY THE TIME he got to his office the next morning, Joe was high on adrenaline, his mind racing ahead, thinking about his software program.

      With a little luck, he figured he could make real headway today, if he got in the good ten to twelve hours he needed.

      As previously arranged, he had first stopped at one of the local banks to meet with a loan officer, hoping to start the preapproval process. He wanted to be prepared when his program was complete, so he could properly promote and sell it. To do that, he’d need money—a lot of it.

      Despite the hassles ahead, he grinned and silently thanked Edmund for the thousandth time. Without the old man’s generosity in deeding him CompuSoft, Joe wouldn’t even be thinking about this for himself. Edmund had provided the means for Joe to spend the time needed to work on his program. With Edmund’s death, that could have all ended for Joe, but it hadn’t.

      It was a dream come true.

      Whether it was just his own bad luck or his unique ability to actually forget absolutely everything but his work, he entered his office and, completely unprepared, stared stupefied at the front desk.

      It had been cleaned off, or rather cleared off—everything was on the floor. Amazing piles of important-looking stuff surrounded the base of the desk.

      As he took a step into the chaotic room, he tripped and nearly fell flat on his face—over a pair of ruby-red four-inch pumps.

      Empty pumps, he noted.

      Which would explain the barefoot woman on all fours, facing away from him, affording him the best view he’d seen all morning. Apparently, both Tim and Andy felt the same way, because the two techs, who normally couldn’t be budged from their computers, were on the floor, as well, making neat little stacks of God only knew what.

      Caitlin’s head popped up when he shut the door behind him, and she craned her neck around from where she’d been pulling out more stacks of paperwork from beneath her desk.

      Hard as it was to imagine, Joe had completely forgotten about his new secretary.

      “Good morning,” she said in a sexy, cheerful voice that reminded him he still needed a cup of coffee.

      Badly.

      Tim and Andy leaped to their feet, faces red.

      “Hey, Joe,” Andy said quickly, sticking his hands in his jean pockets. “How’d it go at the bank?”

      “It wasn’t as exciting as it appears to have been here.” Joe lifted a brow as Caitlin stretched her lush, petite body as far as it would reach to get a file that had been shoved beneath the far corner of her desk.

      Tim’s and Andy’s jaws dropped open at the sight, but Joe could hardly blame them. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a finer looking rear end.

      And he’d seen his fair share.

      But his quick surge of lust, coming on the heels of forgetting about his new secretary—whom he hadn’t wanted in the first place—only further annoyed him. Already half the morning was gone, and by the looks of things nothing had been accomplished except for a shifting of the mess from the front desk to the floor.

      He sighed.

      Hadn’t he known this would happen if he kept her?

      And dammit, hadn’t he asked her to wear something to hide that body?

      Women, like his work, received his full attention. But they were also simply a diversion—a pleasant one, but temporary nonetheless.

      It had to be that way.

      He’d grown up in emotional chaos. Painful emotional chaos. That’s what personal attachments did. Chopped up the heart and spit it back out. Brought nothing but the opportunity for hurt. With hurt came weakness, and he couldn’t allow that.

      He relied on himself, and that was it. He’d been remarkably relationship free. By choice. And any entanglements he’d enjoyed had been short but sweet.

      An involvement with a co-worker couldn’t be temporary, couldn’t be short and sweet and therefore couldn’t be contemplated. No matter how fine the…assets.

      To prove it, he purposely turned his gaze away from the incredible sight before him.

      Tim and Andy still stood there stupidly, gawking like teenagers. Joe opened his mouth to bark at them, but Vince appeared in the doorway, glasses on his nose, disk in hand.

      “Guys,” Vince said sternly. “You came out here to check on Caitlin half an hour ago. What’s going on—” He broke off at the sight that had rendered both Tim and Andy and then Joe speechless. Carefully, he closed his mouth. Then he glanced at Joe, both amusement and irritation swimming in his gaze.

      Joe jerked his head sharply, and Vince nodded. “Tim, Andy, let’s hit it.”

      Joe sighed when they disappeared and wondered exactly how long it would be before the socialite decided she didn’t want to play at working anymore.

      Hopefully very soon.

      “Well, I beat you in,” Caitlin announced, obviously expecting a medal.

      “You should,” he said, watching her wiggle up to her knees in the tightest, shortest, reddest skirt he’d ever seen. How had she gotten into that thing? “It’s ten o’clock. What the hell are you doing?”

      “Filing.” She slapped her hands together to rid them of dust. “This place is a disaster. Don’t you ever clean?”

      “No, and I knew where everything is…was,” he protested, trying not to panic.

      “It’ll СКАЧАТЬ