The Boss and the Plain Jayne Bride. HEATHER MACALLISTER

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СКАЧАТЬ the ravioli and the M&M’s—and adding rum to her diet cola—didn’t really care.

      She cared the next morning, though. A lot. However, there was a bonus to falling asleep on the couch with her head soaking in conditioner. Her hair, which had resembled a pale brown dandelion, now lay in greasy kinks reminiscent of corkscrew pasta. Jayne felt this was an improvement.

      But her face was too pale. Color. She needed color. Eventually she folded one of her scarves into a headband and tied her hair back. In the bathroom mirror, a bare face stared back at her. Jayne wasn’t used to seeing that much of her face at one time. She pulled out a few wisps of bangs, though they didn’t want to wisp anymore and began a desperate search for the pearl earrings that her grandparents had given her for graduation and she hadn’t worn since. Why bother with earrings when her hair usually covered her ears?

      Friday was not shaping up into the best of days. She had doubts about her appearance when she caught regulars on her Park & Ride bus giving her second looks. Or, it could be the sunglasses she wore, but didn’t everyone notice how blindingly bright the lights were? Had all the lightbulbs been changed for ones with a higher wattage? What a waste of taxpayer dollars.

      Hoping to clear her head, she forced herself to walk at a brisker pace from the Galleria stop to the Transco Tower. Entering the air-conditioned foyer, she realized she’d left her business pumps at her apartment and would either have to wear the battered rain pair she kept in her office, or her tennis shoes all day.

      “Hey, Jaynie!” hooted the delivery courier when Jayne tried to sneak past the reception area. She detested the name Jaynie. “Ooh, look who tied one on last night!” He grinned.

      Jayne didn’t grin back, her attention caught by the expression on Beth, the receptionist’s face. Gad, I must look awful. The scarf apparently wasn’t providing the pick-me-up to her appearance that she’d hoped.

      “Weeeell,” said Bill when she slunk by his cubicle. “Still waters run deep.”

      Jayne ignored his crack. “How was class last night?”

      “You mean the class I’m teaching so your evenings would be free?” Bill grinned wolfishly and leaned back in his chair.

      Jayne stared him down, hoping he’d tip over.

      “Not talking, are you?”

      “Not unless it’s about class.”

      “Okay. I wanted to talk to you about that, too.” Bill straightened in an abrupt shift from obnoxious to businesslike. “Mr. Waterman says he’s had six calls from people in the class wanting to sign accounting agreements with us. That’s twenty-five percent of the enrollment. There’ve only been three classes—what did you do to them? And more important, can you teach me how to do it?”

      The only explanation Jayne could think of was that the people in her class missed her and didn’t want to continue the course without her. Personally gratifying, but that wasn’t going to encourage Bill, was it? And she wanted him to continue teaching, didn’t she? So she shrugged. “No secret. I just followed the curriculum.”

      Bill raised an eyebrow. “There were comments about bookkeeping being too complicated.”

      Jayne wished she hadn’t been quite so considerate of his feelings. “Then they weren’t paying attention,” she mumbled and edged away from Bill’s cubicle.

      “When I tried to review bookkeeping to see where you’d left off, it appeared that you didn’t leave off anywhere.” He leaned back in his chair so his head stuck out of the cubicle. “Did you really cover the whole section in one night?”

      “I was on a roll.” Jayne escaped, feeling defensive. Treat people like they’ve got brains and see what happens. On the other hand, the company had six new accounts, so Mr. Waterman should be happy.

      But...didn’t any of those six people request Jayne as their accountant?

      Feeling sorry for herself, she shut her office door and sank onto the small sofa she’d inherited from the office’s previous occupant. Opening the cruise brochure, she stared at Garrett Charles and sighed. So handsome. So out of reach.

      So get over him. Closing the book on that part of her life, Jayne put on her reading glasses, and got to work on the stupid Magruder report for Bill.

      After half an hour, she threw the pen she’d been chewing at the computer monitor in disgust Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. No wonder Bill wanted to palm off the Magruder. Standards had really fallen since Jayne had paid her dues by filing the report. She’d hoped to finish it within an hour and get to her own work, but that wasn’t going to be.

      Examining back copies of the weekly report, Jayne discovered an error that had been repeated for at least three months. She didn’t have time to go back further, but some poor intern would.

      She was composing a memo to Mr. Waterman about the problem, when the silver-haired gentleman knocked on her open door.

      “Jayne, are you busy?” It was a rhetorical question and they both knew it.

      “No,” Jayne answered, just as rhetorically. At least she hoped Mr. Waterman knew she was speaking rhetorically.

      “Good. I’d like you to meet a new client.” He stood to one side and a tall, dark-haired man carrying a briefcase entered Jayne’s office. “This is Garrett Charles. He’s requested you to be his account executive.”

      CHAPTER THREE

      AT FIRST, Garrett wasn’t certain that the frozen woman who stared at him from behind a massive wooden desk was the same Jayne Nelson who’d taught the first two accounting sessions he’d attended. The glasses and the slicked-back hair momentarily threw him.

      But the dazed look was one with which he was disagreeably familiar. Being a retired model and coming from a family of models, Garrett was well aware of his appearance and its effect on people.

      Most women stared when they first encountered Garrett Charles. Since the time he’d become aware of girls and women—sometime after they’d become aware of him—Garrett had been the recipient of women’s stares. Depending on the woman, eye contact might be anything from a quick assessing survey to stolen glances accompanied by giggles to frankly admiring gazes, which he preferred to the impersonally professional studies that were a part of his business. Rarely, however, was a woman in danger of going into shock the way Jayne Nelson was.

      He’d assumed they were past the staring stage, but apparently not. Pale-faced, she hadn’t blinked since Waterman had announced him. Assuming a pleasant expression, which he was prepared to hold until she recovered, Garrett advanced into the room.

      “The Charles family incorporated some time ago as Venus, Inc., a modeling firm. Their executive manager has resigned and the Charleses want Pace Waterman to take over as they expand the business.”

      Jayne’s eyes never left his face, Garrett noticed and doubted she’d even heard Waterman’s summary of his situation.

      He sighed inwardly. Years of training allowed him to keep his face in a bland mask until staring females realized what they were doing. Embarrassing them served no purpose except to make everyone feel uncomfortable. Unfortunately Jayne’s boss didn’t have the benefit of that training.

      “Jayne?” СКАЧАТЬ