In Bed with the Boss. Christine Rimmer

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      “But I really would like to know. You keep hinting that there’s something I can do for you, but you never—”

      “Well, I was thinking along the lines of a little… information gathering. As Holloway’s assistant, you’ll have access to certain sensitive material I can’t get any other way.”

      “Access to what, exactly?”

      “Later. Right now, you only need to do your new job and do it well.”

      “Uncle Drake, are you telling me you want to spy for you?”

      She heard him sigh. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves, don’t you think?”

      “No, I don’t. I need to know specifically what you’re going to expect me to—”

      Again he interrupted her. “Don’t worry, Shelly. I just wanted to congratulate you and tell you to keep up the good work. I’ll call you. Soon.”

      Before she could say another word, she heard the click on the other end. He’d hung up. She set the phone down carefully and tried to decide what she ought to do next.

      Call him back and demand specifics? She knew already what she’d get for that. He’d tell her again not to worry.

      Should she call her mom, ask for advice? No. It wasn’t her mom’s problem and she didn’t want to worry her.

      But the situation made her nervous. Her uncle, who’d spent most of his life behaving as if her branch of the family didn’t exist, showed up out of nowhere, wined and dined her and then told her where to go and what to do to get the kind of job she’d been seeking for months with zero success.

      It was too perfect. Add his warning that she shouldn’t mention him at TAKA-Hanson? Definitely suspicious. And now he’d told her right out that in time he would want her to spy for him.

      But so what? She’d done nothing wrong. She would do nothing wrong.

      And until her uncle actually asked her to do something unethical, she would mind her own business and not borrow trouble.

      Chapter Two

      The next day, Shelly claimed Verna’s desk for her own. She got to work at seven-thirty and set up the computer the way she liked it. She went through the desk drawers and rearranged them to her personal satisfaction.

      Tom arrived at eight-fifteen. “First day flying solo, huh?” He wore a designer suit and a tie that matched his eyes and she thought he looked amazing.

      “I’ve got Verna’s cell on auto-dial if I need her. Which I won’t.”

      “Confidence. I like that.” He looked at her with admiration. She resisted the urge to smooth her hair. “Give me fifteen minutes and we’ll go over the calendar.”

      “Will do.”

      He disappeared into his office and she stared at the place he’d been, grinning like a fool.

      Note to self: mind on the job, not on the boss.…

      The day progressed without a single crisis—not on Shelly’s end, anyway. She put the final touches on the arrangements for Verna’s retirement party, which she’d managed to move up to tomorrow night after Verna had confided that her husband wanted to head for some RV park in Ohio on Sunday.

      Tom spent most of his day putting out fires.

      He had to call an emergency meeting about the San Francisco flagship site. The hotel was supposed to be opening in September and the interiors, according to the site manager there, were a disaster. The designer was not only over budget, but also behind schedule. Way behind schedule.

      There was also some problem at the Kyoto site. The facility there was still under construction, and things had been moving right along until the past few weeks. And there were accounting issues, as well. Tom took another long meeting with his managers to discuss the situation.

      Friday he told Shelly he would be going to San Francisco on Monday and then to Japan on Thursday. “You’ll probably have to move a few meetings around for me. Go over my appointments and make the calls. Push everything to the following week, if you can. We should have the day here in Chicago on Wednesday, so you can pack it with whatever can’t be put off till the week of the thirtieth. Let me know if there are issues.”

      “Yes. Of course.”

      He said, “And I’d like you with me for both trips.”

      With him…

      Somehow, Shelly managed not to jump up and down in her chair. This was the life. Jetting to the west coast. Zipping off to Japan…

      She’d get packed over the weekend. It was going to be fabulous. She needed a decent suitcase. One of those new ones with four wheels. She’d pick one up Saturday morning. They couldn’t be that expensive, could they?

      He asked, “Can you manage it?”

      “It?” She blinked.

      “Two trips in one week?”

      “Uh. Yeah. I can. I’m with you. No biggie.” Max would still be in Mount Vernon next week. Childcare wouldn’t be a problem. Not this time.

      “Got a passport?”

      “Yes, I do. I took care of that on the day I got the job.”

      “Good. What else? Everything under control for Verna’s party tonight?”

      “Everything’s a go. I just got off the phone with the caterer. And I checked around the office to make certain they all knew we’d changed the date. From the responses I got, we should have a great turnout.”

      They held Verna’s retirement party in a friendly little bar on a side street, a few blocks west of the office. Most of the women from HR were there, along with the lower-level executives from the finance department and several of the secretaries and assistants Verna had worked with in her twenty-two years at Hanson Media, then TAKA-Hanson.

      Verna’s husband, Hank, came, too. And Tom, of course.

      The beer flowed freely and the food was cafeteria-style, set out in chafing dishes on a long table. Customers grabbed a plate and helped themselves.

      Verna got a Rolex to mark the occasion and Tom gave a little speech in her honor. And he offered a toast. “To Verna. We’ll miss you. Think about us now and then while you and Hank are out there seeing America.…” He raised his beer glass to his former assistant as Hank put his arm around her and kissed the top of her graying head. Everybody clapped and cheered.

      From the stool she’d claimed down the bar, Shelly raised her glass high and joined in the toast, happy for Verna, even happier for herself.

      Someone tapped her shoulder. She swiveled her chair around. “Hey, Lil.” Lillian Todd worked for one of the finance managers. She had sleek red hair and a killer body. She seemed to spend most of her time in the break room and СКАЧАТЬ