The Millionaire's Misbehaving Mistress
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Those black eyebrows shot up in surprise, but his computer pinged, and his attention moved to the screen. “Damn.” His fingers flew across the keyboard before responding. “Evie is my sister—my half sister, actually.”
Ah, the elusive Evangeline she’d read about. The society columns were buzzing with speculation… Oh, no. A bad feeling crept up her spine.
“She’s living with me now, and her manners are atrocious. I need you to teach her how to be a lady. That is what you do, correct?”
Please let me be wrong. Please. “You need social training for your sister?”
“Table manners. Polite conversation. How to behave at a party.” Another ping from the computer, and his eyes went immediately to the screen. “And she’ll need help with her wardrobe as well.”
Damn. Her heart sank as what was left of her hopes evaporated. HarCorp didn’t need her—another spoiled debutante did. Just to be sure, she asked, “And how old is Evie?”
“Fifteen.”
Gwen tried to keep her disappointment out of her voice. “Fifteen’s a bit young for debutante training, don’t you think? Surely you have a few more years before…”
That got his full attention. She trailed off as he pinned her with those hazel eyes, and his voice took on a sharp edge. “She’s not a debutante. She’s an heiress and a Harrison.” He said “Harrison” like it was a synonym for “royalty.” “Sadly, my father and stepmother didn’t see to it that Evie learn how to behave properly in public before they died. Evie needs someone to teach her, and she needs to know enough not to embarrass herself or the family at the Hospital Benefit. It’s pretty straightforward.”
This time, it was the phone on his desk that beeped, drawing his attention away again with only an offhanded “excuse me” as he answered it. Irritation bloomed again before she could help it. She dug her nails into her palm and bit her tongue. Good manners meant she couldn’t call him on his rudeness—and busy man or not, he was starting to really fray her Miss Behavior nerves.
Good manners also meant she shouldn’t eavesdrop on his conversation, and she needed a moment to think and regroup anyway.
She shouldn’t be upset that he wanted her to do social training—it was, after all, her primary source of income at the moment, and she was very good at it. Her pride was just a bit bruised because she’d come in with such high hopes for something else. She should agree to work with his sister…maybe some of the lessons would rub off on him.
That thought kindled her hopes again. Maybe, just maybe, this was the way into HarCorp. The back way in, granted, but she’d take what she could get. She’d work with the sister and hope that the brother would be so impressed he’d listen to her proposals for business training…
“Well, Miss Sawyer, what do you think?” Will’s attention was back on her, and she straightened her spine. Even with her irritation, she had to be impressed with how he could jump from one task to another and not lose track of either. Will steepled his fingers as he leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow raised in question.
“I’d be glad to work with your sister, Mr. Harrison, but three weeks is not a lot of time…”
“Exactly. You’ll need every spare minute with Evie.” He reached for a pen and scribbled something on a piece of paper before rounding the desk once again. This time, though, he leaned his hips back against it as he handed her the paper.
Dragging her thoughts from the long legs stretched out so close to her, she blinked and tried to focus on the bold scrawl.
An address in the elite Turtle Creek neighborhood.
“I’ve told the housekeeper, Mrs. Gray, to prepare the guest room. You can move your things in tonight and start with Evie tomorrow.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks at the thought, and she struggled to find words. “M-m-move in? Are you—I mean, that’s not—” She took a deep breath to calm the unprofessional stuttering caused by his presumptuous statement. “I have a business to run—other clients and responsibilities.” And the papers would have a field day.
“Evie spends several hours a day with her tutors catching up on schoolwork. That would give you some time to take care of your other responsibilities. I’m quite willing to pay you for the inconvenience.”
She had to call on years of training not to react at the outrageous figure he mentioned. He was serious about this.
“And, as I said earlier, your discretion is essential.”
Discretion? For that amount of money he could silence Dallas Lifestyles’s gossip columnist.
She was younger than he’d expected. Prettier, too, in a wholesome girl-next-door kind of way. She lacked that brittle edge that often came with sophistication—a nice contrast from the women he was used to.
He’d been expecting a plump, gray-haired, grandmotherly type—or, at the very least, a Mary Poppins—if for no other reason he felt anyone calling herself an expert on anything should at least look old enough to drink. Miss Gwen Sawyer was neither plump nor grandmotherly and probably got carded on a regular basis. At the same time, she projected a kind of cool elegance that fascinated him and that Evie would benefit from learning.
She acted completely calm and professional, but he knew she wasn’t as detached as she looked. While Miss Sawyer was capable of keeping a good poker face, she couldn’t control those wide hazel eyes of hers that expressed each and every feeling the moment she had it. And she’d experienced several throughout their interview. Calculation, shock, confusion—she’d worked through them all. At least once, he’d even seen irritation there, but he wasn’t sure why. But something had thrown Gwen off her game very early on in the meeting, and it had taken a few minutes for her to regroup. He still hadn’t figured out what that had been about, either.
He expected the money to throw her off-guard. It was much more than such services could possibly cost, but it would assure she’d give Evie her full attention and keep her mouth closed to Tish Cotter-Hulme, the local society gossip columnist.
Gwen regained her balance much more quickly this time, covering her discomfort with cool politeness. Nice trick. Hopefully she could teach it to Evie.
“I couldn’t possibly move into your home.”
“Are you married?” He glanced down to where her fingers laced together in her lap. The white knuckles gave away her agitation as clearly as her eyes did, but from his position, he couldn’t see if she wore a ring or not.
“Excuse me?” Her eyebrows flew toward her hairline in shock, and a flush stained her cheeks.
“Are you married? Do you have children or something?” Gwen took a deep breath before answering, and he realized he was a little too interested in her response.
“No, but—”
“Good.” He let out the breath he’d been holding. “I understand the request is a bit odd—” Gwen gave him a wonderful “you think?” look that would have been funny in a different situation, so he forged ahead before she could mount a stronger rejection of his offer. “But Evie’s still recovering from her mother’s death. She’s a little fragile at times and having a hard time adjusting. She needs someone who can give her undivided attention. It would be easier on her to have you there full-time.”
He could see Gwen softening.
She played with the pearls at her neck, calling his attention to the flush rising from the collar of her blouse. “I guess I could—”
“Excellent.”
Gwen took a deep breath, and her hand fell back to her lap. When she spoke, that cool professionalism was back. In a way he was disappointed; a slightly rattled Gwen was much more interesting.
“I’ll prepare a contract and fax it to your secretary this afternoon.”
“And I have a nondisclosure agreement that will require your signature as well. I don’t want Evie embarrassed or details of my private life shared with the papers.”
“Of course. I understand completely.” She stood, and he rose to his feet. Although he topped her by a good seven inches, she pushed her shoulders back and looked him squarely in the eye for the first time since he’d rattled her with his unorthodox proposal. “I’ll gather my things and be at your home tonight around six-thirty or so. Will that be acceptable?”
Her words caused a smile. He didn’t know much about etiquette, but Miss Sawyer would make one hell of an executive if she put her mind to it. He was looking forward to seeing her in action with Evie.
“That’ll be fine. I’ll tell Mrs. Gray to serve dinner around seven.”
She offered her hand. “I’ll see you then. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Harrison.”
“Call me Will.”
“And I’m Gwen. I’ll see you tonight.”
With another of those cool, polite smiles, Gwen Sawyer showed herself to the door, allowing him the opportunity to observe what he’d missed earlier by being on the phone when she arrived. Long legs. Nice curves almost camouflaged by a conservative suit. A graceful and unhurried walk.
Hopefully Evie would take to her.
He couldn’t help but think back to the evening two nights ago. After Marcus left, he’d found Evie on the stairs, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. Evie took after Rachel with her auburn hair and high cheekbones, but she had her father’s—their father’s—eyes. Unsure how to handle a teary teenager, he’d joined her on the steps but said nothing.
Evie broke the silence first. “I’m sorry I’m such an embarrassment to you.”
She must have overhead Marcus’s comments. “You’re not an embarrassment. You just don’t know what it’s like here.” He patted her shoulder, feeling awkward as he did. He was still new to this big brother thing.
“I’m willing to learn, Will. I promise I’ll work really hard.” She swallowed hard as the tears overflowed. “Please don’t send me away.”
“Away?”
“To boarding school. I heard Uncle Marcus mention it last week. I don’t want to go. Please, Will.”
Guilt at even considering Marcus’s suggestion nagged at him. “You’re not going to boarding school. You’re a Harrison, and this is where you belong.”
Evie’s tear-streaked face split into a wide grin as she launched herself into his arms.
Parenting a teenager still had him confused, but he’d bridged a gap that night with Evie. He barely knew her—partly due to the difference in their ages and partly because he’d simply been too busy to concern himself with a child several thousand miles away. But they were getting to know each other now and coming to an agreeable living arrangement.
He was getting the hang of this after all. With the addition of Gwen Sawyer to the team, his life could start working itself back to normal.
And, just to be sure, he’d be home for Gwen’s arrival tonight.
CHAPTER TWO
“YOU are kidding me, right? The Will Harrison hired you? I didn’t even know he had a sister.”
“That’s because you don’t read the society section closely enough. And don’t sound so surprised. As I’ve been reminded more than once recently, social training is what I do for a living.” Gwen balanced the phone on her shoulder as she loaded her laptop into its case.
Sarah went into Sister Support Mode. “Temporarily, Gwennie, temporarily. Even if the kid eats with her feet, you’ll turn her into Jackie O in no time. Then, big brother will have to listen to what you can do for his company.”
“I can hope.” Gwen consulted her list. Laptop. Dinner kit. Tea kit. Etiquette books for her new client. Her suitcase. Check, check, check and check.
The increase in background noise meant her sister was no longer alone. Hastily she added, “Listen, you can’t tell anyone about this. ‘My discretion is essential,’ remember?”
“Ich verstehe.” Sarah switched to German, a tactic they’d used for years when they didn’t want others to understand their conversation. “Is he as handsome as his pictures?”
Better than his pictures. Yummy, actually. “Oh, grow up, Sarah.”
“He’s Dallas’s Most Eligible Bachelor, you know.”
“One of them, at least,” she hedged.
“Seriously, what’s he like?”
“Busy. A bit brusque. In need of one of my refresher classes.” Gwen grabbed her address book and current client files and added them to the growing pile. Will Harrison might be the biggest client she’d signed on, but she still had to take care of the others.
“Well, maybe your lessons with his sister will rub off on him.”
Gwen responded with an unladylike, but noncommittal “humph” as she dragged her suitcase down the hallway. “One more thing. Can you look after Letitia for a while?”
“Sure, Gwennie. Why?”
“This is where your discretion comes in. I’m going to be living with the Harrisons for the next couple of weeks.” Gwen held the phone away from her ear in expectation of her sister’s reaction.
“You’re what?” Even with the phone several inches away, she clearly heard every one of the dozen rapid-fire questions delivered at the top of her sister’s voice.
“Calm down. Good Lord, you sound exactly like Mother when you do that.”
“That’s uncalled for.”
“Well, if the shoe fits…”
“You do understand that if that columnist from Dallas Lifestyles gets wind of this, she’ll have a field day with you.”
“There’s nothing nefarious going on. I’m moving into the guest bedroom so I’ll have total access to Evie. If my over-developed sense of propriety can handle it, so can yours.” She consulted her list one last time. Surely she had everything she needed. It wasn’t like she was going to Siberia or anything. “Since when do you care what people think anyway?”
Sarah sighed. “That’s my point. I don’t, but you need to. Let me remind you that the majority of your clientele is hugely conservative. Proper debutante trainers don’t live with men they aren’t related to.”
“I know, I know. This is why you need to keep your mouth shut. Should anyone find out—”
“And you know they will, Gwennie. Will Harrison is one of that Hulme woman’s favorite subjects for her column. Do you honestly think you can move in to his house and no one will notice?”
It was Gwen’s turn to sigh. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. This is a business arrangement, nothing more. No one would question it if he’d hired a live-in housekeeper. This isn’t any different.”
“I’d keep practicing that statement, if I were you. I think you’re going to need it.”
“There’s no need to sound so dire. It’s not like there’s paparazzi staking out his building or anything. If I just lie low and not call attention to myself, this should stay under the radar.”
“Good luck with that.” Gwen could almost hear Sarah’s eyes rolling with the sarcasm.
“Jeez, thanks for the vote of support.”
“You have my support—you know that. I also know how hard you’ve worked to build something here, and I’d hate for you to lose ground again.”
“I know. But I just get the feeling this is the right thing to do. That it’s my chance. I’ve got to try. If not, I’m afraid I’m going to spend another five years playing with place settings.”
“Then I’ll keep my fingers and toes crossed for you.”
“Thank you. Now can you come get Letitia and keep her until I’m finished with Evie?”
“Of course.”
“And speaking of Evie, can I bring her in to see you this week? Seems she’s going to need a wardrobe.”
She heard the clicks from the keyboard that meant Sarah was checking her schedule. “I’m free Friday afternoon,” she finally said. “Will that work? Monday morning would be okay, too. Just let me know.”
“Thanks. I’m already running late so I really have to go. I’ll have my cell if you need me. And remember, discretion.”
“Genau.” Sarah switched back to English. “Call me tomorrow. I want to hear all the juicy details.”
“Goodbye.” There will be no juicy details this time.
The brief foray into German reminded Gwen to go back to her office for her Japanese dictionary and software. If she wanted to promote herself as an expert in Asian relations, she needed to get her fluency back in Japanese. Which meant she was dependent on software for the time being. Hopefully Evie didn’t eat with her feet and she’d have some time to practice…
As she loaded her car, she questioned her sanity one last time. If all went well, this could change everything for her. If she could just get HarCorp as a satisfied customer, every company in Dallas would be lining up for her services. Heck, HarCorp could open doors for her all over Texas.
But if Evie wasn’t ready in time…she could kiss most of her clientele goodbye. Sarah wasn’t wrong about her business suffering if the gossip columns decided to portray her as some kind of immoral floozy. But the true Worst Case Scenario was if she didn’t produce the results Will Harrison expected. Unhappy Harrisons spelled certain doom for her entire business—including the debs. No one would hire her for anything if the Harrisons blacklisted her. The Dallas elite were a close-knit group. Alienating one meant alienating them all.
This was make or break time.
Nothing like a little pressure to keep a girl on her toes. She shifted into Drive and tried to think positively.
On a map, Will Harrison’s high-rise building might be only four miles from her funky M Street cottage, but in terms of wealth, Gwen felt like she’d traveled to the moon.
She stopped under the porte cochere where a doorman met her at her car and introduced himself as Michael. She identified herself, half expecting to be told to move her simple Honda to a less-affluent area.
“Miss Sawyer, of course. Mr. Harrison said to expect you. Let me help you with your things, and Ricky will take your car to the garage.”
The helpful doorman made easy conversation as he gathered her gear from the trunk and escorted her to the elevator. “The Harrisons are in Penthouse A.”
Of course they are. Where else would they live? Michael pushed the button marked P, and she gasped as the elevator sped to the top floor in seconds and deposited them almost directly in front of the door marked A.
“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” she muttered.
“Excuse me?” Michael asked from behind her.
“Oh, nothing.” With one last mental slap to the forehead, she rang the bell.
She heard a voice shout “I’ll get it!” before the door was thrown open by a teenage girl she had to assume was Evie.
The girl’s dark red hair was braided into cornrows tipped with colorful beads that swung dangerously as she turned to shout, “Will, she’s here!” She waved Gwen in and smiled at Michael as he returned to the elevator.
Evie’s casual air and easy manner contrasted sharply with the cool marble elegance of the foyer. Tall and thin in the way only teenagers can be, she wore faded blue jeans frayed at the hems and a gauzy white peasant shirt. While she was barefoot and fresh-faced now, Evie would be a raving beauty once she matured out of the gangly awkwardness of adolescence. Gwen remembered the picture of Bradley Harrison that hung in the HarCorp lobby; Evie must have inherited her amazing bone structure from her mother. Neither she nor Will favored Bradley Harrison at all, except for their eyes.
Just as she thought his name, Will appeared from a room farther down the hall. Her breath caught in her chest. The suit and tie were gone, replaced by a pair of faded jeans and a snug blue T-shirt that clearly outlined the shoulders she’d admired earlier in his office. Tanned biceps flexed as he helped Gwen bring her suitcase in.
He, too, was barefoot, and she felt ridiculously out-of-place: overdressed in her suit and sensible shoes and totally dumpy standing next to such perfect specimens of beauty.
“Gwen, this is my sister, Evangeline. Evie, this is Miss Sawyer.”
Pulling herself together, Gwen offered her hand to Evie. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Evangeline. May I call you Evie as well?”
“Ohmigod, you really are Miss Behavior, aren’t you?”
Gwen ignored Will’s uplifted eyebrows. “Yes, I am. I take it you read my column?”
Evie bounced on the balls of her feet. “Every single day since Mrs. Gray told me I had to learn some manners. Plus all the archive stuff, too. I’ve learned so much already. I can’t believe Will got you as my teacher! Cool!”
“Then let’s try this again.” Gwen offered her hand to Evie a second time. “It’s nice to meet you, Evangeline.”
Evie took the hint and with a sideways glance at Will tried again. “It’s nice to meet you too, Miss Sawyer. Please call me Evie.” Evie shook her hand, but it was a timid handshake. They’d work on that tomorrow.
“Since we’re going to be working closely together, why don’t you call me Gwen?”
Evie grinned, and Gwen knew she had a winner on her hands.
“Evie, take Gwen’s things to her room.” Evie disappeared around a corner, dragging Gwen’s suitcase behind her, and Will lifted an eyebrow at her. “Miss Behavior?”
“On the TeenSpace site. Kind of like Miss Manners.” He finally guided her out of the foyer and into a living area with another spectacular view of Dallas. The man must really like looking out over the skyline. “That’s why Evie knew what I was talking about there in the hallway. We went over introductions just last week on the site.”
He nodded and changed the subject abruptly. “Mrs. Gray will have dinner ready in just a minute or two. Would you like a drink?”
Desperately. But she shook her head and declined. She needed her A-game tonight, and a drink wouldn’t help. Perching carefully in the wing chair opposite his, she tried to make small talk. It wasn’t easy.
Will picked up his glass from the coffee table and swirled the amber liquid. Scotch? Bourbon? she wondered briefly, then lost her train of thought as he leaned back in the chair and propped his feet on the edge of the coffee table. They were large and tanned, and for reasons she couldn’t begin to explore, oddly fascinating to her.
“Gwen?”
She snapped back to the conversation and felt the guilty flush creep up her neck. She’d been staring at his feet, for goodness sake. What on earth was wrong with her?
She smiled an apology.
“You can get settled in after dinner. Please make yourself at home. If you need anything, just let Mrs. Gray know.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, let’s talk about Evie.”
Another complete turnaround. Will got bonus points for remembering the small pleasantries, but he remained focused on why she was here.
“What about me?” Evie came into the room and flopped on the sofa.
“I want to hear how Gwen’s going to miraculously turn you into a lady before the Hospital Benefit. You should be sitting up straight and paying attention.”
Evie straightened up and both Harrison siblings looked at her expectantly.
Good God. What have I gotten myself into? “Well…”
Mrs. Gray chose that moment to call them to dinner and Gwen sent up a word of thanks. This was the strangest situation of her career, and she wasn’t sure how to proceed. Dinner would make this much easier.
How wrong she was. Evie chattered like a magpie, covering every topic that crossed her mind, from the TeenSpace site and Gwen’s column to how much she disliked the food in America. Will said little, occasionally commenting on Evie’s monologue when she paused for a breath, and when his BlackBerry beeped in the next room, he went to get it and brought it back to the table with him.
Gwen watched it all in a state of mild shock.
“So, how do you become a manners expert, Gwen? Is there like a school someplace or something?” Evie perched her chin on her fist and gave Gwen her full attention for the first time during the meal. Will even looked up from his BlackBerry to hear her answer.
Well, at least it was some progress. “There are several schools, actually. I have a B.A. in International Affairs, and I’ve attended protocol schools on both coasts. But my family was in the Foreign Service, so I’ve spent my entire life—”