The Boss's Urgent Proposal

Chapter Two

Josh glanced around Olivia’s empty living room, desperately wishing she still had a chair, because the second she opened her door he felt he needed to sit. But without furniture in the room, he was forced to stand on legs that didn’t seem to want to support him.

Olivia had knocked him for a loop dressed in jeans and a cute little green top. With her blond hair hanging past her shoulder blades instead of pulled back in the usual ponytail or neat chignon, she didn’t look at all like a secretary, but a woman. For the first ten seconds he actually felt dizzy and sort of weak-kneed. He would have wisely sat for a bit to give himself time to get his bearings, but she didn’t have a darned chair!

“So,” he said, trying to sound casual and knowing he was failing. But it didn’t matter because he had accomplished the real goal of his mission. She had agreed to help him get organized so he could train her replacement. No matter how silly or how shaky he sounded, the victory was his. And the sooner he got her out of this house and into his, the less chance she would change her mind.

“I appreciate your doing this, Liv,” he said, then wondered why he had the sudden inspiration to give her a nickname when he had never used one before. “But, since it’s already late, I think we should get going.”

Olivia turned to face him and Josh found himself caught in the gaze of her unusual green eyes. They weren’t green like grass, or green like moss, but more the color of the ocean. Sort of an aqua. He’d never noticed them before.

“To your house?”

“Well, yeah. We’ll get you settled and then maybe we’ll even have time for you to give me some background information about your job before we call it a night.”

“I guess,” Olivia said, but she stammered and stumbled over her words, as if she were having second thoughts about her agreement. Josh nearly panicked until she added, “The thing is, Josh, I have to be out of here tonight. That means I have to have all my boxes out of here.”

A rush of relief poured through him. For a minute there, he thought she might have changed her mind. Or, worse, that she was recognizing the layers of complications involved in spending the weekend at his house. After all they were both single, good-looking adults, and in spite of the fact that he was more than ten years older than she, he was suddenly attracted to her. Maybe she had noticed and wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to stay overnight with him…. Or maybe after seeing him in another context she was feeling an attraction to him….

Nah. That was nothing but his over-active imagination traveling into the land of wishful thinking.

“That’s simple enough. I’ll help you get the rest of these boxes into your car and then you can follow me home. By the way, where’s your furniture?”

“I sold it. I’m going to be living with my mother and stepfather until I get on my feet. Once I do, I would rather buy new things than use what I had here, because I want to make a whole new life.”

He knew there was significance in that statement. She hadn’t said it with any extra inflection, but Josh instinctively knew that selling her furniture or maybe starting over again meant something to her.

“Well,” he said, not quite sure why a simple statement would leave him with a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. “New furniture is as good a way as any to make a declaration of independence.”

She nodded, and her blond hair floated around her like a billowy cloud. In the thin light of the early evening, her complexion was smooth and edged with shadows that gave her a mysterious, sultry countenance, again feeding the notion that he didn’t really know this woman at all, and again making him feel tongue-tied and stupid.

He glanced around at her boxes to get his eyes off her. “What do you say we get started?”

“Okay,” she agreed, but now her voice sounded uncertain. Almost as if she didn’t know how to treat him anymore.

Josh understood that feeling perfectly. He hadn’t necessarily missed that his former secretary was an attractive woman, he had just never noticed that she was drop-dead gorgeous. Not that that influenced how he felt about her. He had always liked her. True, he didn’t show her any affection. Sometimes he wasn’t even really friendly. But he was busy. He was always busy. It wasn’t easy to work for family. First, he didn’t want to take advantage of the generosity of his uncle. Second, he didn’t ever want anyone to accuse him of not pulling his weight. If he worked harder and longer than everyone else, it was because he had to.

And if that meant his personal life suffered, then so be it. The problem was, though, in one ten-minute encounter out of the office, with roles reversed, or perhaps in some respects completely nonexistent, watching Olivia’s hair shifting around her every time she moved, and her nice little butt outlined in her jeans, Josh was considering that maybe—just maybe—his life was out of balance.

“Josh?”

“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry,” Josh apologized quickly, then hoped she hadn’t caught him staring at her, pining for something he couldn’t have. Because that was ridiculous. Hormones. An unexpected wash of testosterone. That’s all. His goals, his lifestyle, his dedication to a man who had rescued him from a job he hated, couldn’t be overturned merely from seeing a pretty girl in jeans that fit as if they were cut to cling to her curves.

“Tell me what box to move and where to take it, and I’ll start toting and storing.”

“Okay,” she said, chipper and happy again.

Josh nearly breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to be attracted to her. He didn’t want to be attracted to anybody, but he especially didn’t want to be attracted to her. She worked for him. Any move he made or inadvertently flirty thing he said could be construed as sexual harassment, but more than that she was vital to his plans right now. He needed her to be his teacher…and maybe his friend. But that was it.

Comfortable that his resolve was in place, he took a quick peek at her to see if the sight of her disrupted his reinforced conviction. When it didn’t, he knew he was back to normal. It was for both of their benefit that he didn’t see her as anything other than a secretary, and if it killed him over the next few days, he would treat her as impersonally as possible.

They stepped into Josh’s foyer a little more than an hour later and Olivia gasped with appreciation. Pale oak trimmed the three-tiered stairway that led to an open second-floor hall. Ceramic tile glistened beneath her feet. A sparkling chandelier hung from a glittery chain.

“Oh, gosh, Josh, your house is fantastic.”

“Thank you. I like it,” he said, taking her summer-weight jacket when she handed it to him.

“Did you do this yourself?” she asked, peeking around the corner at a comfortable room that was furnished in Southwest American decor. Earthy greens, hazy pinks and muted browns in the accent rug, sofa, and chairs came to life as soon as Josh turned on an overhead light.

“Gina helped. But the truth is I know what I like, and when I see what I like I…” He paused, and his face scrunched with an odd look before he slowly added, “I usually go after it. Not always, though, because some things aren’t meant to be. Or aren’t meant to happen.”

When he said the last, Olivia got the distinct impression he wasn’t talking about furniture anymore. For a fleeting second she worried that he had somehow caught on to the fact that she was unreasonably attracted to him and was warning her off, but that couldn’t be it. He hadn’t in four years figured out she had a crush on him. It was a stretch to think he saw it now. Besides, she hadn’t succumbed to his magnetic pull yet. Her resolve was in place. He might be good-looking and sexy, but even if she loved him to pieces, he didn’t love her. She was done pining over unrequited love.

But as he led her from the homey living room, through a formal dining room and into a cheerful kitchen decorated with a red-and-white tablecloth, curtains and chair pads, Olivia had second thoughts about her resolution. In fact, being in the room felt downright spooky. All her girlhood she had dreamed of a kitchen exactly like this one, and though she hadn’t precisely envisioned the living room, she loved it. She could live in this house as comfortably as he could, and that seemed to point out that they were more alike than they realized and might even be a sign that they were made for each other.

She stopped that conclusion. Immediately. Her decision was final. The man didn’t love her. She needed to go. She was going. There was a big, wide wonderful world that she had missed while longing for him to notice her. She wasn’t missing another minute of it.

“So, is there anybody expecting you in Florida?”

“Oh, my gosh! Yes. My mother,” Olivia said. “I need to call her and let her know I won’t be arriving tomorrow.”

He smiled. “My thought exactly. Why don’t you use the phone in the den while I see if I can find something to make for dinner? If I can’t find anything, I’ll order out for pizza. Anything special you like on your pizza?”

“No. I’m sort of a cheese-and-sauce girl. Nothing fancy for me.”

“You don’t even like pepperoni?” he asked quizzically.

She grimaced. “I don’t mean to be difficult, but no. If you don’t mind, I hate pepperoni and I hate picking it off even more.”

Josh’s expression changed so rapidly, Olivia couldn’t follow it. “I hate pepperoni, too.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for about thirty seconds, and though Olivia knew she was digesting the significance of yet another thing they had in common, she also knew he was not.

He didn’t like her.

He wasn’t attracted to her.

Heck, he hardly realized she was a woman. She had to remember that!

“I’m going to go call my mom,” she said, then turned and fled the room. At least this time, she not only left as she planned, she actually made it away from him without him changing her mind.

She followed a logical path through the downstairs until she found his den. Walls paneled in rough wood greeted her when she opened the door. She walked to the utilitarian computer workstation, turned on a brass lamp and found the multiline phone under a stack of Hilton-Cooper-Martin marketing reports. Even at home the man worked.

Olivia got a tug on her heartstrings. He desperately needed someone to care for him, to bring love into his life, to make his world warm and filled with simple pleasures, and she wanted so much to be that person.

But she also knew she had wasted enough time. Josh didn’t want her. If she were truly the woman who could bring joy to his world she would have figured out a way to do it in four years.

“Hello, Mama?” she said, when her mother answered the phone. “It’s Olivia.”

“Oh, Liv, thank God it’s you,” her mother said, and though Olivia had heard that nickname a million times it suddenly struck her that only her mother ever used it. But, tonight, Josh had. “When you didn’t call from your hotel, we were worried sick that something happened.”

“Well, something did happen,” Olivia said, leaning back in Josh’s office chair and twisting the phone cord around her finger. “Since my job doesn’t really interface with anyone else’s, and they haven’t found a replacement for me yet…”

“Oh, my Lord, you’re staying aren’t you?” her mother said, sounding discouraged. “Liv, honey, I thought—”

“It’s not what you think,” Olivia said, interrupting her mother in a rush. “I’m staying the weekend. I’m going to explain my job to Josh and tell him where to find things, so he can train a replacement. We might have to go into the office tomorrow,” she said, realizing that unless she actually showed him her filing system Josh would never understand it. “But then I’ll be on my way.”

“Good. Good,” her mother said, her tone indicating that she was trying to be understanding and supportive.

“Mama, don’t worry,” Olivia said to alleviate her mother’s fears. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

“It isn’t that I don’t think Josh is a nice guy. When I met him at your company picnic, I thought he was a great guy. A very sweet, polite boy who seemed to focus too much on work. But, Liv, you have to start thinking about yourself and you have to stay in the real world. Remember what happened to me?”

Olivia bit back a sigh. “Yes, Mama.”

“After your father died I waited ten years for Greg Ruppert to marry me, but he never did. And two weeks after I came to my senses and broke up with him I found the right man. I’ve not only been happy as a clam since then, I’ve found peace, and joy, and a purpose in life.”

“I know,” Olivia said softly, realizing it was true.

“And I honestly believe your right man is just around the corner,” Olivia’s mother continued. “I can feel it. I can feel it in my heart and soul in the way only a mother can feel these things. I just know you’re about to find your real Prince Charming.”

At that, Olivia smiled. Her mother relied on instincts and what she called lessons from history to make some fairly accurate predictions. If Karen Brady Franklin said she believed with her mother’s heart and soul that Olivia was about to meet her Prince Charming, then Olivia also believed it was true. She felt a surge of regret that Josh Anderson wasn’t the man of her dreams, but put that feeling down as old habit. She had wanted him to be the man of her dreams for so long, it was hard not to think of him in that context, and she supposed that was really what her mother was worried about. She was afraid that Olivia wouldn’t be able to break the ties. And if she didn’t she would miss out on her real destiny.

Looking at the big picture of her life, and the four wasted years, Olivia had to agree that was probably true. Even if her Prince Charming was around the corner, if she didn’t get away from Josh Anderson, Olivia would never see him.

“Thanks, Mama,” Olivia said. “I’ll call before I leave.”

“Okay, Liv. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mama.”

Olivia hung up the phone with the satisfied, warm feeling she always got after talking with her mother. Though Karen Brady Franklin was definitely opinionated and didn’t hesitate to give voice to her ideas or render her predictions, she had never been a pushy mother. She listened with warm-cookie sympathy to Olivia’s troubles in grade school. She taught Olivia to stand up for herself in middle school. And in high school she taught her to like herself exactly the way she was and to choose the career Olivia wanted, not the one offered by the expert of the moment.

She guided, she didn’t dictate. She listened. She led by example. She let Olivia make her own mistakes and then helped her pick up the pieces with a lesson learned. In Olivia’s eyes she was the perfect mother. And she was also the reason Olivia wanted to have kids herself. She wanted to give the benefit of the same experience to her own child. Both Olivia and Karen knew that if Karen hadn’t waited around for Greg Ruppert, she would have had more children upon whom to lavish love, but because she had waited Olivia didn’t have a sibling. Olivia lost out, Karen lost out. One more reason to heed the advice of a woman who had suffered losses waiting for a man who didn’t want her.

“So, did you talk to your mother?” Josh asked as Olivia stepped into his spotlessly clean red-and-white kitchen.

“Yeah. You were right. She had been a little worried, but I explained the situation to her and she won’t be expecting me or a phone call for a few days.”

“Always good to keep your mother informed,” Josh said. “I ordered pizza. It should be here any minute.”

She smiled. He smiled. For Olivia things began to fall comfortably into place. As long as she remembered her mother’s life, her mother’s warnings, she would get out of this with both her dignity and her sanity.

As they ate, Olivia began to detail her duties, most of which Josh had once performed himself but had forgotten, given that he hadn’t had much contact with them in at least two years. She rattled off a list so long, Josh began to get nervous. But when she described her system of filing documents in her computer and also the hard copies in the cabinets that lined the wall beside her cubicle, Josh felt light-headed. This time he couldn’t blame the feeling on being unreasonably attracted to Olivia. This time the feeling was overwhelm.

He didn’t realize how much work she did and wondered if he wasn’t going to have to replace her with two people.

“Wow,” he said, leaning back on his chair and tossing his paper napkin to the table. “I’m never going to learn all this stuff in a weekend.”

“Sure you will,” Olivia said confidently. “In fact, while I was on the phone with my mother I realized we could make this a lot easier if we just do the training in the office tomorrow. That way I can show you the filing cabinets, show you what’s in the drawers, show you the color-coding system for the different grocery stores, show you the document system in the computer.”

Josh heaved a heavy sigh. “Okay, makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Olivia said, then she yawned. “It does.”

“I’m sorry. You’re tired,” Josh said, rising from his chair. “I’m not a very good host. I hardly ever have people over…especially overnight,” he said, recognizing he was tripping over his tongue to make sure she knew he didn’t have women over often. Actually, he didn’t have women over at all. First, he worked too much. Second, if he was going to sleep with someone he usually preferred her turf. He didn’t like people invading his sanctuary, yet he had invited Olivia without hesitation or consideration. And he wasn’t uncomfortable with her being here.

Puzzled by that notion, Josh led Olivia upstairs. He carried her small suitcase and she brought her overnight bag. He tossed her luggage onto the bed, and then immediately pivoted and left the room, telling Olivia he was going for clean sheets.

He really was going for clean bedclothes, but the truth was he was confused by how intimately he felt about a woman he hardly knew. He wasn’t so blind or so foolish as to dismiss four years of working together for eight hours a day as meaningless, but they’d rarely held personal conversations. He hadn’t told her his deepest, darkest secrets. She hadn’t told him hers. Yet, he felt comfortable letting her into his house. Even reminding himself that he should be more wary if only because of their age difference, he still wasn’t getting qualms of conscience or darts of fear.

Josh liked Olivia a lot more than he realized, but more than that, all this ease had to mean that he trusted her. Pushing himself to the limit on the issue, as he stretched to the top shelf for new—he wasn’t letting her sleep on old—sheets, he realized he would trust her with his life.

That took away some of the incredulity and replaced it with simple curiosity. The only other person he trusted like this was his uncle, Hilton Martin. He didn’t even trust Gina this way.

When he entered the room, Olivia had already stripped the bed of the old linens. The sheets and pillowcases were wadded in a ball on the floor. The blankets and floral comforter lay on the cherry-wood cedar chest at the foot of the bed. She stood with her back to him, staring out the window, waiting for him, and Josh felt a hundred strange sensations. The one that seemed to clamor for more attention than all the rest was an intense desire to kiss her.

Just the thought of kissing her made his lips tingle. All his blood surged to his chest and his heart beat wildly.

He cleared his throat. “Here are the sheets.”

She turned with a smile. “Thanks, you can go. I’ll get this.”

“You sure?” He knew the polite thing to do would be to help her, but red lights and warning signals were flashing in his brain. The polite thing might be to help, but the smart thing would be to run.

Her smile grew. “Of course I’m sure. I’ve made the bed a hundred times.”

He almost asked for whom, as irrational, unwarranted jealousy swept through him. He tried to stop it. He tried to reason it away. In the end, he tossed the linens to the bed and grabbed the fitted sheet and snapped it open.

“Josh, really, I can do this,” Olivia protested, but she giggled as if seeing him doing housework appealed to her.

He gritted his teeth. “I’m fine.”

“Josh, I want to make the bed and take a shower,” she said, then walked over and tried to yank the sheet from his hands. “If you go I can have this done in two minutes.”

“What? And with me here, it will take longer?”

“No,” she said, but she laughed again. At his stupidity, no doubt, because Josh knew he was acting stupid. But whatever her reason for laughing, Josh recognized he couldn’t remember the last time he had heard her laugh. More than that, though, he liked the sound. It warmed him all over.

With that thought, he realized he was staring down at her. She turned her beautiful green-blue eyes up at him, and he noticed that they were standing so close that with one lift of his hand he could be touching her. If he lowered his face just a couple of inches he could be kissing her.

He swallowed.

Two minutes ago he had his first ever thought of kissing her. Now, suddenly, he felt he would die if he didn’t.

Chapter Three

When his gaze stayed on her mouth, Olivia realized Josh was going to kiss her and her breath froze in her throat. Her blood tingled through her veins. Her knees weakened. For four long years she had been waiting for this man to kiss her. Now that the moment had arrived, she savored every second of the exquisite torture of anticipation, stunned that her dreams were about to come true.

But when he returned his gaze to hers, she also saw from the look in his eyes that he was confused about why he wanted to kiss her—confused enough that he didn’t follow through. He didn’t kiss her. He took two paces back and spun away so quickly, Olivia felt a breeze.

“Well, I guess you can handle putting these sheets on by yourself. Good night, Olivia,” he said as he bent to grab the old linens from the floor, and nearly sprinted out of the room.

Olivia collapsed on the bed, wondering what the heck had just happened. He seemed to be seeing her differently, but since he didn’t follow through it also confirmed that he was fighting the fact that the way he saw her was changing. Which meant she couldn’t let the near miss with kissing cloud how she felt about him or her decision to leave. She might have had twenty seconds of glorious anticipation, but for him that “almost kiss” was nothing more than a fleeting, confusing thought.