The Billionaire's Runaway Fiancée by Jenna Bayley-Burke
Copyright © 2017 by Jenna Bayley-Burke. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Chapter One
“You’re late.”
Robyn Tindall stared at the back of the tremendous leather office chair. Since it just barked at her, she assumed someone sat there, but it was too big to be sure.
Wiping her damp palms against her black skirt, she took a deep breath. The temporary employment agency had warned her Golden City’s CEO burned through executive assistants daily. She got a full day’s pay no matter how long he kept her. So far, no one had made it to their coffee break. Robyn had no intention of kowtowing to someone who would fire her within the hour.
“Your clock’s off. My agency was told eight, and according to my watch I’m thirty-two seconds early.”
The black chair turned slowly, revealing the most gorgeous man she’d seen off a movie screen. Deep brown hair, a strong uncompromising jaw, and black-fringed eyes that sparkled a surprising aquamarine. She’d expected a crotchety old man. Her pulse jackhammered as a smile played on her lips. Too bad he didn’t have the same response.
“You think that’s funny?”
Oh damn. She’d make the record for being fired the fastest. She cleared her throat. “Where would you like me to start?”
“I don’t know. It’s your job, not mine.” He spoke with a mocking slowness that made her wonder if he was teasing or truly an ass.
“There’s a desk in front of your office door. I’m guessing that would belong to your assistant.”
“It did until two months ago when she retired.”
“She didn’t train someone before she left?” He must have run her off, too.
“There was no time. Her daughter adopted triplets, and if anyone can schedule three babies, it’s Carla.”
“She’s not coming back?”
He raised a straight eyebrow. “I’ve seen them. They’re cuter than me.”
Robyn smiled, doubting looks had anything to do with it. He wasn’t cute by any means. Handsome, jaw dropping, mouthwatering. Robyn sucked in a cooling breath and dragged her mind out of the gutter.
“And you have no idea what it was she did for you.” Fan-freaking-tastic. No wonder he’d been so short with the parade of assistants who’d been through the revolving door. Carla had made it seem effortless, so he didn’t consider it a demanding job.
“Not the first clue.” The sensual promise of his smile surprised her.
She pushed her wire-rimmed glasses tighter against her face, reminding herself men like him did not look at girls like her that way. He probably dated models and debutantes. Her last boyfriend had been a house painter.
“I’ll check out the desk and see what I can decipher.”
“Don’t bother. You’re not what I need.”
He turned to his computer and began to work. Robyn blinked and checked her watch. She’d been fired after one minute on the job. That had to be a record, and not one she had any intention of making. She’d never been fired before, and this clown wouldn’t break her streak, no matter how handsome or dynamic he seemed.
With a shake of her head, she turned on her heel, making sure to close the door behind her. She had half a mind to finish the day to teach Mr. Boss Man to give people a chance before dismissing them on sight. She didn’t even want this job. The temp agency hoped she could mollify him until they found the ideal candidate and found her the event-planning position they’d promised in July, when she’d given up on finding a job on her own. Three months and still nothing.
She had a marketing degree for goodness’ sake. Not that she’d used it yet, but she had ideas brewing for corporate events that would wow someone, anyone, if they cared to give someone without job experience an interview.
With a huff of breath, Robyn plopped down into the adjustable desk chair and surveyed the mess that lay in stark contrast to the pristine office. Curtis Frye’s inner sanctum was decorated in the same style as the other two floors of Golden City Property Development offices she had been led through like Charlie through the Chocolate Factory. Everything echoed money and success, from sleek computer systems and black leather armchairs to the giant windows and Ansel Adams prints in heavy black frames. With as many walls as were in this company, she guessed they’d bought every photograph the man had ever taken.
They shouldn’t have bothered with the art—the breathtaking view impressed and inspired. From this high up in San Francisco’s financial district, you could see all the buildings in town. Working late would become a treat. The skyline lit up would make it worth the extra time.
Just like the other desks she’d seen, chrome and glass stretched before her now. Terribly ineffective. No one could hide chocolate in this place. Pushing her feet against the thick charcoal carpet, she propelled herself toward the bank of black filing cabinets, staying seated as she tugged on the drawers. The bottom one opened, empty save for a black binder labeled Duties.
With a sigh of relief, Robyn dropped her purse inside the cabinet and lifted the binder. Either Frye’s assistant didn’t do much, or she’d been so busy she’d never had time to type up more than the single-spaced page outlining everything required before Mr. Frye’s eight a.m. conference call. She’d been getting up mighty early if she’d had to do all that.
Still, it was better than being unemployed. With no other way to make rent in too-expensive San Francisco than to accept the temp jobs, Robyn had learned a thing or three about adapting quickly.
The desk was piled high with memos and files, random faxes and reports. Thanks to her parents’ real estate company back home, she knew the basics of the business. By the time her stomach growled, she’d sorted everything and round-filed most of it. She procured the key to the filing cabinets from the metallic cup holding pens atop the desk and took care of everything but the few items she wasn’t sure if Mr. Frye had cared enough to cast his eyes on.
“What have you done?” His tone was as harsh as a whip, stinging her pride. He loomed over the desk, his face tight with irritation.
“You’re welcome.” Robyn smiled brightly.
His dark brows shot up, and her smile widened. This man needed to be taken down a few pegs.
“I’m going to head out for my lunch hour. I’ll tackle the computer when I get back.” She grabbed her handbag, but Curtis stood between her desk and the door to the outer office. For an instant, she thought about trying to run around the other side of the desk to get past him.
“Why are you still here?” he said in spite of his clenched jaw.
“You called the agency and said you needed help. Voila.” Robyn lifted her arm like a spokesmodel selling a sedan.
“I told you to go. You’ll be paid for your time.”
“About that,” she started brightly. “You can’t fire me, since you never actually hired me. If the agency is going to pay me for a day’s work, I’ll do the work.”
He glanced over her shoulder at the clean desk. “What did you do with everything?”
“Filed it, except for these.” She handed him the papers. “I noticed you usually initial memos before they are filed, so I held these back.”
He leafed through them, his eyes widening as he read one. “This is a month old.”
Robyn bit back the smart reply she itched to give him. She’d made her point.
With a huff, he leaned across the desk and plucked a pen from the cup to initial the pages. Robyn’s mouth went dry at the sheer proximity of him. She gave herself a mental shake. This would not do. She’d never been attracted to someone she worked with before. Taking him up on his offer to fire her would save her from any awkwardness that might come from fantasizing about her boss. She opened her mouth to tell him she wouldn’t be coming back, but before she could utter a sound, he straightened up and spoke.
“You really want to be my secretary?”
Jolly holly sticks, did people really use that term anymore? “Executive assistant.”
He had the nerve to roll his eyes. “You really want to be my executive assistant?”
“No. I want to be an event planner, but nothing like that has come up.” She’d spent the whole summer jumping from job to job every week, covering vacations for a multitude of people in different careers while she sent out résumés.
His lips tilted in a grin. “Are you always this honest?”
“Of course. If you play games, someone has to be the loser. Better to say what you mean.”
“Honesty is very important to me. But I don’t think you are right for this job.”
Robyn nodded, glad she’d set a record by making it to lunch. And the next person who came in would have a better shot since the desk had been cleared.
He stared out the window like he’d never seen the view before, the silence growing awkward before he spoke. “You’ll stay on until I find someone with experience, or until you find your event-planning job. Agreed?” He held out his hand to her.
Her palm slid against his, tingling as his hand closed over hers in a squeeze of affirmation. Sensations whirled through her like a hurricane, her insides quaking so hard she could barely manage to shake his hand. He relaxed his grip, slipping from her grasp.
“It’s settled then. I’ll see you after lunch.” He turned, marched back to his office, and closed his door.
Robyn wilted, grabbing the chair for support. If she reacted this way to a simple touch, she really should refuse the offer—walk away before someone got hurt. Like her.
…
Curtis stared at the résumé the agency had faxed over, trying to do the math to figure out whether his new assistant was even legal to drink. He needed someone with enough life experience not to be rattled by the unexpected, and they sent him an adolescent.
Maybe. She could be as much as twenty-two. Discrimination laws obliged him not to ask. Little Miss Sunshine certainly took to the paperwork quickly, and she had tenacity. He needed someone dedicated, hardworking, and above all, trustworthy. Young people had a tendency to say more than they needed to, and that could blow a deal. He winced—he was thinking like one of the seventy-year-old board members, and he was half that old.
Curtis heaved a heavy sigh, tossing the fax into the trash. She’d bail soon enough. Most of his assistant’s workload had been parceled out to the rest of the support staff. Once Robyn had the full picture of the duties required, she wouldn’t be so eager. But in the meantime, she’d earned her chance. Anyone that determined deserved a fair shake.
Curtis lifted the phone from its cradle and punched in the numbers for the staffing agency, telling them Robyn would stay on until they found him someone with actual experience. If Robyn did well, he’d recommend her for a job here at Golden in whatever department handled event planning.
Whether she opted out or he moved her to another department, she wouldn’t work for him long. Couldn’t. She set him off-kilter, looked at him in a way that wasn’t entirely appropriate and yet was completely innocent. He had a knack for knowing how people would react before they did, but she’d completely surprised him today. He did not like surprises.
…
Once Robyn got things sorted, she found the systems were well organized, and it took her only a few weeks to get Mr. Frye’s life back to normal. The rest of the administrative team eased her into her position, handing tasks back one at a time. As she went, she finished writing the manual his last assistant had started. Hopefully, it would keep him from having to go through a blip like this again.
By November she’d learned everything he needed. Which newspapers he took—she separated out the front page and business section for him to read on the treadmill, how he liked his coffee—Americano every hour from eight until noon. Lunch was delivered then—soup in paper cups so he could drink without having to stop working.
The job of his executive assistant was to do everything to make sure he could work as much as possible. She paid his bills, so she knew his social security number, bank accounts, and birthday. Learning he was a Gemini cleared up so many things.
Curtis was actually his middle name, but she never asked him why he’d ditched a strong name like Jason. His clothes were ordered every season, but Robyn did have to trek down to Needless Markup with his credit card to pick up his wardrobe. The lot of it barely fit in her compact sedan.
A hairstylist came every three weeks and did something to his hair during a conference call with his partners in New York, but she never knew what. His hair always looked exactly the same. The day-to-day matters of his life took a back seat to his business.
He didn’t take a moment for himself, but he did make time for others. Every month, his mother phoned in charity events he needed to attend and to schedule the family dinner. He’d rearranged a meeting in Prague just so he could have dinner with his parents.
Her parents had been so impressed she was working for Golden City and Curtis Frye. He’s brilliant, they’d told her. Shrewd, aggressive, insightful, sure to be one of the biggest real estate moguls the country had ever known by the end of the decade. But at what cost?
By the time the employment agency came through with the event-planning job she’d waited for, she’d already appointed herself in charge of making sure Curtis Frye was taken care of. Not just his coffee, suits, and travel arrangements. She tried to get him to play more golf, telling him it was a great way to network when she really wanted him to experience the stress relief of the exercise. She arranged for him to have no meetings on his birthday. Granted, he used the day to catch up on paperwork, but he went home in the daylight with a smile on his face. She couldn’t leave him now. He needed her.
It had taken the better part of a year to get him to soften his tone, first with her and then with others. The man who’d hired her eight months ago didn’t use please and thank you, had never praised her for catching mistakes or coming in on a Saturday. Every day he became more pleasant than the last until they worked in harmony and had actual conversations when he came in to work. Wonderful and wretched at the same time because, as he grew more open, her attraction had bloomed into a full-on crush. And there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. He’d never given her even a glimmer of hope. Which was how it should be, but a silly part of her wanted…things she could never have.
“Robyn, when you have a minute, I need to ask you something.” Curtis hadn’t bothered with the squawky intercom like he used to.
She saved the spreadsheet her mind had wandered away from and headed toward his office, straightening her pantsuit as she went. Dressing for work made her uncomfortable, always aware that by buying secondhand she might be wearing a co-worker’s castoffs. The complete opposite of Curtis, who replaced his entire wardrobe every season. She clasped her hands behind her back, awaiting his latest errand. Would it be dry cleaning or trading his cell phone for the latest model again?
He’d looked up when she entered but finished his call. She didn’t mind waiting at all. It allowed her to drink in the sight of him, all put together and perfect in his ice-blue shirt and silver tie. He’d rolled up the sleeves like he always did this time in the afternoon, his cufflinks beside him on his desk along with his watch. He didn’t usually take it off, which meant she’d be headed to the jeweler for repair. Hopefully, he didn’t want her to stay until it was fixed. She’d hate to miss Chinese takeout night with her roommates and the only man in her life, General Tso.
She stepped to his desk and reached for his watch, but he slid his hand over hers to stop her. Only the heat of his touch spun her mind through fairy-tale fantasies of being swept off her feet, right into her own personal happily ever after. A very satisfying, adult version of happily ever after. She pressed her thighs together as he ended his phone call, and her fantasy.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t think you’d come so quickly.” He gifted her with an irresistible smile that brightened his ever-changing blue eyes. Some days dark, some light, and when he wore gray she’d swear they were green. “I’m not sending you on an errand. I have a proposition for you.”
Did he have to say proposition like he was about to ask her for the real thing? Gadzooks, her hormones were out of control today.
“I overheard you inquiring about an event-planning job, and I know you intended to go into that field. But you are very good at what you do.” His disarming grin softened his features, making him even more handsome than before. “I’d like for you to stay here at Golden and work for me, not the agency. We’ll compensate you for giving up the opportunity, and you’ll be eligible for profit sharing at the end of the year.”
“That would be nice.” Being hired on by the company meant security, benefits, and not having to worry about making rent. She drew a circle in the lush carpet with the toe of her boot. She considered telling him she’d already extended her assignment with the agency, but she liked being appreciated, noticed by him at all.
“We’ll double your salary and lease you a car for errands.”
The shock of his offer hit her full force. She plopped down into the leather chair opposite his desk. “Excuse me?”
“We couldn’t do the car until you were a Golden employee. It’s an insurance nightmare.” He gave a half shrug as if he hadn’t given her more than she could win on the gameshows her grandmother loved.
“You’re doubling my salary and buying me a car?” She brushed a wayward wisp of brown hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.
Robyn wore her giddy smile, the one where her tongue poked from between her teeth. Her features seemed too large for her face until she smiled, then everything came together perfectly. She looked like she’d won the lottery.
“Leasing. I’m sorry you’re so shocked. I must not have done a very good job of communicating how much I recognize the value of what you’ve done these last few months. You’re a fantastic assistant, and I want to make sure you stay with Golden.”
She blinked, her green eyes glazing over behind her thick glasses. Her nose and mouth wouldn’t seem so large if the lenses didn’t shrink her eyes. Always keeping her long hair pulled back in a barrette at the nape of her neck didn’t help, either.
Curtis clenched his fists beneath his desk. It did not matter what his assistant looked like, nor what she could look like if she tried. She was terrific at making his life easier, and she was one of the few people who’d earned his trust by passing small tests he’d given her with credit cards and sensitive business information. If he gave her enough, maybe she wouldn’t sell him out the way everyone else did.
“I know changing your career path wasn’t in your plans, but I am sure working here at Golden offers many opportunities for growth.”
“I don’t know what to say.” She wore a dazed look as her fingers tapped against her long neck.
Neither did he, and things were getting a tad uncomfortable. Behind her lenses her green eyes had gone glassy, like she might try to hug him. He couldn’t let that happen. “It’s Friday, so you could say you’ll see me first thing Monday morning.”
“Except you’ll be in Los Angeles on Monday. You fly out Sunday at two. The tickets are in your portfolio. Your housekeeper has your bag packed, and the town car has been ordered to pick you up.”
“Is there anything you haven’t thought of?”
Robyn popped up from her chair, smoothing her hands down her black trousers. She always wore black. Her cheeks tightened as she tried not to smile. “I haven’t thought what kind of car I’ll lease.”
…
Curtis set the phone in its cradle and pulled in a deep breath to cool the fire burning in his gut. Omissions were the first sign a person couldn’t be trusted. He needed to confront her, gauge her reaction, and odds were good he needed to find another assistant. Just great.
He spun his chair to face the bank of windows that made up one wall of his office. Streaks of red traced the rooftops of the buildings as the sun set on a day he wished he could rewind. Hell, he needed to rewind the last eight months.
Closing his eyes, he let his aching head rest against the chair and gripped the armrests. When he’d overheard Robyn on the phone last week, asking questions about a job the employment agency had for her, panic had iced through him. Not at the thought of having to replace her, but because he didn’t want to.
He liked her, a little more all the time. More than he should, more than was appropriate for an employee. He thought they were friends, that he could trust her. Apparently not.
With a shake of his head, he turned back to his desk, not sure where to start. He had to talk to Robyn first thing Monday and find out if he was back on the executive assistant merry-go-round. His meetings next week needed to be rescheduled, his flight and hotel cancelled, both of which Robyn would have handled. Passing the job along to one of the other partners’ assistants on a Friday evening would make him king of all assholes, but he forwarded the request anyway.
One meeting wasn’t on his Golden City agenda. If it were any other day but Monday, he’d borrow the family jet and make a day trip out of it. He’d known the other men from Professor Gibbon’s Investment Club since grad school, and with as many favors as the others had done for him over the years, he hated to cancel. He pushed a hand through his hair, hating how much Robyn’s betrayal affected him. He should just fire her and move on, but he wanted there to be an explanation so life could stay business as usual.
Brandon Knight, the financier who’d arranged the meeting, would not understand why he’d cancel a meeting over an assistant. He’d say to replace her and be done with it. In fact, Curtis would bet his share of their next dividend none of them would. Except maybe one.
Curtis scrolled through the contacts on his personal cell phone until he found who he was looking for. The CEO of Strong Gyms International answered on the third ring.
“Hey, Curtis. You calling in a favor? I do owe you one for consulting on that real estate acquisition.” The tone of David Strong’s voice had brightened recently, probably the influence of his new fiancée. Which was why David was Curtis’s one shot at understanding his situation with his assistant. Not that he and Robyn were sleeping together.
He tugged at his shirt collar and cleared his throat. “If we’re counting, you owe me three. But I have a way for you to wipe the slate clean.”
“Why do you sound like you’re trying to swindle me into something?” He gave a short laugh. David had never really been much of a laugher before.
“I’m not selling you anything, just asking a favor.” Though even asking did make him feel sneaky. “Are you going to the meeting Brandon’s having in L.A. next week?”
“Hell no. He knows my opinion on buying that set of hotels.”
“That it’s a rebranding nightmare? Not to mention the liens from the lawsuits? I can’t understand why he’s so interested in Carlton Hotels. He knows I think it’s a waste of money.”
“Personally, I think he’s buying them anyway and wants to ask for help in flipping them. He’s still young enough to burn capital, I guess.”
In any other situation, Curtis would go to the meeting, ready to show Knight how much he stood to lose. Guilt crept in, tightening his shoulders. “You ought to go. Hand him a pepperoni and pineapple pizza and ask what Gibbons would say about the project.”
David chuckled so long Curtis joined in. It did make quite the image, their laid-back finance professor had a way of breaking things down to the basics, including teaching the men he’d invited into the club how to invest.
“You know what he’d say?” David asked. “Who’s the girl?”
“Damn right. Ugh, you don’t think it’s that reality show girl with the naked pictures, do you?” Brandon always steered clear of relationships. They had that in common.
“Nah. He has that blonde who hovers. The one he swears is just a friend. I’m not saying he’s thinking with the wrong head, but Gibbons would. So, why are you asking me to take your place at this shit show?”
“I haven’t asked yet.” Was he really that transparent over the phone?
“It’s all over your voice. Why can’t you go?”
“I have an important meeting on Monday I can’t reschedule.” Completely true. He demanded honesty in all things, of himself most of all.
“Yeah, I’m not buying that any more than he would. You know the rule, if you say you’re showing up, you show up. What’s the actual reason?”
In for a penny, in for a pound. “My assistant lied to me. I need to find out why.”
“The one from the temp agency? Send her back to them and get a new one. It’s not worth the hassle.”
“It is to me.” He rubbed at the tension on the back of his neck, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Hell, you’re not dipping your pen in company ink, are you? Are you trying to get sued?”
“No, it’s not like that.” He couldn’t blame his friend for not understanding, he could barely comprehend it. “I just need her to explain why she did it.”
“It is like that, otherwise why would you care?” David’s tone darkened all the way back to the place it used to live.
His pulse jumped and took off in a run. “I thought we’d become friends. It’s out of character for her.”
“You know men and women can’t be friends. Hell, I tried to be Sophie’s friend, and now I’m spending my Friday night looking at wedding invitation samples.”
“You love it,” a female voice came from somewhere.
“David, am I on speaker?” Great. Now Sophie would want to talk to him about it the next time he was in Portland.
“Yeah, be happy about it. She thinks you’re being a good friend, so I’m going to the meeting. For the record, I think this is a horrible idea. Don’t get involved on a personal level with an employee.”
“I’m not crossing any lines here.” It was the truth. But as he signed off with David, a sliver of doubt slipped into his mind. He couldn’t tamp down the feeling that she’d betrayed his trust. This was business, not personal, and yet he hated thinking he’d been wrong about her. The sooner he found out the truth, the better.
…
Acid bit at Robyn’s stomach as the elevator climbed the floors to the office. All weekend she’d felt horrible. The low-level hum of guilt she’d felt when leaving the office on Friday had intensified every hour until she was sure she’d go crazy before Curtis returned on Wednesday.
She should have told him she’d declined another assignment from the agency and planned to stay on for as long as she could. She’d been caught up in the idea that he wanted her, even if only as an assistant. She had to tell him before the company paid her for choosing a new career path. Accepting it would be akin to stealing. Dishonesty always made her uncomfortable. Her sisters made fun of how even secrets like who was having a party or cheated on a test weren’t safe with her. It hadn’t made her popular in school, which left her planning the dances instead of attending them, but she’d told herself she didn’t mind so long as she was involved. She’d grown up in a small town, where everyone knew everyone else from the sandbox and dating was darned near incestuous anyway, so she’d waited to find her Prince Charming when she made it to college in the city.
But school had been filled with men prone to taking advantage of her openness, rather than appreciating it. She’d been as lonely there as she’d been at home until she’d moved into an apartment with two culinary students. Fantastic friends, but their companionship showed on her hips. She dressed completely in black, which she hoped was slimming. Keeping her wardrobe monochromatic was cheaper, for sure.
Robyn took off her glasses and rubbed the tension from her eyes as the elevator dinged. She made her way off and straight into the last person she expected to see.
“Mr. Frye!” They both froze in a moment of stunned silence.
“Miss Tindall.” His gaze cut her as sharp as a scalpel.
“What are you doing here?” Robyn struggled with her glasses, missing her ear the first time.
“I work here.” The chill in his voice made her shudder.
“Of course. I meant in the office. You have meetings in Los Angeles.”
“I moved them. Will you come to my office, please?”
He knew, she could tell by the cutting tone in his voice, his stiff posture. He knew and was disappointed in her. But he’d never be more disappointed than she was of herself. Head down, she followed him, laying her purse on her desk as she went. Nothing good ever came from lying. Omitting. Whatever. Which was why she never did it. Until Friday, when she’d gotten greedy for his interest. He’d been so charming, so appreciative, that she couldn’t get enough of his attention.
The tears started before she even sat down. The hot wash of frustration and fear flooded her cheeks, and she couldn’t do anything to make it stop. Some women had a feminine cry, but Robyn had seen herself in a mirror mid-fit, and she knew what she looked like. Red, runny nose, pink, puffy eyes, splotchy face. She took off her glasses and pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes, hoping the pressure would stop the flow like it would on a wound.
It was no wonder Curtis Frye never saw her, no man ever saw her. She was a mess. An anxious bundle of nerves and rules, and look at that—black smudges on her hands from the mascara she wore to try to make her eyes show up through the distorted curve of her glasses.
“I’m going to have to ask you to stop crying.” Curtis held out a box of tissues. She plucked a few out, doing her best to clean herself up.
“I’m sorry.” Her breath hitched, and she pressed her teeth together to stop her chin from trembling.
“Yes, well. I don’t know what to do with tears. I didn’t—I mean, I only asked you to come to my office.” He grimaced.
Robyn shook her head. “Good granny, this is not going well.”
“I agree.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the edge of his desk.
She looked up at his face, the tense set of his jaw, the worried look in his eye. She should have taken the other job. Staying here was pure torture. Working this closely with a man she’d fallen for more every day, who couldn’t even see her…it was pathetic.
“I lied to you. On Friday.” She sniffled, trying to get over the tears and through this conversation with some modicum of dignity. “I let you think I was taking the event-planning job when I had already decided to stay on here. I should have told you the moment you said I’d be compensated for changing career paths. I hope you can stop the deposit before they send it to my account. If it’s too late, I’ll pay it right back.” She let out a deep breath, not feeling half as relieved as she expected to.
He blinked, uncrossing his arms and setting his hands beside him on the desk. “I’m not sure what to say.”
“I shouldn’t work here.” A lump swelled in her throat, choking her.
“Excuse me?” He furrowed his brow, the corners of his mouth dropping into a frown.
“Something’s happened here, something that I can’t seem to get past. I barely recognize myself. It’s best if the agency finds a replacement.” Her stomach ached, and her eyes felt heavy again.
“Have I done something?” He sat in the chair beside her, leaning close.
“No, you’re perfect.” I’m the one who is messing everything up.
“Is this about another employee here? I’ll reassign whoever is upsetting you. Fire them if I need to.”
“No.” Her words were barely more than a whisper. She could never let him know she’d fallen in love with him. She couldn’t bear for him to look at her with pity, or worse, amusement.
“I was going to ask you about why you didn’t tell me you’d declined the other job offer, and you outed yourself. I admire that kind of honesty. You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had, and I’ll do anything to keep you with me.”
If only he meant with me, the way she wanted to be with him. “Still—”
“Robyn?” He waited for her to look at him, their gazes locking together like the final piece of a puzzle. “Do you like working here with me?”
“Very much.” There was that honesty kick again, kicking her in the butt.
His voice softened, almost intimate. “Then give me his name. It will be handled by the end of the day.”
“Frye!” A voice boomed from the doorway. “What is wrong with the weather in this town! How can you people claim to live in California when I need a sweater in summer?”
“Alan, come in.” Curtis ushered in his first meeting while mouthing the words we’re not done to Robyn.
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