A Bargain with the Boss (6 page)

Jade's words and attitude were surprising but in some ways admirable. Amber wasn't used to her taking such personal responsibility.

“Okay,” she told her sister. “You can come and stay with me.”

Jade was silent for a moment. “Thank you.”

“We'll figure this out together.”

But Jade was shaking her head. “I'm not looking for you to take over my life.”

Who'd said anything about taking over?

“It's only temporary,” Jade continued. “I'm studying. I'm going to write my GED. Then I'm going to get a proper job.”

Amber could barely believe what she was hearing. “You're working on your GED?”

“I've been working on it for months now.”

The surprises just kept on coming. “Seriously?”

“Why would I joke about that?”

“That's fantastic.” Amber was beyond impressed. “I'll help you. We can—”

“Whoa. You need to dial it down.”

“I didn't mean to dial it up.”

“Giving me a place to stay is great,
really
great. But that's all I need right now.”

Amber forcibly curbed her excitement. But it was the first time Jade had shown an interest in anything but partying, and Amber's hopes were running away with her. A baby was an enormous responsibility. But other single mothers had pulled it off. If Jade could keep up this new attitude, she might have a fighting chance.

Amber couldn't help but smile at the possibilities, even as Jade came back with a warning frown.

* * *

“I thought we'd have him back by now,” Tuck said to Jackson.

It was late-afternoon Tuesday, a week after the New York trip, and the rain was streaming in sheets down the picture window overlooking the river. The two men lounged in the armchair group in the corner of Tuck's office. Tuck's desk was piled with paper and his email in-box was approaching the breaking point. Most of it was bad news, and he was anxious for Dixon's return.

“I thought so, too,” said Jackson. He had one ankle over the opposite knee, his legs clad in black jeans topped with a steel-gray T-shirt. “Your brother's wreaking havoc with my reputation.”

“I know I'm losing faith in you,” said Tuck. “And I'm beginning to consider the wild rumors.”

“That he's a spy?”

“That there's at least something going on that I don't know about.” Tuck didn't believe Dixon had a secret life. But he was all out of reasonable explanations. It had been nearly a month since his brother had disappeared.

“Is there anything we could have missed?” asked Jackson. “Some paper record, a secret email account, a different cell phone?”

“I've searched his office. I've looked through the mansion. I even called Kassandra.”

“You
called
Kassandra?”

“You didn't?”

“Of course I did. But it's my job to chase down every lead.”

“It's my company,” said Tuck. “And it's going rapidly downhill without Dixon.”

“What was your take on Kassandra?” asked Jackson.

“That's she's a selfish, spoiled princess who gambled and lost.” Tuck couldn't help a grim smirk at the memory. Clearly, his former sister-in-law had expected a hefty financial settlement.

“She's holding a grudge,” said Jackson. “Do you think she'd harm him?”

“She probably wants to. But that would require risk and effort. She's lazy.”

“Yeah,” Jackson agreed. “I'm starting to wonder if he was kidnapped.”

Tuck frowned. He'd been picturing Dixon on a tropical beach somewhere. If his brother was in trouble, then Tuck's anger at him was completely misplaced.

“Maybe he was forced to write that letter to your dad,” said Jackson.

“Tell me you're not serious.”

“Who saw him last?”

Tuck nodded to his closed office door, his thoughts moving to Amber. She'd kept him carefully at arm's length since the night in New York, but he was practically obsessing over her.

“His assistant, Amber,” he told Jackson. “He was in the office for a few hours the day he left.”

“Can you call her in?”

“Sure.” Tuck came to his feet. “But I've already pumped her for information. She's the one who gave me his password. He didn't tell her where he was going.”

He crossed to the door and drew it open, walking into the outer office.

Amber was at her desk, profile to him as she typed on the keyboard.

“Can you join us?” he asked.

She stopped typing and glanced up, her blue gaze meeting his. There was a wariness there, which he chalked up to the kisses in New York. Could she tell he wanted to do it again? He was dying to do it again. He feared it was written all over his expression every time he looked her way.

“Sure.” She smoothed out her expression and pushed back her chair.

As usual, her outfit was straitlaced, a navy blazer over a matching pleated skirt and a white blouse. Her spike pumps were bright blue with a slash of white across the toe. They appeared simple by Amber-footwear standards, but they still struck him as sleekly sexy. Or maybe it was only his fevered imagination.

As she rose, he caught a glimpse of lace beneath the neckline of her blouse and his desire went into hyperdrive. He warned himself to bide his time until Dixon returned. When things were back to normal, he'd try approaching her again. Amber would no longer be working for him then.

“What do you need?” she asked as she passed by him.

“Jackson has a couple of questions.” Tuck fell into step behind her.

“What kind of questions?”

“About Dixon.”

She twisted her head, pausing just outside the office door. “What about Dixon?”

Did he detect guilt in her eyes? Was she nervous?

“The usual questions.” He found himself scrutinizing her expression.

“What are the usual questions?”

“Shall we find out?”

“I've told you everything I know.”

“You say that in a way that makes me wonder.”

“Words strung into a sentence make you suspicious?”

“You're jumpy,” he said.

“I'm annoyed.”

“You have no reason to be annoyed.”

“I've got work to do.”

“So do I. And none of our work gets easier until Dixon is back.”

Her eyes narrowed. “He shouldn't be your crutch.”

“He's everybody's crutch. Do you know where he is?”

“No.”

He gestured her forward. “Then, let's go talk to Jackson.”

Amber squared her shoulders and moved into the office.

Jackson rose. “Nice to see you again, Amber.”

“Why do I feel like this is an interrogation?” she asked.

“I have that effect on people,” said Jackson.

“You should stop.” She took one of the armchairs in the grouping.

“I'll keep that in mind.”

For some reason, the exchange grated on Tuck. Jackson wasn't flirting with her. But he was joking with her and Tuck didn't like it.

“Your questions?” he asked Jackson.

Jackson caught his gaze and looked puzzled.

“Sure,” said Jackson, obviously waiting for Tuck to sit down.

Tuck perched on the arm of a chair. He folded his arms over his chest.

It took Jackson a moment to move his attention back to Amber.

“I'm sure you'll agree,” he said to her, “that Dixon has been gone longer than any of us expected.”

“How long did we expect him to be gone?” she asked.

“Did he tell you how long he'd be gone?”

Amber glanced fleetingly at Tuck. “His letter said a month.”

“It's been a month.”

“Almost.”

“No phone call? No postcard?”

“Who sends a postcard these days?”

“People who want you to know they're having a good time and wish you were there.”

Amber's gaze hardened. “I doubt he's having a good time.”

Tuck could almost hear Jackson's senses go on alert.

“Why?” Jackson asked.

“You know about his ex-wife.” Amber wasn't asking a question.

“I do.”

“Then you know he's recovering from her treachery.”

“Treachery?”

“What would you call it?”

“Infidelity.”

“Okay.”

Jackson paused. “What was your relationship with Dixon?”

“Hey,” Tuck protested. “Amber's not on trial.”

Jackson shot him a look of astonishment. “Should I be doing this without you?”

“He was my boss,” said Amber. “Full stop. And if one more person insinuates it was something inappropriate, I'm walking out the door.”

“Who else insinuated that?”

“Back off,” said Tuck. This was getting them nowhere. It was only annoying Amber, and rightly so. He didn't blame her for being ticked off.

“Who else?” asked Jackson.

“Tuck.” She slid him an angry glance.

He held up his hands in surrender. He hadn't considered anything of the sort for quite some time now.

“And Jamison,” said Amber.

Jackson's tone slipped up in obvious surprise. “Jamison thought you were having an affair with his son?”

“Only because Jamison was having an—” Amber snapped her mouth shut.

Jackson blinked.

Tuck rose to his feet.

Amber stiffened her spine.

“You're going to have to finish that sentence,” said Tuck.

She shook her head.

“I insist.”

“We all know what she was going to say,” Jackson said.

“I didn't say it,” said Amber.

“My father was having an affair?”

She glared at Tuck. “Let it go.”

“With who?” he demanded. Tuck's first reaction was that it couldn't be true. Then again, it absolutely could be true. Lots of high-powered, self-gratifying people cheated. Why not his father?

“It's not for me to say,” Amber responded. “I found out by accident. In fact, I don't even know for sure.”

“Who do you suspect?”

Who it was might have no bearing on Dixon's situation. Then again, it might. Had Dixon known about the affair?

“That would be gossip,” said Amber.

“My father is in the hospital. My brother is
missing
. Gossip already.”

She glanced from Tuck to Jackson and back again. “Can I swear you two to secrecy?”

“Amber,”
Tuck all but shouted.

This wasn't a negotiation. There were no conditions. She was answering the question.

“Yes,” said Jackson. He glared at Tuck. “We'll keep it to ourselves. As you say, it's speculation. It would be wrong for us to act on hearsay.”

“Margaret,” said Amber.

“His Margaret?” Tuck asked.

“Who is Margaret?” asked Jackson.

“His assistant,” said Amber.

“But—” Tuck couldn't wrap his head around it. Margaret Smithers could best be described as matronly. She was middle-aged, slightly overweight, her hair was partly gray and her clothes were polyester.

“Expecting a blond supermodel?” asked Amber.

Tuck wasn't about to admit that was true. “I was expecting him to be faithful to my mother.”

“Did Dixon know?” asked Jackson, his thoughts obviously moving along the same lines as Tuck's.

Dixon had just been a victim of infidelity. Finding out about their father might have angered him enough to leave. Tuck couldn't help but wonder if he planned to stay gone.

“No,” said Amber.

“How can you be sure?” asked Tuck. It would at least have been some kind of explanation.

Amber had to think about it for a moment. “I'm as sure as I can be. I didn't figure it out until the heart attack. And Dixon never acted as if he knew.”

“How did you figure it out?” asked Jackson.

“The way Margaret acted when Jamison collapsed,” said Amber. “She mentioned they'd had wine together the night before. Then when she realized what she'd said, she panicked.”

“You were with Jamison when it happened?” asked Jackson.

“I was in his office. He was upset, grilling me about Dixon. When I wouldn't tell him anything, he got really angry.” She fell to silence, and her shoulders drooped. A cloud came over her eyes. “Maybe I should have told...”

Tuck looked to Jackson. Both men waited, but she didn't elaborate.

“Should have told what?” Jackson prompted in a soft voice.

Amber refocused on him. “Nothing.”

“What was he asking?”

“Where Dixon went.”

“But you didn't tell him.”

“No.”

“Tell us.”

She drew back. “I don't know.”

“You just admitted that you did,” said Tuck.

She shook her head in vigorous denial.

“You said maybe you should have told him, but you didn't tell him.”

“That's not what I—”

“No,” said Tuck. He kept his tone carefully even, but inwardly he was furious. She'd been lying to him. She'd watched him struggle all these weeks. She'd pretended to help him, when all the while the solution had been at her fingertips.

“You can't walk it back,” he said. “You know where Dixon went. Tell me. Tell me right this second.”

She compressed her lips, staring at him, her expression a combination of guilt and defiance.

“That's an order,” he said. “Tell me, or you're fired—”

“Tuck,” Jackson cut in.

“No,” said Tuck. “She's sat back and let Tucker Transportation fall down around my ears. She doesn't get to do that and keep her job.”

“I can't,” she protested.

“Then, you're fired.”

Five

T
uck's final words echoed inside Amber's ears.

She put her compact car into Park outside her town house, set the brake and gripped the steering wheel. She was home an hour early, and it felt surreal. The sun was too high in the sky and kids were still playing in the park across the street, whooping it up on the slide and the jungle gym.

Fired. She'd been fired from Tucker Transportation. She had no job. She had no paycheck. Her savings might take her through the next month, but she had mortgage payments, utility payments, phone bills and food bills.

She cursed the new shoes on her feet. She'd worn them for the first time today and she couldn't take them back. Then again, they were gorgeous and they'd been on sale. And, really, how much would a refund help? It would barely fill up her gas tank.

She couldn't waste time worrying about might-have-beens. She had to get it together. She had to start job hunting right away.

The front door opened and Jade stood there, looking out, her rounded belly pressing against an oversize plaid shirt. Amber was reminded that she also had Jade and the baby to worry about. Not that it changed her plans.

She'd update her résumé tonight and get out job hunting first thing tomorrow. It would have been nice to have Dixon as a reference. She sure couldn't use Tuck.

She turned off the engine, trying unsuccessfully to banish his image from her mind. He'd been angry. That much was certainly clear. But he'd looked hurt, too, seeming disappointed that her loyalty was to Dixon. She wished she could have given Tuck what he wanted, but she couldn't serve them both.

She stepped out of the car and waved to Jade as she walked up the stepping-stones. The sage and asters were barely hanging on. The other blooms had faded away, and only the leaves remained. October was not exactly a cheerful month.

As she approached the door, she pasted a smile on her face. “How are you feeling?”

“Huge.”

Amber widened her smile at the joke.

“I made an appointment at the community clinic,” said Jade, as she stepped back from the doorway.

“That's good.” Amber had been insistent that Jade get proper medical care. “When is the appointment?”

“I told them my due date and they got me in tomorrow.”

Amber glanced at Jade's stomach. “I guess they know there's no time to waste.”

“Being pregnant is not an illness.”

“But you want a healthy baby.”

“Oof.” Jade's hand went to her stomach. “This one's healthy, all right. It's got a kick like a soccer player.”

“I can drive you to the appointment,” said Amber. She'd be happier if she heard firsthand what the doctor had to say.

“I can take the bus.”

Amber dumped her purse and headed for the living room. “It's no trouble. I can afford to take a little time off.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Amber would be taking more than just a little time off. But she didn't see any need to say so immediately. Hopefully, she'd have a new job lined up before she had to share the news about losing this one.

“Are you hungry?” she asked Jade.

“I made macaroni casserole.”

Amber couldn't hide her surprise. “You cooked?”

Not that macaroni casserole was exactly gourmet, but Jade had never been handy in the kitchen, nor particularly self-motivated when it came to household chores.

Jade grinned proudly as they walked to the kitchen. “It's all ready to pop into the oven.”

“That sounds delicious. Thanks.”

Jade turned on the oven while Amber set out plates and cutlery and let her optimism build. She had five solid years of work at Tucker Transportation. She'd built up her administrative skill set, and surely that would be transferable to any number of companies. Maybe she could gloss over her reasons for leaving. She might even be able to use Margaret as a reference.

She hoped Tuck wouldn't be vindictive and spread word around the company that she was fired. But she really had no idea how he'd handle it. He was pretty angry right now.

There was a sudden knock on the front door.

“Expecting someone?” asked Jade.

“Not me. You?”

“Nobody knows I'm here.”

Amber went for the door, suspecting it was a neighbor, maybe Sally Duncan from next door. She was on the town-house council and loved to complain. Perhaps old Mr. Purvis was barbecuing on his patio again.

Amber had voted to repeal the prohibition on barbecues at the last council meeting. Sure, the smoke was annoying. But who in their right mind would ban hot dogs and hamburgers?

She swung open the door, startled to find Tuck standing on her porch. He was frowning, eyes narrowed. Worry immediately clenched her stomach.

“What do you want?” she asked him.

“To talk.”

“I have nothing else to say.”

“After you left, Jackson pointed out the error of my ways.”

She didn't want to hope. But she couldn't help herself. Was Tuck offering her job back?

“I came here to give you another chance,” he said.

She waited.

“You being gone helps neither of us,” he said.

She had to agree with that. But she doubted he cared about helping her.

“Another chance to what?” she prompted.

“What can you tell me about Dixon?”

“I've told you everything—”

“Well, hello there.” Jade arrived, breaking in with a breezy tone. “Are you one of Amber's neighbors?”

Tuck's brow shot up as he took in the pregnant Jade.

“He's my boss,” said Amber, instantly realizing it was no longer true. But before she could correct the statement, Jade was talking again.

“Really? Very nice to meet you. I'm Amber's sister, Jade.” Jade stuck out her hand.

“Jade, this really isn't a good time.”

“Tuck Tucker,” said Tuck as he shook Jade's hand.

“Are you hungry?” asked Jade.

“No, he's not,” Amber quickly responded.

“I need to borrow your sister for a few minutes,” Tuck said to Jade.

“Does she need to go back to work?” asked Jade.

“No,” Tuck and Amber answered simultaneously.

“I just need to speak with her,” said Tuck.

“Oh,” said Jade, glancing between them, obviously picking up on their discomfort. “Then, I'll leave you two alone.”

As Jade withdrew, Amber moved onto the porch, pulling the door closed behind her. It was cold outside, but she wanted to get this over with.

“The job market's very tight out there,” said Tuck.

“Are you trying to frighten me?”

“I'm asking you to be realistic. I need to talk to my brother.”

“I promised him I wouldn't tell a soul. That included his family.”

“So you admit you know where he is.”

“I don't know with any certainty where he is.”

“Why are you talking in riddles?”

She reached behind herself for the doorknob. “I've told you what I can.”

“I can't imagine Dixon wants you to be fired.”

“I can't imagine he does, either.”

Dixon had always given her top-notch performance evaluations. He'd praised her work, often saying he didn't know how he'd live without her. She liked to think he wouldn't want her fired.

“Don't make me do it,” said Tuck.

“I'm not
making
you do anything.”

“Ignoring an order is gross insubordination.”

“Betraying a confidence is worse.”

He leaned in. “Circumstances have changed since you made that promise.”

She knew they had. But she also knew Dixon's doctor had told him to get away from the pressures of Tucker Transportation.

“Amber.” Tuck reached out, his hand encircling her upper arm. “I
need
this, please.”

His touch brought a rush of memories—the strength of his embrace, the taste of his lips and the scent of his skin. Suddenly, she was off balance, and she felt herself sway toward him. Her hand moved to steady herself, her palm coming up against his chest.

He groaned deep in his throat. “I don't want to fight with you.”

She jerked her hand away, but he was faster, engulfing it in his own, pressing it firmly back against his chest.

His tone was gravelly. “Don't make me fight with you.”

She battled the desire rising in her body. She wanted nothing more and nothing less than to collapse into Tuck's arms and kiss him until every other thought was driven from her brain.

She met his gaze. “I've told you everything I can.”

His expression turned mocking. “And you
still
claim there's nothing going on between you and Dixon.”

“I'll claim it as many times as it takes. It's the truth.”

“Yet you'll give up your job for him?”

“I'll give up my job for a principle.”

He tugged her closer, voice going quiet. “You sure about that?”

She enunciated each syllable. “Positive.”

He kissed her.

She was so surprised that she didn't fight it. Her lips were pliable under his—soft, welcoming—and, for a second, she kissed him back. Her brain screeched at her to stop. But his embrace was oddly comforting. His kiss was tender. And the warmth of his chest seemed to make its way into her heart.

Then reason asserted itself. She forced herself to push against him, staggering back and thudding against the closed door. They stared at each other. Her chest rose and fell with labored breaths.

“I had to be sure,” he said.

“Sure of
what
?”

“That you're not in love with my brother.”

“Go away.” She scrunched her eyes shut to block him out. “Just go away, and stay gone. I think I might hate you.”

He didn't make a sound.

After a moment, she opened one eye. His back was to her and he was halfway down the path, striding toward a sleek black sports car.

Thank goodness he was leaving. Thank goodness he was out of her life. She could get a new job. She
would
get a new job. The last place on earth she wanted to be was working for Tuck.

The door opened behind her.

“Amber?” Jade's voice was hesitant.

“Yes.” Amber shook some sense into herself.

“Your boss is your boyfriend?”

Amber turned. “What? No.”

“You just kissed him.”

“That?” Amber waved it away. “That was nothing. He was being a jerk, is all. He fired me.”

“He
what
?”

“We had a disagreement. No. More a difference of opinion. I'd call it a difference of principles and values. He's not a man I want to work for.” Amber paused. “I'm fine with the way things turned out.”

She was fine. At least she would be fine.

“What will you do?” There was worry in Jade's expression.

Amber linked her arm with her sister's and moved them both inside. “I'll get another job. This was a good job, but it's not the only job. I have skills and experience. Maybe I'll even make more money.”

“You sound confident.”

“I
am
confident.”

Maybe her leaving Tucker Transportation was inevitable. Jamison had most certainly planned to fire her before his heart attack. If she looked at it like that, she'd actually been granted an extra month with Tuck at the helm. But it was doomed to end one way or the other.

Dixon would eventually come back and he'd probably take her side. But Jamison was the president of the company. Eventually, he'd recover fully and overrule Dixon. And with Tuck now on Jamison's side... Well, this was definitely the time for her to move on.

* * *

Tuck's workload had gotten completely out of control. Without Amber as the gatekeeper, he was inundated with problems, big and small. He had a temporary assistant, Sandy Heath, borrowed from the finance department, but she mostly just asked him a lot of questions, slowing him down instead of speeding him up.

Jackson had followed a new dead-end lead to Cancún, and another manager had resigned this morning. They were bleeding employees. His father's recovery was going more slowly than expected. Jamison might not return to work at all.

“Sandy?” Tuck called through the open door.

“Yes?”

He could hear her stand and move to the door.

“Is Lucas Steele on his way up?”

Sandy paused in the doorway. “I don't know.”

Tuck took a beat. “Could you find out?”

“Sure.”

Tuck glanced at his watch to confirm the time. “Did you tell him ten?”

“I believe so. I mean, I called when you asked me to. But I got his voice mail.”

“Did you try his assistant?”

Sandy paused. “I'll do that now.”

“Great.” Just great. Tuck couldn't even get his operations director into his office when they only worked three floors apart.

He came to his feet. “Never mind.”

She looked puzzled. “You don't want Lucas?”

“I'll go down.”

“I can—”

“I'll find him.”

“I'm sorry.”

Tuck relaxed his expression. “Don't worry about it.”

There was no point in being annoyed with Sandy because she wasn't Amber. Only Amber was Amber, and she was ridiculously good at her job.

He went to the elevator and rode down to twenty-nine. The hallway on that floor was linoleum rather than carpet. The offices were smaller than on the executive floor, and there was far more activity. It was the nerve center of the company, where every company conveyance was tracked on a series of wall-mounted screens, with information on every single shipment available with a few keystrokes. Tuck had come to like it here.

Lucas's office was at the far end of the hallway. It was large but utilitarian, its numerous tables cluttered with maps and reports, keyboards and screens. Tuck knew Lucas had a desk in there somewhere, but he wasn't sure the man ever sat down.