Expecting the Boss’s Baby (2 page)

I am not going to let him get to me.
She eased free of his grip and smoothed the thick curls that fell below her shoulders. “I always wanted to be a redhead. Now I am.” Like most of her decisions, she'd made it on the fly Thursday, after her interview with Dax Girard, when she went in for a cut. She'd stared at her reflection in her hairdresser's mirror and decided she was beyond tired of having brown hair. It had to go.

And no matter what her father said, she knew the vibrant red looked good on her. It set off her fair skin and blue eyes.

“Ahem, well,” said her dad. “It's very—”

“You look so hot.” Marnie, her brother Jericho's bride of a little over a month now, came to her rescue.

Zoe turned gratefully into new sister-in-law's embrace. “Hey. How's married life?”

Marnie released her and slanted a happy glance toward her groom. Jericho slowly smiled. It was hard to believe he'd always been the family's troubled loner. He didn't seem the least troubled now. For the first time, he was really happy. With his life. And his new wife.

“It's good,” said Marnie. “It's very, very good.”

“You look beautiful, honey,” Aleta declared, already in her chair. Zoe went over and kissed her mom's cheek and then sat down.

They began passing the platters of juicy T-bones, corn on the cob and baked potatoes.

It was a big turnout for a family Sunday. Everyone had shown up this time except for Travis, youngest of the boys. Travis was always off on some oil rig somewhere.

Matt and Corrine's six-year-old, Kira, told them all about her new puppy, Rosie. “Rosie loves Kathleen,” she announced. Kathleen was Matt and Corrine's second
child, born the previous September. “Rosie wants to lick Kathleen all over. That's what a dog does when she wants to give you a kiss. She licks you. It's kind of icky and they slobber, you know? But Mommy says it's only from love, so it's all right.”

It was nice, Zoe thought, to have a few little kids around now for family gatherings. Her brother Luke and his wife, Mercy, had a boy, Lucas. Gabe's wife, Mary, had a girl from her first marriage; Ginny was two now. Gabe doted on her. And Tessa, Ash's wife and Marnie's older sister, was four and a half months pregnant, so another niece or nephew was on the way.

After the meal, Zoe played pool in the game room, doubles, Marnie and Jericho versus Zoe and Abilene, who was Zoe's older sister by a year. As she bent over the table to set up a bank shot, Zoe realized she was having a great time. Really, she had to remember how much she enjoyed her family. She needed to show up at these things more often, not let her dad's careless remarks keep her away.

Around seven, she thanked Luke, who lived at the ranch full-time. She hugged Jericho and Marnie and headed for the door.

Her dad caught her as she was making her escape. “Zoe, hold on.” She felt the knot of tension gather at the back of her neck as he strode toward her. He was sixty now, but he still carried himself as if he owned the world—and everyone in it.

She braced herself for more criticism. But he only grabbed her in a last hug and told her not to be a stranger.

She looked at up at him and smiled. “I won't, Dad. I love you.”

Gruffly, he gave the words back to her. “And I love you, too. Very much.”

Her car waited in the circular drive at the foot of the wide front steps. She slid in behind the wheel, turned the engine on and rolled down the windows. The hot June wind blew in and ruffled her newly red hair. For a moment, she just sat there, staring at the ranch house, which was big and white and modeled after the governor's mansion, complete with giant Doric columns marching impressively along the wide front verandah.

Then she laughed and gunned the engine and took off around the circle and down the long front driveway, headed back to SA and her own cute, cozy condo. Life, right then, seemed very good, indeed. She was young and strong and ready, at last, to be more focused, more mature, less…easily distracted.

Her new job at
Great Escapes
magazine began tomorrow. She couldn't wait to get started.

 

“What in the hell did you do to your hair?”

Those were Dax's first words to her Monday morning, when he got off the elevator and saw her sitting at her new desk where the HR person had left her.

Zoe pressed her lips together to stifle a cutting reply. She really didn't want to start right off trading insults with the boss.

But on the other hand, she needed to be herself or this job wouldn't last any longer than any of the others had. Being herself would have to include fighting back when Dax pissed her off.

And anyway, hadn't he said he wanted someone with personality?

She yanked open the pencil drawer, grabbed the
dagger-shaped letter opener from the tray within, raised it high and stabbed the air with it. “Do you realize that is exactly what my father said to me yesterday at Sunday dinner?”

He moved back a step and eyed the letter opener sideways.

She pressed her point—both literally and figuratively. “You don't need to know all the issues I've got with my dad. You just need to know there
are
issues and you would do well not to turn out to be too much like him.”

With gratifying caution, Dax inquired, “Are you really planning to stab me with that thing?”

“Oh, I guess not.” She dropped it back in the pencil tray and shoved the drawer shut again. “I have to face facts. If I kill you, who will sign my paychecks?”

He was still staring at her hair. “Okay. Now that I'm over the shock, I admit it suits you,” he grumbled.

She gave him her sweetest smile. “I'll take that as a compliment. And we can move on.”

“Coffee first,” he commanded low.

She peered at him more closely. Killer handsome, of course. But tired, too. There were dark circles under those wonderful bedroom eyes. “Long night?”

“Aren't they all?” He named a place around the corner where the lattes were excellent. “Petty cash in the bottom drawer.”

She pulled out the drawer in question. There was a little safe mounted inside, with a combination lock. He rattled off the combination. She grabbed a pencil and jotted the numbers on a sticky note.

He said, “Get me the strongest coffee they've got, black, extra-large. When you bring it in to me, come armed with a notebook or your laptop and we'll get
down to what I want from you today. After that, you get with Lin Dietrich.” He turned and gazed over the large open workspace of desks, tables, machines and semi-cubicles. “Lin!”

A slim, beautiful Asian woman with a streak of cobalt blue in her thick, straight black bangs popped up from behind a glass partition. “What now?”

Dax signaled her over. When she reached his side, he announced proudly, “Lin's the best editorial assistant I ever had, which means I had to promote her. My loss. Your gain. Lin is features editor now. But today, she'll be with you, showing you everything you need to know.”

Lin gave Dax a narrow look, and then sent a wry smile in Zoe's direction. “Because there's nothing I need more than a little extra work to do.”

“I learn fast,” Zoe promised.

“Best news I've heard so far today.” Lin's expression said she'd believe it when she saw it.

“Coffee,” Dax said one more time, in a pained voice. He turned and went into his office without waiting for a reply, swinging the door firmly shut behind him.

Lin laughed. “He's always at his most charming on Monday mornings. Better get that coffee. I'm here when you're ready for me.”

 

Dax finished telling Zoe what he wanted from her at a little after ten. She found Lin, who took a few minutes to introduce her around the office. More than one of her new colleagues teased her about falling for the boss. Wearily, Zoe reassured each one that it wasn't going to be a problem.

Once the introductions were made, Lin then began
guiding her through the mile-long list of high-priority duties Dax had given her.

At noon, she and Lin went to a coffee shop down the street for a quick lunch.

“I feel it's only right that I say something,” Lin warned. “I can't stress it strongly enough. If you fall for him, he will have to let you go.”

Zoe made the sign of the cross. “Lin. Please. Not you, too.”

“Did Dax warn you about the problem?”

“Repeatedly. And you heard the others back at the office. The subject is getting seriously old.”

“I'm sorry, but it's an issue. You don't have to take my word for it. Just wait. You'll see. He loves women. Women love him. They can't seem to help it. He can't seem to say no.”

Zoe sipped her iced tea. “What about you? You were his assistant once. Did
you
fall in love with him?”

“Uh-uh. I had my secret weapon.” Lin held up her left hand. She wore a thick platinum wedding band.

“A husband.”

Lin beamed. “Roger.” She sighed in a dreamy way. “He's an aerospace engineer.” She pulled her wallet from her giant black tote and took out a picture. Roger had blond hair, an angular face and thick-rimmed black glasses. “Hot, huh?”

“Very handsome.”

“He's the only man for me.” Lin pressed the picture to her heart before tucking it away in her wallet again. “So I'm immune.”

“But what about every other woman in the office? I haven't heard any predictions that
they're
doomed to fall for Dax. What makes me so special?”

Lin shrugged. “It's the constant proximity, I think.
The daily close exposure to him when you work directly for him. I don't know what it is about him. He must have some genetic anomaly. An excess of sex pheromones maybe.”

“Oh, come on. You're not serious.”

“Oh, but I am.” Lin tipped her head, studying Zoe. “And you're exactly his type.” The blue streak in her hair caught the light, gleaming. “It's sad, really. I tend to think of it as Dax's fatal flaw. He hires the pretty ones with personality. And then they fall head-over-heels for him.”

“Not me. Can we be done talking about this?”

Lin picked up her fork and stuck it in her Cobb salad. “Too bad you're not already in love with someone else.”

…in love with someone else….

The words bounced around in Zoe's brain.

Lin was right. Zoe needed a man.
Her
man. A man she adored, who adored her in return. Such a man would be the perfect way to get everyone at
Great Escapes
to stop predicting her inevitable, job-destroying, hopeless passion for the boss.

Too bad her man didn't exist—or if he did, Zoe had failed, so far, to meet him.

She pushed her coleslaw around on her plate, considering. Not that she was in any way ready for her own personal hero, not yet. She had things to prove, a success to make in the business world, before she found the man for her and settled down.

Besides, right now she didn't need an actual guy. No way. She didn't have the time for a flesh-and-blood Mr. Wonderful who would drag along love and commitment and a shared mortgage. Uh-uh. It was the idea of the
guy that mattered. It was that everyone
believed
she had a guy who was the only guy for her.

She slanted Lin a glance. “Maybe I
am
in love already.”

Sharp black eyes widening, Lin looked up from her plate. “There
is
someone special, then?”

“I…don't want to say anything right now. It's, um, well, it's complicated.”

“Complicated is fine. Whatever. As long as there's someone and you're in love with him.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so. If you're serious about getting a start at
Great Escapes,
a special guy would be the best thing for you. And for Dax.
And
for the poor, overworked ladies down in HR.”

Z
oe took that whole week to make up her mind.

Really, it was a wild idea. Not to mention a total lie. She didn't want to get involved in an elaborate fiction if she could avoid it. It could be dangerous. There was always the possibility she would get caught, and not only by tripping herself up. What if Dax ran into her mother or father or someone in the family and happened to mention that Zoe had a fiancé?

That could be embarrassing.

But, then, as far as tripping up, she could make notes, create her own personal hero from the ground up, so that he became the next thing to real for her. Then she would be unlikely to contradict herself when she spoke of him.

And as far as her family, well, how much chance was there that they would blow the whistle on her? It wasn't as though Dax knew her family well, or hung around
with them or anything. Even if he ran into her mother somewhere, it would only be
Hello, how are you? And have a nice day.

True, her mom might ask how Zoe was doing on the job. He would say how great she was—well, he'd
better
say how great she was, because she intended to be even better at the job than Lin had been—and that would be that.

No reason a fiancé even had to come up.

And she wouldn't have to tell the lie forever. Eventually, when she was certain that Dax had stopped worrying she might try to seduce him, when everyone in the office quit waiting for her to drag him into the supply closet and ravish him, she could end it with her imaginary groom-to-be. Because, well, sadly, sometimes even the most perfect relationships don't last.

Yeah. It was workable. Totally workable.

Still, she hesitated. Maybe if she just held tight, the issue would resolve itself. Dax and everyone else at the office would see she wasn't the least interested in him and that would be that.

She wished.

Unfortunately, as that first week went by, it was becoming painfully clear that the issue was not resolving itself, that she
had
to do something.

Because Dax really was very attractive. He was so smart and funny. So yummy to look at. And he always smelled wonderful—fresh and clean, a little minty. And way too manly.

And now and then, she'd catch him watching her in a speculative way. As though he was attracted to her, too. As if he saw the inevitable approaching and wasn't dreading it all that much, that she was bound to make a pass at him and he was bound to take her up on it.

And then he would have to tell her that she wasn't working out. She'd be out of a job and her father would give her a hard time about it, once more making Sunday dinner at the ranch an experience she only wanted to avoid.

Thursday, as she was trying to make some headway organizing Dax's bottomless pile of slush submissions, the elevator doors rolled wide and a tall brunette in four-inch cage heels and satin cargoes stepped off. She smoothed her Grecian-style chiffon top, which had a plunging neckline that lovingly revealed a lot of ripe, tanned cleavage.

“Dax, please.” She ordered him up like a cocktail, in a husky voice, batting her big Bambi eyes.

“Have a seat. I'll just buzz him and see if he's—”

“Oh, he'll see me.” The woman breezed right on by.

“Wait. You can't…”

But apparently, she could. She already had his door open and was lounging seductively against the door frame. “Dax.”

“Faye,” he said from within. “What a surprise.”

Zoe jumped up. “Uh, Faye, if you'll only wait a minute, I'll just—”

Dax cut her off. “It's all right, Zoe.” Did he sound annoyed—with her, for not stopping the woman in time? Or with Faye, for popping up out of nowhere to lounge against his office door? Zoe couldn't tell. And she couldn't read his expression, as Faye was blocking her view. “Hold my calls,” he instructed.

“Uh. Sure.”

Faye sent a triumphant smile over her shoulder as she went in and shoved the door shut with the tall heel of her cage shoe.

When she came out twenty-eight minutes later, there was no mistaking the glow to her cheeks and the swollen, red, very-much-kissed look about her full lips. The dark brown hair was a bit mussed. And the Grecian-inspired top draped a little differently than when she'd gone in.

She blew a tender kiss in through the open doorway. “Tomorrow night?”

“I can't wait,” came Dax's deep, smooth voice from inside the office.

With one last knowing glance in Zoe's general direction, Faye strutted into the elevator. The doors slowly closed. Zoe shifted her gaze back to her computer screen. She stared blindly at a proposal titled, “Pack It Lite: Never Check a Bag Again,” and tried to figure out exactly what she was feeling.

It couldn't be jealousy, could it?

It couldn't be that she could actually picture
herself
coming out of Dax's office with her shirt on crooked and her hair all wild?

No. Absolutely not. She wanted this job. She
liked
this job. And nothing—especially not a burning desire to get down with the boss—was going to mess this up for her.

Friday, when she came in after lunch, Dax called her in for an afternoon huddle.

They had a lot to do and a short time to do it in. He would be gone from the office after next Wednesday. Thursday morning, he and a photographer and Lulu Grimes, one of the associate editors, were off to Melbourne for the December Spotlight, “Aussie Holiday.”

He would be gone a full week. He wanted to be sure she had his travel arrangements under control. Also, he needed to make the most of the time he had in the
office next week. Scheduling had to be flawless. And he had to have everything that would need doing while he was in Australia effectively delegated.

Twice during that meeting, she caught him looking at her legs. This was not good—especially since she found she
liked
to have him looking at her legs.

Something definitely had to be done.

Saturday morning, she took action. She found a dingy little shop in a part of SA where she would never run into anyone she knew. The brawny, heavily tattooed guy behind the desk offered a nice range of cubic zirconia engagement and wedding rings. She chose a fat emerald-cut solitaire in a faux-platinum setting. It looked impressive—and real—on her finger, the price was right and the fake stone was really, really big and sparkly.

She took the ring home. Monday, before she went to the office, she slipped it onto her ring finger.

An hour and ten minutes later, when the elevator doors slid wide and Dax stepped off, the art assistant, two associate editors and Lin were gathered in an admiring circle around Zoe's desk.

Dax wore dark glasses. And even though Zoe couldn't see his eyes, he looked at least as tired and cranky as he had the Monday before. Had he been with Faye all weekend? If so, the woman must be insatiable. He looked drained of energy—and probably bodily fluids, as well.

“What's going on?” he groused. “Why aren't you people working? There's a planning meeting at ten in the conference room downstairs.”

“Dax.” Lin answered for all of them. “We know. We actually do get your memos. And after we get them, we read them.”

He made a growly sort of sound low in his throat. “I'll expect at least five solid ideas from each of you. And Zoe, where's my coffee?”

Lin gave her a big smile. “Zoe, it's so beautiful. Seriously, I'm beyond happy for you.” She winked so fast that only Zoe could have seen it and added archly, “On more than one level.” She turned to go. The others dispersed with her.

Zoe grabbed the coffee she'd picked up on the way in and held it out to him. “Venti, bold and black. Good morning, Dax.”

He took the coffee. “What's beautiful? Why is Lin happy for you?”

She held up her other hand and wiggled her fingers. The fake diamond glittered in a satisfyingly blinding fashion. “Johnny proposed,” she announced on a happy sigh. “And I told him yes.”

He took the lid off his coffee and stared down into it. Even though the sunglasses obscured his eyes, she assumed he was checking to make sure she hadn't slipped a little half and half in there or something. He sniffed at the contents and then demanded darkly, “Who's Johnny?”

She arranged her expression into a thoughtful frown. “Didn't I tell you about Johnny?”

“Not one word.”

“Oh, I can't believe I never mentioned Johnny.” She released another gusty sigh. “What can I say about Johnny?” She waved the hand with the ring on it. Flashes of refracted light bounced off the acoustical tile ceiling. “I met him at Stanford. Years ago. He's from a really old and important California family. He moved to San Antonio last fall. We've been dating—
both seriously and exclusively. Saturday, he asked me to be his wife.”

Dax winced as he took off the sunglasses. “Well, give Johnny my congratulations. He's a fortunate man.” He squinted at her. She couldn't tell if he was disappointed that they weren't ever having sex after all. Or if he just had a really bad hangover.

She beamed. “Yes, he's a lucky man. And I'm a happy, happy woman.” She tried to look deeply in love as well as sexually sated.

His brow crinkled. “So does this mean you'll be giving me notice?”

She blinked. “Notice? Of course not. I intend to work for you for years and years.”

He reminded her drily, “That is, if you pass your two-week review.”

She brushed a curl of red hair back over her shoulder. “You know I will. Already, after one week, you can't function without me. And Johnny knows I love my new job. He would never ask me to quit.”

“Johnny sounds like a real prize,” he remarked with absolutely no inflection.

“Oh, he is, he is.”

“In fact, he almost sounds too good to be true.”

She didn't miss a beat. “He does, doesn't he? But he is very real. A man of flesh and blood, of—”

“Zoe?”

“Hmm?”

“Don't overplay it.” He gave her one of those looks, both patient and all-knowing. Was he on to her little deception—already, when she'd barely begun it?

Surely not.

She smiled at him, a sweet smile. Angelic, even.
“All right, Dax. I'll do my best to keep my unbounded, ecstatic happiness to myself.”

“Excellent. We need to prep for the meeting.”

“The caterers from the bakery should be here by nine-thirty.”

“Good. Give me ten minutes to pull myself together. We'll do a quick once-over of what has to be covered before we go down.”

“I'm ready.”

He shook his head. “Are you always so eager on a Monday morning?”

She beamed. “I'm young, I'm in love and I've got a great job.”

“Ugh.” He put his dark glasses back on. “That does it. I absolutely forbid you to smile again until at least 11 a.m.”

“I live to serve.” She mugged an exaggerated frown.

“There. That's more like it.”

 

During the first three days of that week, Zoe made up a lot of stuff about Johnny—most of it on the spot when someone would ask her a question about him and she would have to produce an answer. Later, at home alone in the evening, she would open her “Johnny” file and add in whatever new information she'd fabricated about the new love of her life. It worked out well. She made up stuff and then she made sure she remembered what she'd said.

Johnny, as it turned out, was allergic to strawberries. His last name was Schofield—of the Mendocino Schofields. He traveled a lot, taking care of various “family interests.” He loved long walks on the beach and quiet nights at home and he was an accomplished horseman.

He had moss-green eyes and dark gold hair that Zoe loved to run her fingers through. He was tender and loving, a good listener. He truly was the perfect man.

Well, except for the fact that he didn't exist.

Wednesday afternoon, as they were going over Dax's travel checklist for the last time, Zoe caught him yet again looking at her legs. She went right on with her rundown of his itinerary. There was no law that said he couldn't look.

She felt much more relaxed around him now. More confident in her ability to resist his considerable charm and powerful sex appeal. Johnny, as it turned out, had been just what she needed to help her keep her priorities in order.

Her big fake engagement diamond glittered at her, reminding her that she knew what she wanted and she would not be distracted from what mattered in her life. She smiled a soft, contented smile. She was keeping this job and she was going to be the best editorial assistant there was. Eventually, she might move on to become an editor in her own right.

Or, if Dax was willing to pay her enough to continue as his assistant, she would consider a new title of Executive Secretary to the Editor-in-Chief. And the fat paycheck that went with it.

She was going to go far at
Great Escapes
. But all in good time.

 

Thursday, with Dax on his way to Australia, she dug into the slush pile. She wanted to get caught up on the unagented submissions, get them logged and categorized by the time he returned.

She liked reading slush. She found she could pick
out the stories with potential. Those she flagged so Dax would be sure to give them a more careful look.

Reading slush also helped her to get ideas of her own. It inspired her to think in terms of what kinds of stories and features she might contribute to
Great Escapes.
It never hurt to plan ahead, to start preparing for the day when coming up with a story might become part of her job.

Sunday, the Fourth of July, she went out to the ranch again. She got there at eleven in the morning and stayed for the fireworks after dark. She had a great time, enjoyed the meal and the family conversation, and didn't once want to burst into tears because of some thoughtless remark her dad had made.