Oh Stupid Heart (20 page)

When they walked
through the sliding doors to their office building, DJ sat in the lobby beside Thomas.
Both men wore furrowed brows.

DJ stood upon their
entry. “The rat escaped, sir. He left for lunch and never returned.”

Trent patted him on
the back. “Not to worry. If we are lucky, he’s gone for good.”

Carrie whispered to
Trent, “I bet DJ could work on the Bob Ott issue.”

Trent smiled. “DJ, follow
us upstairs, we have another rat for you to catch.”

When they entered the
fifth floor, people occupied almost every desk. Their employees had returned
and appeared to be working.

Carrie smiled. “You
fill in DJ on his new assignment, while I see to the staff. Maybe more are
salvageable than we thought.”

With DJ in tow, Trent
entered his spectacular new office. Once Mr. Monroe decided to do his job, the
man didn’t waste time or cut corners. While Carrie’s office remained a work in
progress, Trent’s was a completed work of art, perhaps the best office in New
York City.

He motioned DJ to one
of his comfortable visitor chairs and explained the job. “We need you to stake
out an employee’s home and determine how many people live in the house. Take
photos of every person entering and leaving. Make sure you aren’t seen.” He
slid him a credit card. “Any surveillance equipment you need, car rentals,
whatever, put it on the card. As long as they are legitimate expenses, I’ll
cover them.”

Never, had Trent seen
a more excited employee, with the exception of Carrie on the day she
interviewed. He rose and walked happy DJ through the outer office.

Once his new head of
security hurried off like a beagle on a hunt, Trent went to the main room to
check on his beloved partner.

Instead of addressing
the group as a whole, she spoke to each individually. He thought it a terrible
waste of time.

“May I have
everyone’s attention?”

Everyone looked up,
including his worried change specialist. She no doubt feared he would mess this
up, as well.

“I am pleased to see
everyone back at work. With Carrie’s guidance, we’re going to make Lancaster
Chairs a great place to work. Please open your mind to changes in how we
interact with each other. We all, including myself, have a great opportunity
for improvement.”

He glanced at Carrie
to see if his speech surprised her. She stood and applauded him, and slowly the
other employees followed.

Never in his life had
he conceived a moment when all his employees would clap for him. His father had
to be thrashing in his grave. He’d have to thank Ian for his unsolicited
speech. This morning when he received it, he never thought he’d use it. It was another
reminder of all he’d lost when Carrie walked out of his life.

But she’d come back,
forgiven him, and together they would make Lancaster Chairs
his
company,
not his father’s. With Carrie at his side, he could finally be happy. And if
his astoundingly expensive therapist did his job, Trent would become the
fabulous man she deserved to have.

Carrie and Trent
toasted a successful turnaround a month later at the second best restaurant in
town. Not even the calamari could tempt Carrie to return to the top ranked
restaurant, Chelsies. She had yet to forgive whatever Gary, the owner, had said
or done the night Trent had taken her there.

So in a crowded
restaurant, in a less than spectacular location, they held up their glasses of
champagne.

“To the greatest change
specialist who’s ever lived, and to Ian, who trained her so well.”

She laughed. “To Ian,
and to my boss who supported the changes every step of the way.”

He didn’t like taking
second billing to his old nemesis, but he let it slide. His therapist harped
constantly on his need to let things go, because getting hung up on little irritants
triggered his stress. According to his therapist, his built up anger not only changed
him into a raging monster, but would eventually kill him. To drive the point
home, his shrink had brought in a renowned heart specialist during their second
session who explained the physical harm stress could create in the body. The
list had been endless: heart attacks, strokes, high blood pressure…all resulting
in death.

None of which would
happen to him now that all his problems had been solved, arrested, or sued. “A
toast to David and his kick-ass borrowed assistant.”

Carrie had spent a
great deal of time with his lawyer over the last month assisting him in
bringing lawsuits against Grant for breaking covenants in his contract with
Lancaster Chairs when he quit and took a job with Econoline, Hal Jacobs for
stealing property, violating his contract, and working for a competitor at the
same time he drew a salary from Lancaster, and finally, they sued Econoline for
their part in these criminal acts. The same judge presided over all three cases
and by the time Econoline came to court, the deck had decidedly stacked against
them. They not only had to pay Lancaster Chairs five million dollar in damages
for Hal Jacob’s slanderous sales pitch, but they could not contact his key
customers for a year.

“And to Agent Troy
for his dogged pursuit of crime,” Carrie added.

Trent chuckled and
toasted the FBI agent who helped get Bob Ott sentenced to forty years in prison
for fraud, theft, and tax evasion.

Carrie had once again
seen the truth. The only working systems employee was Jack. Bob Ott spent his
days watching porn and gambling away two million a year. The twenty-eight other
employees lived in nursing homes, clueless Bob had stolen their identities.

Trent slid Carrie’s
chair closer to his and caressed her cheek. “I love you with all my heart.”

She snared his hand
and pressed her lips to it. “Same here.”

He’d receive far more
flowery declarations of love from other ladies, but none spoken with greater
heartfelt honesty. Carrie was the real thing, and the one person who had ever
believed in him. She’d not only saved his business, but him as well. If she
ever left him, he had no idea how he’d survive.

“Let’s have a baby,”
he blurted with excessive volume, causing the people in the nearby tables to
stare.

She chuckled and
softly replied, “We’ll need to marry first.”

“We will, once you
get pregnant.” Jon was proof society would drop Trent if he knocked up a
middle-class lady and then married her.

She shook her head.
“Oh no. My family will count the months down to the day. We have to be married
before we even try. I’m not enduring constant remarks that the only reason I
got the man of my dreams is because of a bun in my oven.”

He sighed with
frustration. “All right, but I’ll have to get a new therapist first.”

“Why?”

“My current guy is
adamant I’m not ready to marry anyone.”

“Then let’s wait
until you are.”

His hand covered
hers. “But what if you leave me before I’m ready?”

She softly laughed.
“Leave you? After all the work I’ve put into to make you the very best of men?
Not a chance. I love you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Trent relaxed,
letting his fears slide away. They could do this: cross the social lines and
find their own special place. He did not need to fear the society matrons and
the Ians of the world. For some inexplicable reason, Carrie loved him and she
could make it all happen on will power alone.

***

Thank
you for reading Oh Stupid Heart.

If
you enjoyed it, please write a review on Amazon.

Book
3 of A Long Road to Love

Excerpt

Carrie
Hanson woke to the loving caresses of her boss and boyfriend, Trent Lancaster.
She opened her eyes and smiled as he rolled on top of her, his strong, six-foot
muscular body dwarfing her petite four-foot-six body. God, she loved the man
he’d become.

His
eyes sparkled as he gently tugged off her teddy and admired her body. She
breathed in at the warmth of his hand. Even after six months, his touch could
still set her skin on fire.

“I
think we’re going to be late to work today.”

She
chuckled. “It’s Sunday.”

His
eyes rounded for a moment. “I love Sundays.” He captured her hands and moved
them to the ornate metal of the headboard, curling her fingers around the bars.

“I
love you,” he added and kissed her with hungry passion as his hands covered her
breasts.

A
sleepy haze of nirvana wrapped around her.

Then
a jarring ring pulled her from her heaven. Her right hand released the
headboard and slapped the black radio alarm by her bedside, determined to quiet
it before it ruined the mood. Unfortunately, the ringing continued.

“No!”
she yelped when Trent rolled to the side and climbed off the bed. He reached
for his pants on the floor and extracted his phone.

“Trent.”

Whoever
it was had him scurrying to the bathroom so he could talk in private. She hoped
it wasn’t a friend needing money. His moments of generosity never worked out
well.

She
glared at the bedroom door he’d closed. Who calls at six in the morning on a
Sunday? She sat up, grabbed her teddy and put it on. They had been so close to
having morning sex, something she greatly liked because it put her in a good
mood the entire day. However, she’d just discovered interrupted, no-morning sex
made her disgruntled and grumpy.

She
pushed herself out of bed and went to the bathroom, but the door was locked,
something Trent never did. He rarely even bothered closing the door
nevertheless locking it.

Curious,
she pressed her ear to the door. His low refined voice faintly sounded through
the cheap balsam wood.

“Got
to go. I’ll see you shortly.”

A
second later, the door opened and he pulled her into his arms, and kissed her
with passion.

“Missed
me?”

She
resisted his embrace, still feeling grumpy and knowing if he planned to see
someone shortly, sex had been booted to the curb. “Don’t rile me up if you
don’t plan to finish what you start.”

He
let her go and stared at her with concern as she sat down on the toilet. “Has
something upset you?” he asked.

“No…yes…I
just…Who called you this early in the morning?”

He
finished brushing his hair and disappeared back into the bedroom, annoying her
even further.

By
the time she followed him to the bedroom he had dressed in what she called
‘casual rich.’ High quality light wool pants and a tailored white silk shirt.

“So
I’m guessing we aren’t going hiking?” she grumbled, pissed he had yet to tell
her who had called.

“Sorry.
Can you take all my clothes in your closet to the cleaners?”

“Would
you like me to polish your shoes, as well?”

He
wrapped his arms around her. He had put on his delicious cologne that melted
away her grumpiness and turned her into pudding. “I’ll pay you back for the
cleaner’s bill.”

He
would too. A month late, but he’d throw some outrageous ‘interest’ on the money
making the chore quite profitable. He hated she had to watch her money and stay
to a budget. So whenever he could contrive a situation, he’d throw her extra
money.

“Your
clothes are fine. They don’t need to visit the cleaners.”

He
kissed her neck. “Actually, they do. They smell musty. Sure you won’t let me
buy you central air?”

“I
like open windows and fresh air.”

He
released her, evidently having tired of her grumpiness and sat on the bed as he
tied his beautiful Italian shoes, custom-made for his precious feet.

She
sat beside him. “So where are you going and how soon will you return?”

“I’m
going into work and I’ll be back by dinner.”

“What’s
wrong at work?”

He
paused. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“I’m
your EA. If it concerns you, it concerns me”

He
sighed heavily and stared at the carpet between his feet.

“I’m
going in, too,” Carrie declared and grabbed a pair of jeans. Before she could
put them on, he tugged them from her hands and tossed them to a wooden rocking
chair. He then pulled her to the bed beside him.

“I
need to handle this by myself.”

“Why?”

He
stared up at the ceiling. “Because it’s
my
company. When there’s a
problem, I need to fix it.”

Before
she could formulate a counter argument, he placed two fingers over her lips,
silencing her.

“Three
months ago, when we almost broke up over you interviewing with a competitor,
you warned me someday you’d need to leave the company.”

She
had suggested it
might
be necessary, given the horrible rages he’d throw
without warning or cause. Both times, the triggers had been business issues.
She pressed her hand upon his leg, wishing he’d stop staring at his shoes. “But
you’re well now. You’ve become the perfect boss.”

He
gripped her hand and fingered the massive engagement ring on her finger. He had
surprised her with the family heirloom two months ago. She’d still feared his
temper, so she asked for a long engagement. Honestly, they came from such
different worlds, sometimes they seemed like different species.

Thinking
he played with her ring to remind her of the doubts she had, she pressed her
head against his arm. “You’ve improved beyond my wildest imagination. You are
as close to the perfect man as I could ask for. If you want to set a date—“

“No,”
he said all too quickly.

She
frowned wondering what this change of mind meant. Two months ago he’d wanted to
marry her at once. She had been the one insisting for more time.

He
turned and cupped her face within his large hands. “You were right. I was a
basket case back then, and while I agree I’m now better, I’m not yet good
enough for you.”

The
cloud of worry lifted and her heart swelled with love. “Shouldn’t I decide
that?”

He
shook his head. “I’m still growing up from the petulant child I’ve been all my
life.” He exhaled heavily and met her gaze. “To continue my progress, I need
your assistance.”

She
smiled at his ability to admit weaknesses now. “Anything,” she promised.

He
leaned in and kissed her forehead. “My therapist strongly believes your desire
to be the world’s best EA and my girlfriend are hampering my attempts to grow
up. You take care of all my problems. He says I need to handle matters for
myself.”

Fear
spread from her chest out to her fingertips, making her numb, slowing her
brain. “Are you saying you want to break up with me?”

Oh
dear. What has Liza O’Connor done now?