Sleeping With the Boss (14 page)

And the worst part was that he would never forgive her for this.

Chapter Seventeen

Will walked into Michael’s office wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt, not giving a fuck about office dress code or anything else for that matter. He was going to find the spy and bury this once and for all, and he wasn’t going home until he did.

“Good morning,” Michael said from behind the desk.

Chance turned to look at him from one wing chair and gestured for him to sit in the other. Without a word, Will sat in the chair indicated.

Michael folded his hands on the desk. “She’s here.”

“Who?”

“Claire Maddox.”

His throat tightened. She was here. He would get to see her and try to figure out what was up last night when he dropped her off. “And?” She’d probably come by to pick up her last paycheck or stuff from her office. What was the fucking point of this nonsense?

The look on Chance’s face indicated it wasn’t nonsense. Serious shit from somewhere had hit the fan. “You don’t know, then.”

“She asked to meet with us,” Michael said, brow furrowed with concern. But it wasn’t worry for Claire. Something deep inside knew his brother’s concern was for
him.

Will stood, panic rising, like right before a firefight.

“The three of us,” he continued.

“Where is she?”

Michael’s expression didn’t change. “She’s in the next office with Mildred. She wanted to wait until you were here, too. Sit down, Will.”

Something was seriously wrong here. She’d been so odd when he dropped her off, and now this. “I need to see her.”

Michael pushed his intercom button. “Please bring Miss Maddox in, Mildred.”

Will sank to his seat, knees unable to support him when he saw her. She was dressed in a dark brown business suit with her hair pulled back severely in a bun. Even her eyes were stark. This wasn’t Claire. It was a hollow impersonation of her. She didn’t make eye contact with him or even acknowledge he was in the room.

“Thanks for agreeing to see me, Mr. Anderson,” she said in a flat, lifeless tone. “I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

Will closed his eyes and held his breath.
Surely not…surely.

She took a shuddering breath, but her voice came out in a steady, emotionless stream. “I have been contacting uncontracted clients based on information I gathered while working for your company.”

“Claire, no,” Will said.

She acted as if he hadn’t spoken. “I will not reveal with whom I worked, but he was simply going along with what I orchestrated. I was the one who made the decisions and brokered the deals. He was nothing but a front.”

Will stared at her, stunned. He refused to believe it.

“I am leaving the country permanently. I did not break any laws. I’m sorry for any damage I caused.” Her breath hitched and she closed her eyes, composing herself. “To…to anyone. I had a very good reason for doing it.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She turned and ran from the office.

“Claire, wait!” Will shouted, running after her. He caught up with her at the bank of elevators. “What are you doing?”

She didn’t answer or meet his eyes.

“You’re not the spy.”

She pushed the button again. “I left a detailed summary with all the dates, clients, and facts spelled out.” And for a brief moment, her guard dropped. “I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. Truly.” Then, the expressionless demeanor was raised again right as the elevator door opened. “Don’t follow me. Don’t call me. Don’t contact me. It’s over.”

Numb, Will watched as the elevator door closed. The same elevator she had been in when he saw her the very first time. He didn’t know how long he stood there, but when he turned around, both of his brothers were watching him with concerned expressions.

“She didn’t do it.”

Chance shot Michael a look before walking back to the office.

They didn’t believe him. They thought he was covering for her…
Hold it. Dammit
, why hadn’t he seen the connection before?

“She didn’t do it,” he shouted after them.

When he got in the office, his brothers were deep in conversation. Chance was staring out the window and Michael was in one of the wing chairs, rather than behind his desk.

“She’s right, it’s not illegal,” Chance said, hands over his head splayed out on the glass. “We wouldn’t even prevail in civil court. We don’t even have a claim for tortious interference with a business relationship, because the clients were not under contract. There might be something, but I doubt it.”

“Let it go,” Michael said. “Enough damage has been done.”

“She’s not the spy,” Will said, primarily to himself. “I know her. I trust her implicitly.”

That got Michael’s attention. He raised his eyes to Will’s face.

“Holy shit,” Chance said. “You’ve fallen in love.”

“I would love her whether she did this or not,” Will said. Sinking into the chair nearest the door. “Love is something that grew organically. Trust is different. It’s earned. She earned it and I know she didn’t do it. It isn’t possible. Love aside, she’s not the spy.”

“Love,” Michael said, voice soft. “I had no idea this was going on until Chance filled me in on how much time you’d been spending together. Then, when you took her to the island, I knew it was pretty serious.”

“I’ll prove she didn’t do it.”

“I’ve no doubt about that.” Just like their father used to do when he ran the place, Michael steepled his fingers in front of him. “But Will, you really need to prioritize. If you care for her, I think your first order of business should be to get her back.”

Will couldn’t believe it. Michael was putting a personal matter ahead of the business. That was certainly a first.

“I don’t know how you plan to accomplish that, little brother, but it’s not going to happen with your ass in that chair.”

Will stood. “Thanks.”

“Oh, and Dan called,” Michael said, dimples flickering as he fought a smile. It was good to see him smile. Will genuinely loved his brother and wanted him to start lightening up a little. Michael straightened a pile of perfectly lined up papers on his desk. “Somehow the table on the plane was broken on your flight home?”

Chance busted out laughing.

Will cleared his throat. “I can’t imagine how that happened.”

“Well, I’d rather not imagine it.” He sat behind the desk. “I’m just glad you finally found somebody worth fighting for, little brother.”

She
was
worth fighting for, and that’s exactly what he planned to do. First, though, he needed to make a visit to her friend, Heather.

“What are friends for?” he said, striding to the elevators one part relieved and one part terrified. These were the highest stakes of his life.

“Hey,” Chance called from where he leaned against the door of the office. “You forgot your phone.”

Will walked back and retrieved it. “Did you fuck with my ringtones again?”

“You bet I did.” A mischievous glint flashed in his eyes. “Suffice it to say you will know if Claire Maddox is calling.”

God, he hoped she called. Soon.

Chapter Eighteen

Claire stepped out of the airport into the bright Cairo sun. When she landed in Egypt, she’d resolved to stop looking over her shoulder, hoping to see Will.

Will wasn’t coming. She’d told him not to follow in no uncertain terms. She had also vowed to not keep checking her text messages every ten minutes. He wasn’t going to contact her either. Why would he? Hell, he was probably burning her in effigy right now or sticking pins in a Claire-shaped voodoo doll.

Still, like in one of those romance chick flicks, part of her kept hoping he’d burst through the customs line or shout to her across a crowded terminal, or be waiting for her in a cab, like the one she was getting into at that moment. She sighed as she slid into the empty cab to go to her empty hotel room to sleep in her empty bed.

But her heart wasn’t empty. She was still in love with Will Anderson and probably always would be. She was grateful for Heather in some regards. True, she’d totally screwed things up, but were it not for her, there would have been nothing to screw up in the first place. And even though she’d never have him for keeps, she had the memories. If only the spy had been someone other than Heather, or if she hadn’t had a heart-wrenching good reason for doing it, then she’d be with Will. She wouldn’t have had to take the fall to protect her friend.

“If only,” she said to herself on the way to her West Bank hotel. She made a promise, right then and there: no more
if onlys
. From now on she would have no regrets. She’d made a decision to help her friend and it was the right one. She’d do it again in a heartbeat.

…

Two weeks later, Claire had seen most of the sites near the Valley of the Kings. She’d be flying to Istanbul the next day, and honestly, she was ready to move on to a new adventure. Being alone had been good for her. People talked about soul-searching, but very few actually did it. Claire had done it, and she liked what she found.

She’d forgiven Heather, and mainly, she’d forgiven herself. She hoped that someday Will would do the same. For now, though, she looked forward to today’s excursion to the Temple of Hatshepsut—an item on her bucket list. She still had an hour before the bus, so she fired up her laptop. She smiled when a dozen or so emails loaded from Heather, who’d been message-bombing Claire every day since she left and never failed to make her laugh.

Today’s batch was different. The subject line on all of them read the same:
Of interest.
There was nothing in the body of the emails except a single link. She clicked the first one and was routed to an article in a local Delaware newspaper: “Anderson Auctions Company to Sponsor Restoration of Rare Pottery,” she read out loud. Since when were they in the business of restoration? She read the article to find they were funding an exhibit at a small museum in Delaware. One she’d made a donation to. There was a picture of Will with the museum curator at the bottom. It was dated the day after she fled Michael’s office.

She opened the next email and found a similar article. Will had donated money to another small museum, saving it from ruin. Again, it was one to which she’d made a small contribution.

The next five contained articles from around the same time revealing the same thing. It was as if he’d hacked into her bank account and searched out her causes.

Son of a bitch.
He owned a security company. Jim was ex-CIA. They could probably do that. Her heart sped up as she opened more emails and skimmed the articles. Will’s face grinning out at her from images on the screen, dimples and all.

He said he hated being in the papers and in the limelight, yet his picture was plastered all over the place. Clearly, he’d sought out the attention. Why had he done it? He could have donated privately without calling in the papers. A chill washed through her.

It was an olive branch. Will was reaching out the only way he could. She had ordered him not to contact her or follow her. He was telling her he still believed in her. “Holy shit,” she said as she skimmed another email containing the same thing. All the stories were dated the days before she left.

She held her cursor over the last link for a moment, trying to slow her breathing. Outside the hotel, she knew life went on as usual with street noise and vendors’ calls filling the air, but the only thing she heard was her own heart beating.

She opened the link to a newspaper article from the day she flew away and read the caption out loud. “War Hero William Anderson Saves Another Life.” She skipped to the bottom of the article and gasped. It was a picture of Will with his arm around a little boy. It was Brian, Heather’s nephew. Will had pledged to underwrite his medication and cover all costs not covered by insurance once it kicked in.

He knew. And he’d started this campaign the day she left him. He’d never stopped trusting her. This was his way of proving it.

Claire yanked her phone out of her backpack and called Professor Jahi. He took the news well and told her he’d always have a spot for her if she changed her mind. Then she called her travel agent. Instead of flying to Istanbul, she’d be flying to New York tomorrow night. Hell, she’d have flown out that minute if a flight had been available. William Anderson had just trusted her with his heart. No way was this going to end in an
if only
.

She closed her laptop and paced from one end of her tiny hotel room to the other, hiking boots clonking on the tile floor. Sitting around until she could fly back tomorrow night would be torture. She glanced at her watch. There was still time to catch her tour bus. The Temple of Hatshepsut would be the perfect distraction.

…

Will squinted and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He’d been staring down this ramp so long, it had been burned in his brain. It was very much like other missions he’d been on, though. If nothing else, Will had a steady hand and patience.

The guard came by again and he shaded a section of his drawing a bit more. He was sure every day that this was the day one of two things would happen: either the guards would figure out he was not a history student sketching this temple in the middle of the fucking desert and tell him he couldn’t hang out here, or Claire would finally walk up that ramp.

He took a swig from his canteen and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He was almost out of provisions. He’d need to go back to that little village either tonight or the next day if she didn’t show up. According to Jim, she was still checked into the little hotel in Luxor, so his odds were good.

Stretching helped, but everything in him ached. Sitting hunkered over a sketchbook was awful. Add the desert in the mix and it was hell. He’d give almost anything for a soft bed and a cold beer. A little girl and her mother walked to the other side of the ramp to avoid him. He looked down and laughed. He couldn’t really blame them. His jeans were tattered and ripped and every inch of him was covered in sand or hair—or both. Okay, so a soft bed, a cold beer, a shave, and a hot shower.

He scanned the large group of incoming tourists who had just arrived as they approached the ramp leading up to the temple. Usually, he confined his field of vision to the twelve linear feet up and down the ramp from him to avoid redundancy and the potential for a slipup, but something had shifted. He studied the group from left to right, and stood. He’d read somewhere that there are people whose souls you could feel before you actually saw them. He’d always thought that was horseshit. Until now. He felt her. She was here.

Pulse pounding in his neck, he set his sketchbook down on his backpack, never taking his eyes off the ramp.

No, no, no, no, no, no…
He ticked them off in his head.
No, no, no…
And the world came to a screeching halt.
Yes.
At the base of the ramp stood Claire. Like backup in a firefight, his future relied on her. What would she do? He had to calm his mind and stay steady.

As if she had heard his thoughts or sensed his presence, too, she turned and looked up the ramp directly at him. She was so far away, he couldn’t make out her features very well. The heat rising in visible waves from the stone ramp didn’t help either.
Fucking desert.

She took a step forward, and then stopped, face still turned in his direction. Tourists passed her on either side as they climbed. She simply stood still like a rock in the stream.

“Come on, Claire,” he whispered. Still, she made no move to climb the ramp. He picked up his pack and strapped it over his shoulders. Sketchpad in hand, he took several steps down the ramp. She took several up.

Holy shit.
She was going to meet him halfway. It was all he could do to not charge down the ramp full-speed.

A large group of people was between them, cutting off the visual. Still, he walked at a steady pace down the ramp knowing eventually they would meet. “Claire Maddox,” he shouted over the crowd.

People stared, but he didn’t care. His skin was burned and he was dehydrated and covered in fucking sand, and he didn’t care.

“Will?”

At the sound of her voice, he started to run. He couldn’t even imagine how many slaves and years it took that pharaoh to build this contraption, but it was way too big. “Claire?”

“Will!” She was running too. He’d caught a fleeting glimpse of her as she pushed her way toward him.

It was like a game of Marco Polo in a living sea of people. “Claire!” He sounded almost panicked. Well, hell, he
was
panicked. And then he saw her. She was about ten feet below him and both of them froze.

He approached her slowly, like you would a skittish animal, until he was close enough to touch her, but he didn’t.

She cocked an eyebrow and tilted her head up to look at him from under the floppy brim of her hat. “I thought I told you not to follow me.”

“I didn’t. I preceded you. I’ve been here a while. In fact, I’ve been camping in these very cliffs. Did you follow
me
?”

“I would have, if I’d known you were here.”

Will would’ve sworn that his heart had completely stopped. His chest sure hurt like it had. “I wish I’d known that two weeks ago.”

People passed them on either side, but the crowd from the last wave of tourists had cleared a bit.

“Have you been here that long?”

He nodded. Yes, he’d camped in the desert for her, and it had been cathartic. He’d come to grips with lots of things. The desert hadn’t haunted him and dredged up bad memories as he’d expected. Positively associating his time here with finding Claire had worked. For the first time in years, he felt whole and at peace. There was only one thing missing now, and she was standing right in front of him wearing a goofy hat and what he knew was a false look of irritation.

“How did you know I’d be here?” she asked.

“Hatshepsut is one of the big attractions. I picked it specifically because this ramp offers a great line of vision and is the only entrance.” He shrugged. “Also, it was on your screensaver on your work computer. I figured you’d show up sooner or later. Sadly, it was later.”

Hands on hips, she mock-glared. “You hacked into my work computer, Mr. Anderson?”

“Damn right, I did.” He smiled and scrubbed his hand over his whiskers. “Besides, it’s technically Anderson Auctions’ computer.”

She pushed her glasses up on her nose. “You look like shit.”

A sprinkling of freckles had appeared across her nose and cheeks since the last time he’d seen her. “You look beautiful.”

She smiled and stared down at her feet. “I missed you, Will.”

Missing her didn’t even come close to describing the hole in his life over the last two weeks.

She looked up directly into his eyes. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I really didn’t know what else to do. Heather did a stupid thing, but she did it for all the right reasons.”

“So did you.”

“Yeah. I did.”

This was his chance. The moment he’d been waiting for, and all of a sudden, he went blank. “I had rehearsed what I was going to say, but now that you’re here, I can’t remember a word of it other than I’m sorry I didn’t chase you down the second you walked out of that office. And I want to be with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.” He tilted her chin up so he could see her face under the brim of her hat. “I want to see if we can make this work because I think we’re a good team. You make me better, Claire Maddox, and if you don’t kiss me, I think I just might die.”

And when she got on tiptoe and pulled his face down to hers for a kiss, he almost did.

“What I had rehearsed was much better than that.”

“I would hope so.” She licked her lips. “At least you packed toothpaste.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Because,” she said, heading back down the ramp, “you obviously forgot a razor.”

He followed. “I’ve been living outdoors in a desert.”

“You forgot soap, too.”

He fell into step beside her. “A desert with
sand
.”

“And you failed to pack deodorant.” She wrinkled her nose and fanned her hand in front of her face.

He laughed. “I slept on rocks.”

She stopped. “I haven’t slept at all, Will.”

He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “I love you, Claire.”

Her voice was light and shaky. “I love you, too.”

“Thank God.”

She laughed and turned to walk down the ramp again.

He caught her by the elbow. “Wait a second, don’t you want to see the temple?”

Glancing over her shoulder back up at the structure, she shrugged. “Nah. I’d rather go back to my hotel and get you all cleaned up and de-whiskered, because you are a lot more impressive than a bunch of stone in the desert.”

“Really?”

“No. But we can come back here in the morning. I have a flight back to the States tomorrow night because there’s something in New York even more amazing than Egypt.”

He was stunned to silence for a moment. “Really?”

“Yeah, there’s this guy I’m kind of into who lives there, but I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now, Mr. Anderson, I’m the boss and I expect you to come back to my hotel and follow my orders to the letter. This job is going to require lots of hands-on hours and I think your work history and high level of expertise in the area qualify you to be on this team.” She struck out down the ramp into the sea of people without a backward glance at him.