Midnight Under the Mistletoe. Sara Orwig
end of the day, she would have made a big enough dent in the stacks to get to keep this job.
Still conscious of him across the room, Emma reached for a stack. As she began to read the first letter, she tried to keep from glancing his way. She pushed the stack aside and picked up a tablet with a bold handwriting. The writing to be typed looked the most time-consuming, so she started with it. In minutes she managed to put Zach out of her thoughts.
When she finished each task, she placed it in the proper pile. Standing, she gathered the work she had completed and put papers for Zach into his in-box. His back was turned as he worked at his computer and she looked at the thick hair curling on the back of his head.
She had not expected to be working in the same room with him. Also, she hadn’t expected to work for someone who took her breath and set her pulse racing just by a glance from his sky-blue eyes.
With a deep sigh, she placed letters in the box for mail and then she started to file.
She looked across the room to see him setting papers in a pile. He picked up the letters in his in-box, glanced at her to catch her watching him again. She turned away to work on her computer, in seconds concentrating on what she was doing for the next half hour. She finished another stack and picked them up to take to his in-box and this time when she glanced his way, she met his gaze.
He seemed to be sitting and watching her. She picked up the papers and carried them to his desk, all the time aware of his steady observation.
As she started to put the letters into the box, he took them and riffled through them before looking at her. “You’re a fast worker. And an accurate one.”
“Thank you. I try to be.”
“I figured with all the work I’ve piled on you this morning, you’d be out of here as fast as the others.”
“I intend to stay,” she said, amused, and realizing he might have been testing to see how she worked. She went back to her desk, again having that tingly feeling across her shoulders, certain he was watching her.
When she glanced at him, he had settled back to read. In seconds, he placed the letter in the stack beside him on his desk.
What kind of man did she work for? When she had gone to work at Z.A.D. Enterprises, she hadn’t given much thought to the head of the business because she’d heard he was rarely in the Dallas office. The business comprised primarily of demolition, but also had a trucking company, an architectural firm and a concrete company. The international company had offices scattered worldwide and she heard Zachary Delaney traveled constantly from site to site, something she would detest. Other than that and the recent grumbling by Brenna, she knew little about him. Not one of the secretaries who had preceded her had said anything about his appeal, about his looks, about anything except he had proven difficult to work for. Maya, as well as Brenna, had thought he was unreceptive and uncommunicative. All had complained the workload was too heavy and she had to agree it was a lot, but it made time fly. On the other hand, around the office the word had always been that he was friendly. Perhaps part of his surly reputation with some secretaries was caused by his being injured and isolated on a ranch.
She returned to the stack, until she heard the scrape of a chair.
He stood and stretched, flexing muscles in his arms. When he glanced her way, she was embarrassed to be caught staring at him again.
“Want some lunch?” Without waiting for her answer, he motioned. “C’mon, we’ll get something to eat. Rosie will have something fixed.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I still have letters, though.”
“C’mon. You’ll like Rosie’s cooking and she’ll be disappointed if you don’t come eat. Those letters aren’t urgent.”
“Very well. You’re the boss and I don’t want to hurt her feelings.” Glancing at her watch, Emma was surprised it was half past twelve. “I didn’t realize the time.”
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” he said, grinning at her. Creases appeared on either side of his mouth in an enticing smile that caused her to smile in return.
“So, Emma, tell me about yourself since we’ll be working together for the next month or so.”
Satisfaction flared because he must mean she would get to stay. “There’s not much to tell. I’ve been at Z.A.D. for two years now. I have an apartment in Dallas and have two sisters and two brothers. My sisters, Sierra and Mary Kate, and Connor, my older brother, are married. Bobby and I are single. What about you?”
“I have two brothers, it was three, one is deceased. My older brother became guardian of our little niece, Caroline.”
“That’s sad. Is your niece’s mother deceased, too?”
“No, her mother walked out when Caroline was a baby. She didn’t want to be tied down with responsibilities, although she had a nanny and someone to cook and clean.”
“I can’t imagine,” Emma said, staring at him.
He shrugged. “One more thing to sour me on marriage. My older brother felt the same way until this year. He just married in September.”
“You don’t want to get married and have a family?”
His mouth quirked in a crooked smile. “Not even remotely. The weeks I’m spending here recuperating are probably the longest I’ve stayed home in Texas in I don’t know when. I’m a traveler.”
“I’ve heard you work all over the world and I know Z.A.D. has offices worldwide. I have a vastly different life. I don’t want to miss a weekend with my family.”
“We’re poles apart there,” he remarked with a smile, directing her into a large kitchen with an adjoining dining room that held a table and chairs, a sofa, a fireplace, two wingback chairs and a bar.
“What’s for lunch, Rosie? Something smells tempting,” he said, raising a lid on a pot on the stove. A stocky woman in a uniform bustled around the kitchen. Her graying hair was in a bun and glasses perched on her turned-up nose.
“Chicken soup there and I have quesadillas or turkey melt sandwiches—your preference.”
“How about soup, plus—” He paused and looked questioningly at Emma. “Either of the choices have any appeal?”
“Of course. Quesadillas, please.”
“Good choice. Rosie’s are special. Soup and quesadillas it is. We can help ourselves, Rosie.”
Bowls and plates were on the counter. With that steady awareness of him at her side, Emma helped herself to a small bowl of soup, surprised when Zach set down his dishes and held her chair as she sat down. The gesture made their lunch together seem far less like boss and secretary eating together than a man and a woman on a date. Rosie appeared with a coffeepot, which Emma declined and Zach accepted.
When he sat, she said, “I’m sure everyone asks, what drew you to demolition?”
“A child’s love of tearing something down, probably. I have an engineering degree and I almost went to architecture school. I have architects working for me so we build where we tear down. We build sometimes where nothing has stood. I find it fascinating work.”
“I hear you go all over the world.” She didn’t add that she knew he was wealthy enough he would never have to work a day if he didn’t want to.
The Delaney wealth was well publicized. She had never known anyone like him before. His love of travel was foreign to her. His disregard for family and marriage dismayed her even more than his apparent disregard for his family history. He had a lifestyle she could not imagine, but the head of the company was light-years from her clerical job, which provided an excellent way to save money to finish her college education.
“So, Zach, your favorite locale is where?” she asked as Rosie brought a platter with steaming quesadillas to set between them.
“There’s