Midnight Under the Mistletoe. Sara Orwig
feet Zach had swiveled in his chair and watched Emma leave the room, but his many phone calls had demanded his focus. Now, he glanced down at a letter on his desk she had typed. “I’ll make the call at 8:00 in the morning your time and see if we can’t get this worked out quickly,” he said into the phone. “Right, Todd. I’ll let you know. It’s too late there to call anyone now.” He replaced the receiver, glanced at his watch and sighed.
His cell phone indicated a call and he answered because it was Will.
“Can you talk now?” Will asked.
“Yes. We’ve had problems on a job and I’ve been on and off the phone for the past two hours.”
“I’ve gotten a busy signal once. How’s it going with the new secretary or is it too early to tell?”
Zach glanced again at the letter on the desk. “She’s a good secretary. I don’t think she’ll last though. She’s totally wound into her family in Dallas, which is several hours away from here, probably too far. They live, breathe, eat and stay together most of the time.”
“Just say the word and I’ll get someone else sent out.”
“Not yet,” Zach said, thinking about Emma’s green eyes. “She’s efficient. She’s sentimental—you’d think these old letters were worth a million the way she views them. She can’t keep from telling me I shouldn’t shred them.”
Will laughed. “Another one telling you what to do?”
“No, not like the first one. Emma’s just so into families, she can’t understand that I’m not treasuring every word from our ancestor. He was probably a tough old guy, even tougher than Dad. Why would I treasure every word he uttered?”
“You’re a little more irreverent than most descendants would be. I’m a little curious about them, so I want to read a few and see what’s in those boxes.”
“You can have them, Will.”
“No. You volunteered. You just need the right secretary to help you. Sounds to me as if you don’t have a good fit yet and I should send someone.”
“No. She’s an excellent secretary. I’ve piled on the work and she’s done it accurately and quickly. I don’t want to dump her because she likes the box of old letters.”
“True. At least she may really read them.”
“Oh, she’ll read them all right,” Zach said, smiling as he remembered Emma poring over the one, her head bent. Her red hair held gold strands and a healthy shine. She had it pinned up, but strands spilled free and indicated long hair. Long hair and long legs.
“We’ll leave in a few weeks for Colorado. If you change your mind and want to come along, or to spend Thanksgiving with us, let me know.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine. My new secretary was a little shocked when she learned I’m spending the holiday alone. She invited me to join her family.”
There was a moment’s pause. “You two are getting to know each other.”
“How can we avoid it? Remember, we work all day together and there are just the two of us here except when we see Rosie or Nigel.”
“If you were Ryan, I’d ask if she’s good-looking, but I’ve heard you talk too often about avoiding dating employees.”
“You and I have agreed that’s a complication no one needs in his life. I don’t want any part of that kind of trouble,” he said, thinking about her full lips and hearing a hollow sound to his words. “There’s no need to bring emotions into the workplace—at least the kind of emotions that a relationship would create. Common sense says no way,” he added, more to himself than Will.
“It worked with Ava.”
“Yeah, but you hired her to work with Caroline—that was different from an office situation and you know it. It’s not going to happen here. I get looks from her like I’m from another planet with my feelings about holidays, families and memorabilia.”
Will laughed. “I can imagine that one. There are times you get those looks from me. Ryan is the baby brother and he accepts whatever we do.”
“Yeah. I do get those looks from you, but I don’t know why because you’re like me about sentiment. Or at least you were until Ava and Caroline. Especially Caroline. They’ve mellowed you until I hardly know you.”
“You ought to try it sometime,” Will answered lightly. “I’ll talk to you before we leave for Colorado.”
“Sure, Will. Thanks for the invitation. Tell Ava I said thanks.” Zach ended the call and swung his chair around to look out the window without really seeing anything outside. Envisioning Emma, he wanted to be with her again. He had just blown the sensible course. He should have let Will send out another secretary, yet how could he get rid of Emma when her secretarial skills were excellent and she wanted the job? He couldn’t send her back because of the steamy chemistry between them.
“Keep it strictly business,” he whispered, lecturing himself. Stay away from her except when working. Don’t share lunches or dinners or anything else outside of the office and work. Willpower. Resoluteness.
Thinking of the problems on the project in Maine, the buildings the company had bought and intended to replace with one large building, a parking garage and a landscaped area, he tossed down a pen and returned to thinking about Emma. He wanted to have dinner with her, but hadn’t he just resolved to avoid her? He didn’t want to get involved with an employee, especially a sentimental homebody who could barely leave her family and especially an employee living under the same roof with him. It could complicate his life beyond measure to have her expect some kind of commitment from him and to have rumors flying at the office. He didn’t want tears and a scene when he told her goodbye. Thoughts of any of those things gave him chills.
She didn’t look like a sentimental homebody, at least his idea of one. Her full red lips, the mass of red hair that was caught up on her head hinted at a wild, party-loving woman. The reactions she had to just a look from him implied a sensuous, responsive lover.
“Damn,” he said aloud. Taking a deep breath, he yanked papers in front of him.
Wiping his brow, he leaned over his desk and tried to concentrate on tasks at hand. After two minutes he shoved aside papers and stood. He should send her away, get her out of his life, but the chemistry he wanted to avoid made it impossible to think about giving her up. No matter what he’d just told himself, he wanted to be with Emma—what could a dinner hurt?
With a glance at his watch, he saw he had probably already missed her and a hot dinner from Rosie. Annoyed he would have to eat alone, he headed to the kitchen, hoping Emma was still there.
His disappointment when she wasn’t bothered him even more than her absence. Since when had he started to look forward to being with her so much?
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