How To Sleep With The Boss. Janice Maynard

How To Sleep With The Boss - Janice  Maynard


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her amply rounded belly a match for her almost palpable aura of contentment. “The girl’s a natural. We’ve already had four clients who have rebooked for future dates based on their interactions with Libby. I can honestly say that I’m going to be able to walk away from here without a single qualm.”

      “And the outdoor component?”

      Charlise’s glow dimmed. “Well, maybe a tiny qualm.”

      “It’s one thing to run this place like a hotel. But you and I both know we work like dogs when we take a group out in the woods.”

      “True. But Libby has enthusiasm. That goes a long way.”

      “Up until a year ago I imagine she was enjoying pedicures at pricey Park Avenue salons. Hobnobbing with Fortune 500 executives who worked with her dad. It’s a good bet she never had anyone steal her lunch money.”

      Charlise gave him a loaded look. “You’re a Kavanagh, Patrick. Born with a silver spoon and everything that goes with it. Silver Reflections is your baby, but you could walk away from it tomorrow and never have to work another day in your life.”

      “Fair enough.” He scratched his chin. “There’s one other problem. I told Libby that she would have to dress the part if she planned to work here. But she’s still wearing her deliberately frumpy skirts and sweaters. Is that some kind of declaration of independence? Did I make a faux pas in bringing up her clothing?”

      “Oh, you poor, deluded man.”

      “Why does no one around here treat me with respect?”

      Charlise ignored his question. “Your mother offered to buy Libby a suitable wardrobe, but your newest employee is independent to say the least. She’s waiting to go shopping until this afternoon when she gets her first paycheck.”

      “Oh, hell.”

      “Exactly.”

      “Wait a minute,” he said. “Why can’t she wear the clothes she had when her dad went to prison? I’ll bet she owned an entire couture wardrobe.”

      “She did,” Charlise said, her expression sober. “And she sold all those designer items to pay for her mom’s treatments. Apparently the sum total of what she owns can now fit into two suitcases.”

      Patrick seldom felt guilty about his life choices. He did his best to live by a code of honor Maeve had instilled in all her boys. Do the right thing. Be kind. Never let ambition trump human relationships.

      He had hired Libby. Now it was time to let her know she had his support.

      * * *

      Libby was in heaven. After months of wallowing in uncertainty and despair, now having a concrete reason to get up every morning brought her something she hadn’t found in a long time...confidence and peace.

      For whatever reason, Patrick Kavanagh had made himself scarce during Libby’s first two weeks. He’d left the training and orientation entirely up to Charlise. Which meant Libby didn’t constantly have to be looking over her shoulder. With Charlise, Libby felt relaxed and comfortable.

      They had hit it off immediately. So much so that Libby experienced a pang of regret to know Charlise wouldn’t be coming back after today. Just before five, Libby went to Charlise’s office holding a small package wrapped in blue paper printed with tiny airplanes. Charlise and her accountant husband were looking forward to welcoming a fat and healthy baby boy.

      Libby knocked at the open door. “I wanted to give you this before you go.”

      Charlise looked up from her chore of packing personal items. Her eyes were shiny with tears. “You didn’t have to do that.”

      “I wanted to. You’ve been so patient with me, and I appreciate it. Are you okay? Is anything wrong?”

      Charlise reached for a tissue and blew her nose. “No. I don’t know why I’m so emotional. I’m very excited about the baby, and I want to stay at home with him, but I love Silver Reflections. It’s hard to imagine not coming here every day.”

      “I’ll do my best to keep things running smoothly while you’re gone.”

      “No doubts on that score. You’re a smart cookie, Libby. I feel completely confident about leaving things in your hands.”

      “I hope you’ll bring the baby to see us when the weather is nice.”

      “You can count on it.” She opened the gift slowly, taking care not to rip the paper. “Oh, Libby, this is beautiful. But it must have been way too expensive.”

      Libby grimaced. She had been very honest with Charlise about her current financial situation. “It’s an antique of sorts. A family friend gave it to my parents when I was born, engraved with the initial L. When I heard you say were going to name the baby Lander, after your father, I knew I wanted you to have it.”

      “But you’ve kept it all this time. Despite everything that’s happened. It must have special meaning.”

      When Libby looked at the silver baby cup and bowl and spoon, her heart squeezed. “It does. It did. I think I held on to the set as a reminder of happier times. But the truth is, I don’t need it anymore. I’m looking toward the future. It will make me feel good to know your little boy is using it.”

      Charlise hugged Libby tightly. “I’ll treasure it.”

      Libby glanced at her watch. “I need to let you get out of here, but may I ask you one more thing before you go?”

      “Of course.”

      “How did you get this job working with Patrick?”

      “My husband and Patrick’s brother Aidan are good friends. When Patrick put out the word that he was starting Silver Reflections, Aidan hooked us up.”

      “And the high-adventure stuff?”

      Charlise shrugged. “I’ve always been a tomboy. Climbing trees. Racing go-karts. Broke both arms and legs before I made it to college. At different times, thank goodness.”

      “Good grief.” Libby thought about her own cocoon-like adolescence. “Do you really think I can handle the team building and physical challenges in the outdoors?”

      The other woman paused, her hand hovering over a potted begonia. “Let me put it this way...” She picked up the plant and put it in a box. “I think you’ll be fine as long as you believe in yourself.”

      “What does that mean?”

      “I’ve heard you talk about Patrick. He intimidates you.”

      “Well, I—” Libby stopped short, unable to come up with a believable lie. “Yes.”

      “Don’t let him. He may come across as tough and intense at times, but underneath it all, he’s a pussycat.”

      A broad-shouldered masculine frame filled the doorway. “I think I’ve just been insulted.”

       Two

      Libby was mortified to be caught discussing her new boss. Charlise only laughed.

      Patrick went to the pregnant woman and kissed her cheek, placing his hand lightly on her belly. “Tell that husband of yours to call me the minute you go to the hospital. And let me know if either of you needs anything...anything at all.”

      Charlise got all misty-eyed again. “Thanks, boss.”

      “It won’t be the same without you,” he said.

      “Stop that or you’ll make me cry again. Libby knows everything I know. She’s exactly who you need... I swear.”

      Patrick smiled. “I believe you.” He turned to Libby. “How about dinner tonight? I’ve tried to stay out of the way while Charlise showed


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