Fair Game (29 page)

“That’s my girl, you got it.”

“Except that it might already be past the point of no return.” She dipped her head. “We sort of had a little gunfight in the cafeteria.”

“Josie, Josie, Josie.” He shook his head, a frown of overdone sadness on his face. “You have to learn to think before you speak.”

“I know. It’s a big fault of mine.”

“Doesn’t matter, though. Just pretend it never happened.”

She huffed out a breath, jutting her chin forward. “You can’t just pretend something like that away.”

“You’d be surprised what you can pretend, baby girl.” Then he lowered his eyebrows. “Unless it’s your mistake. That goes for a boss, a subordinate, or a significant other. If it’s yours, own up to it and apologize.”

She leaned back in the chair and popped the footrest up. “You know, Ernie, I underestimated you all these years. You’re a veritable fountain of knowledge.”

He laughed, and God, it looked good, even if his face was puffy with whatever drugs they had him on. “Baby girl, you underestimate
yourself
. Now, Lydia or Chuck next?”

She wagged her head back and forth. “Chuck.” Lydia was a whole different bowl of goo.

“You handled it the best way you can. It’ll blow over.”

“Did you ever have that problem before?”

The smile was slow in coming, but it finally sparkled all the way to his eyes. “Chuck likes to complain, and he wants his complaints validated. Lydia hasn’t figured out where the line of familiarity ends.” Then he shrugged. “You’ve discussed it with Chuck, talked to Lydia about it, HR got involved. Issue over.”

“It can’t be this easy.”

Ernie reached for his coffee cup, blew on it though it had already cooled, then sipped. “It’s not easy. You’ll get sick to death of the crap that comes into your office. Some days you’ll just want to shout, ‘People, get a life!’ ”

She already wanted to shout that from the rooftops, and she’d only managed for a month.

He grinned. “Want your old job back?”

She snorted. “No.” A very big 33 percent of her did. “Lydia, though, I think I’ve said all I can say.”

Ernie gazed at her for several seconds. “Lydia’s a sweet girl, but she’s a bit of a drama queen. She doesn’t need your advice because she’ll figure it out on her own. She just needs you to listen to her. She’s a fine worker, but she needs babying. She wants to think you love her and care about her.”

“I’m not her psychiatrist, for God’s sake.” Or the girl’s mother. It seemed ridiculous. Josie would never have considered telling Ernie anything so personal. Should a boss have to listen to all this to keep her workers happy? “I don’t think you need to mollycoddle your employees.”

“As a boss, you give them what they need in order to get the best out of them. Being a good manager is figuring out what that ‘need’ is and fulfilling it. Within reason, of course.”

“So for Lydia, it’s having someone listen to her and care about her?” It seemed too simple yet at the same time a bit terrifying. She couldn’t sit and listen without needing to tell Lydia how to fix it.

Ernie gave a quick shake of his head. “You don’t have to fix it for her.”

“I did not say that out loud,” she said.

“You’re an open book. But
you
”—he pointed—“are doing fine.” He leaned back against his pillows. “Just don’t take everything so seriously. Mellow out, baby girl.”

Ernie hadn’t solved her problems. He could be right. He could as easily be wrong. What he’d said sounded so simplistic. Too easy. Still, she felt immeasurably better.

She stayed a while after that, told him all the latest gossip—except her own—laughed with him, talked with him, let him call her
baby girl
, and tried to pretend he wasn’t dying.

On the way out, Glo gave her a long, tight hug. “You made him feel good, important. Needed.” She patted Josie’s cheek, and whispered, “Thank you.”

It was four thirty. She debated going back to work or going home. She wanted some time to process everything Ernie had said, come up with a plan of action. Because no matter how many times Ernie told her not to take it all so seriously, she
had
to have an action plan. That wouldn’t happen if she went back to the office. She’d get caught up in . . . stuff.

Then again, she would see Kyle. If she was going to take advice from Ernie, then maybe she shouldn’t be so harsh when Kyle gave her advice. It was her ego getting in the way.

Home or the office? Eenie, meenie, minie . . . Kyle.

She took the freeway exit for Castle.

 

 

 

IN the chair opposite, Josie crossed her legs. Having been out at the quarry, she was wearing those sexy steel-toed boots again. They made it damn hard to concentrate on what she was saying.

Kyle rose, shifting to sit on the edge of his desk so he could see them better.

“And that’s the plan,” she said, giving him a pretty smile.

“That sounds more like doing nothing.”

“No. It’s letting bygones be bygones. If Ronson wants to continue it, he’s going to have to act badly, and that will make him look idiotic.”

“Josie—”

She held up a finger. He wanted to take the tip in his mouth, suck it. He simply raised one eyebrow, letting her go on.

“I want to try this. If it doesn’t work, I’ll rethink.”

She looked calmer after her visit with Ernie Masters. She looked like the woman he met the first day—confident, competent.

“All right.” He doubted changing her behavior would have an effect on Ronson. In his opinion, the man was too far gone. He was pissed at the world, not just Josie. But she’d come back from Ernie’s all fired up. Kyle wouldn’t put her down now.

Nor would he wait until the situation was a powder keg or a lawsuit waiting to happen. “You’re back on Monday. We’ll see how it goes in the meeting. I’ll give you a couple of days to gauge the effect on Ronson, then we’ll revisit the issue.”

“Thank you.”

He glanced at the wall clock. “It’s after five.”

She turned her wrist to confirm. “So it is. I’ve got work to do.” She started to rise.

“Sit.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“It’s after five, business is over. I want to know what you’re wearing on Friday.”

“To the supervisor’s training?” A playful light flickered in her eyes.

“Friday night.”

She glanced behind. “Your office door is open.”

“I can close it.”

“No, that would be even worse.”

“Talk softly then.” He kept his eye on the hall outside.

She rolled her eyes. “I haven’t decided.”

“Then I’ll decide for you.”

Lowering her chin, she gazed at him through her lashes. “Which is what you wanted to do anyway.”

Of course he did. “I want you in all black. High heels, the fishnet stockings, short skirt, preferably leather, and a tight top. Lycra would be good. Something stretchy.”

She made a face. “Eww.”

“What is
eww
about it?”

“That sounds like Little Miss Snowflake’s attire.”

“Not at all.” For a moment, he couldn’t remember what the hell Kisa wore, only what Josie had done to him in the car, her scent, her taste.

“It is,” she insisted.

He folded his arms over his chest. “Do I have to make this an order?”

The rap on wood startled him. Connor Kingston stood in the doorway. “Is she flouting orders already?”

Josie gasped, her eyes flew to Kyle’s. She swallowed visibly.

Kyle merely smiled. “I think we’re beginning to see eye-to-eye, but she certainly does have her own way of doing things.”

“I’ll say. But she’s good.”

Josie turned in the chair, bracing herself with one hand on the back. “You know, I’m right here. If you want to talk
about
me, I’ll just leave.”

Connor held up a hand. “No. I don’t want to interrupt your meeting.”

“We’re done,” she said, with an edge Kyle hoped Connor didn’t pick up on. She turned back. “I’ll be at the supervisor training Thursday and Friday, but I’ll have my computer so I can check e-mails on break, and if there’s anything urgent, you can leave me a voice mail.”

That was his Josie, thorough, professional. “Sounds great. Have a good time.”

She eyed him as if there was a double message in that, which of course there was, then she gave him a polite employee-to-boss smile and left.

As he ushered Connor in, he wondered whether she’d wear what he told her to. Or surprise him. Either way, she was his for the night.

 

 

 

GOD, that had been a close call. That’s why she didn’t want to even
talk
non-business with the man while they were at work.
Anyone
could drop in, or eavesdrop. What if Connor had overheard Kyle detailing her clothes, for God’s sake?

Of course, she stopped at the mall on the way home to find a Lycra top. She had everything else, except that the skirt wasn’t leather the way he wanted. Instead, it was a short, pleated school-girl style. She liked the effect of it with the fishnet stockings, the good and bad girl all rolled into one.

That night, she stopped in the midst of packing her bag. “Why are you doing this, everything he wants,
anything
he wants?”

It wasn’t like she had an answer, but excitement thrummed through her blood. Picking out clothing to wear for him tantalized her. In the store, she’d fingered the top, thinking of him, and she’d actually gotten wet. Stripping down in the dressing room to try it on, she’d touched herself. She hadn’t played, but she stood in front of the mirror with her hand in her panties and imagined how hard he’d get watching her. She especially remembered the lingerie shop.

She left early Thursday morning to avoid the traffic. The two days of seminars were common sense, plus studying the applicable laws. God, there was a law for
everything
.

Nothing blew up in her absence, no emergency e-mails or hysterical voice mails. Not even from Lydia. Josie hadn’t seen her on Wednesday when she’d returned to work. Okay, she’d pathetically rushed right to Kyle’s office, so she hadn’t spoken to Lydia about her
predicament
. Truly, was the girl’s only need a shoulder to cry on and a boss who cared?

Who knew? Lydia was . . . different. Supervisory training hadn’t offered any miraculous answers. Though Josie was glad to learn that her experiences weren’t the wackiest. One woman had an employee who’d climbed under his desk and wouldn’t come out. They’d had to call his wife, who had in turn called his mother.

After class ended Friday evening, the training group met for dinner in the hotel restaurant. Josie couldn’t concentrate. Even making conversation with these relative strangers was damn near beyond her.

Kyle would be here in another two hours and thirty-five minutes. She wanted to soak in the tub with a glass of wine, shave, use a sweetly scented body scrub she’d purchased, then smooth lotion all over. She wanted to smell sweet for him, her skin smooth for his touch.

She’d never prepped like that for a man before.

By the time he knocked on her hotel room door, she had the jitters. That was something new, too. Men were just men, dates were just dates. Kyle was different.

He looked her over. “Hot.” Then he raised a brow. “I think I like this skirt even better than what I had in mind. Lots of things are possible.”

Her heart rate went up a notch thinking about the ideas running through his mind. Dressed in black jeans and a black, button-down shirt, he made her mouth water.

“Will you keep my card key for the room? I don’t want to take a purse.” She didn’t want to lose it in a place like that.

“Good idea.” He put her card in his back pocket. “A purse would get in the way.” He held out his hand. “Shall we go?”

She could change her mind. She had no clue what he’d make her do. Or make her watch
him
do. Somehow that was the more horrifying prospect. She hated her jealousy all over again.

Putting her hand in his, she determined to get over it before she ruined the sexy thing they had going. “I’m ready.”

The place wasn’t far, and though it was well after nine on a Friday in the city, Kyle had no problem finding parking. Amazing. In San Francisco, people usually circled like buzzards searching for a spot, especially on the weekend.

Kyle came to her side, but she was already out. She’d never been one to stand on that kind of ceremony. “This is it?”

“This is it.” Kyle nodded, gazing up at the elaborate plasterwork.

The facade was typical San Francisco, with a walk-up to a recessed doorway and curlicue bars over the long windows. She’d been expecting more of the discotheque look, with a crowd mingling outside. This was a quiet neighborhood street, the few shops on the corners long closed for the night. As they watched, a couple entered. Mid-thirties probably, the guy wore regular jeans, the woman a calf-length skirt, nothing out of the ordinary.

“It’s not what I expected.”

“They don’t advertise what’s going on inside,” Kyle said. “No single guys, only couples or women. At the slightest hint of a problem, they boot the troublemakers.”

She turned slightly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “So, you come here often.”

He smiled, took her hand, and pulled her to the stoop. “I’ve only heard about it.”

“Yeah, right. That’s what they all say.”

He squeezed her fingers. “I swear on a stack of bibles.”

She stopped on the sidewalk. “You don’t think we’ll know anyone in there, do you?”

He glanced at her, shook his head, then let out a small, exasperated puff of breath. “I seriously doubt that Castle Heavy Mining is infested with perverts like us.”

“But those people looked so normal.” She considered that she and Kyle looked normal, too, but really, she couldn’t see any of her coworkers entering a place like this. She couldn’t imagine any of her friends attending either. Truthfully, she was the only pervert she knew. Except maybe Rick or Paul. But then if they saw her, it wouldn’t matter. Besides, she didn’t think they were this imaginative.