Oh Stupid Heart (9 page)

Attending to Coco’s
coaching on how to treat good employees, he didn’t yell at Grant. Instead, he
warned him to be careful when he delegated, and not assume everyone here did
their jobs.

The guy snorted and
muttered something sounding like “no shit”.

He let it slide since
the fellow was temporary. Coco constantly bragged about her ability to
recognize and hire spectacular people, yet the spiky headed twerp didn’t come
close to being Carrie’s equal. How lucky he’d been when she’d seen his help
wanted ad on the lobby window and had come in to interview.

He scanned the crowd
of people coming out of the secure area. It was so hard to locate one tiny
person in a stream of humans. The best he could do was search for empty spaces
where she might occupy floor space. So far, those spaces had only held a baby
carriage and rolling luggage.

His search landed
upon a familiar face and, damn it all, she tipped her oversized black hat and
headed his way.

He groaned inwardly
even as he smiled outwardly. Madeline Landsworth, his mother’s best friend.
Since his parent’s death, she’d “taken him under her wing” as a second son.
Trent hadn’t enjoyed playing the obedient, obliging son for his real parents,
and he had no desire to play the role further, but he could never bring himself
to tell Madeline to mind her own business and stop meddling in his.

Slowly, he approached
the old woman, and kissed both her cheeks. She looked up and shook her head in
dismay. “I’ve been sick with worry over all the nonsense you’ve been up to.
Your mother must be weeping in her grave!”

He smiled sheepishly
and shrugged. His mother hated a scene and being arrested as a terrorist on
national TV probably qualified for a hundred scenes at once. “I didn’t do it on
purpose.”

“Don’t try your
nonsense with me. Of course, you did it on purpose. Men do not accidently get
caught up in these tragedies. They consciously step over the line, fully aware
of the shame and concern it will cause those who love them.”

Trent no longer
thought she spoke about his terrorist arrest, but honest to God, he had no clue
what she carried on about.

“Could you be a bit
more specific? Because I have no idea what’s upset you.”

She glanced around.
“Among all these people? Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll talk about it in your car
once we get my luggage.” She patted his arm. “I appreciate you coming to pick
me up.”

Trent opened his
mouth to tell the old woman he hadn’t come to pick her up, and she needed to
take a taxi, only he couldn’t. Madeline had probably never taken a taxi in her
life. The experience would send her to the hospital. Despite all her
feistiness, the old gal had a bad heart, severe arthritis, and in Trent’s
opinion, a fuzzy brain.

Glancing back, he
hoped to see Carrie, but realized if he did, he’d have to introduce her to
Madeline—a poor way to begin their reunion. The old matron’s tongue could
eviscerate someone as open and loving as Carrie.

He led the woman to
the luggage area, patiently helped her locate her bags, and carried the
old-fashioned hard suitcases as she scolded him for doing so.

“Where is your
driver?
He
should carry those. I have never been so embarrassed in my
life.”

“I had my driver park
in the loading zone. If he leaves the car, the police will have it towed.”

“Well you should have
located an airport servant.”

“They are all busy,
and you appear tired from your trip, so I’m moving matters along by carrying
your bags myself.”

She rewarded him with
a faint smile. “I appreciate your good intentions. Let us pray no one sees you
doing the work of the lower classes.”

When they reached the
car, Trent passed the luggage to Sam and assisted Madeline into the car. Since
she scolded him non-stop about something—he hadn’t been listening, but he knew
the scathing tone well enough—Trent didn’t have a chance to tell Sam to let Carrie
know he’d been delayed and wouldn’t be able to pick her up after all. He only
hoped she’d call him, so he could cryptically explain what happened.

As they left the
airport, his phone rang. He tried to answer it, which earned him a harsh
lecture from Madeline about his lack of manners. “You are talking to me. It is
most rude to engage another person in conversation. Let it go to message. Your
mother would be so ashamed at how you’ve turned out. Why your behavior is
almost feral these days.”

He didn’t answer his cell,
but all the constant anger he held as a boy came back in an instant. Nothing
he’d ever done had been good enough. And nothing has changed.

Madeline had
evidently felt she’d scolded enough because when his brain re-engaged she spoke
of a party she’d recently attended.

“Such a delightful
young woman. You two should meet. She’d be good for you.”

Never failed.
Madeline always had a nice girl for him to meet.

“Why don’t you come
to my house for lunch tomorrow? I will invite Taylor, as well.”

“Taylor Stanton?”

“Yes.”

He repressed a shiver
of repulsion. “I've already dated her.” Most boring woman he’d ever met.

“Years ago. You have
no doubt improved since.”

He almost pointed out
she’d just told him he’d gone completely feral, but held his tongue. He never
could go off on the old woman. His mother’s endless scoldings and lectures had
chiseled into his brain he must always respect the matrons of society. He’d
more likely curse God than a matron.

“I’m too busy at
work. We are going through a transformation.”

“A what?”

“I’m firing most of
my old employees and getting new ones who work.”

“You’d be better
leaving the business like your father left it to you. The company worked fine
when he had it.”

He rapped his fingers
on the window with agitation. What the hell did she know about running a
business? Not a God damn thing!

He stared out and gathered
his bearings. Five more minutes and he’d be rid of the woman.

“You do seem out of
sorts. I will have Charles pour you a drink when we get home.”

No way in hell would
he endure her the whole damn night. “I have matters to attend to tonight.”

She waved him off.
“I’m sure they can wait.”

“No, they can’t.”

She huffed. “Then you
force me to have our talk here.”

“Talk about what?”
The alarms in his head made him want to jump from the moving limo.

“Talk about the
serious mistake you are making becoming involved with a midget from New
Jersey.”

And there it was. The
disastrous scene she alluded to at the airport. Someone had told her about
Carrie. And he had a good idea who.

“Have you been
talking to Coco recently?”

“I have. She is most
concerned over your obsession with the young girl.”

“I gather we are
discussing my employee, Carrie, who lives in New Jersey, but is not a midget,
nor is she underage, which your last statement implied.”

“The name sounds
correct.”

“Rest assured,
whatever Coco told you is a lie. Carrie was my EA, but recently, due to Coco’s
unfounded jealousy, I made Carrie our change specialist and sent her to train
on the West Coast.”

“So she’s not your
mistress?”

“Absolutely not.”

Madeline gripped his
chin and turned his face to her. “I want the truth.”

He would have lied to
protect Carrie, but in this case he could tell the truth. “I swear on my
mother’s grave I have never had sex with my employee.”

She patted his cheek then
eyed him with concern “Are you dating Coco?”

“No. She is helping
me hire new employees, nothing more.”

“I don’t approve of
women working. It’s unseemly. I’ve spoken to Coco on several occasions. She
always smiles and agrees with my views but never follows through. I think
Taylor would make you a better wife.”

“Than Coco? I think
an angora rabbit would make me a better wife.”

The old woman
chuckled and slapped his leg. “Shame on you! What would you do if Coco heard
you say that?”

“Run.”

Another deep rumble
came from her chest. “I like you, Trent. You’re like my second son.”

“Have you heard from
Pete recently?” He and Pete use to share horrible parent stories over stolen
beer when they were kids.

“Who?”

“Your son.”

“Oh, Peter. I haven’t
spoken to him in years. He has no use for his mother anymore. Never mind all
the hard work I put into him. He’s become completely feral, probably rotting
away in a prison somewhere, hopefully under an assumed name.”

Trent envied the
fellow. How great must it be to have escaped the society matrons’ claws
entirely.

Carrie had acquired
her luggage, but still couldn’t find Trent. His absence disappointed her, but
why, she couldn’t fathom. She wasn’t here to remind him. He probably got
distracted and lost track of time.

The image of Trent
and Coco making love flashed before her eyes. She shook it off and dialed Sam.

“What?”

“Sam. It’s Carrie.
Any idea where Trent is?”

“He got waylaid by
one of the matrons of society at the airport. However, I called Mars and he was
supposed to arrange for a car to pick you up. Check the bad suits with signs for
your name.”

She scanned the group
of drivers. “Got him. Thank you for doing that.”

“Mars did it, not
me.”

“But you asked him
to, so thank you.”

“You don’t have to
thank me. It wasn’t a big deal. I would have done it for anyone.”

She shook her head at
his protest and set her luggage in front of the guy holding her name. He
grabbed it and tore off down the escalator.

Again?

“Could you slow
down,” Carrie called out and then sighed. “What are the chances a thief would
dress up like a limo driver?”

“He left you?”
Irritation came loud and clear over the phone.

“Long gone. Do you
think he’ll eventually notice he left me? Or will he drive my luggage out to
New Jersey and leave it on the doorstep?”

She expected Sam to
laugh, but he evidently found nothing funny about a fellow driver behaving
badly.

“I’m putting you on
hold; don’t hang up,” Sam warned.

Carrie went down the
escalators and exited the building, but remained at the door. She couldn’t see
her driver anywhere. Honestly, she’d never gotten a good look at him, so she
was searching for her luggage more than the guy. Thank God she hadn’t
relinquished her laptop and purse.

She was just about to
put Sam on hold and call a new limo service when he came back on the line.
“Where are you?”

“Outside the parking
entrance.”

“He should be driving
up soon. Evidently this is the service Trent uses, and he refuses to follow a
driver to the car. Instead, the fellow is expected to run full speed, while
carrying his luggage, get to the car, and drive it to the unloading area where
Trent will be impatiently waiting.”

Vintage Trent.
“Should I go upstairs to the arrival ramp?”

“Stay where you are,
or you and your driver will be playing cat and mouse all night.”

She heard the
screeching of tires before she spotted the black car turning the corner in the
parking lot and slamming on his brakes by the concrete blocks. Realizing he
couldn’t drive up to where she stood due to security restrictions, she walked
as fast as her high heels would allow. She tried to tell Sam her driver had arrived,
but the phone was dead.

Normally, she would
change out of her shoes before getting on the plane, but due to Ian’s talk, she’d
barely made her flight.

The driver ran to her
and tried his hardest to take her laptop and purse while he apologized. “Ma’am,
I am so sorry. I thought you wanted to wait at the unloading zone for arrivals.”

She held tight to her
belongings. “I prefer to carry my laptop and purse.”

Finally, he ceased
tugging and took two long strides then waited for her to catch up.

“Go on to the car.
I’ll get there eventually.”

“No ma’am. I’m not
running off and leaving you again. I am so sorry about that.”

His anxiety suggested
he feared for his job.

She patted his arm
the next time she caught up to him. “It’s all right. The problem was mine, not
yours. And I apologize for walking so slow, but my legs are tiny and my heels
are high.”

Her words earned her
a smile.

He calmed and walked
beside her. “My wife is tiny, as well.” He eyed Carrie and grinned with
amusement. “Bigger around than you, but don’t tell her I said so.”

Once inside the limo,
she called Sam back.

“Don’t you ever hang
up on me during a rescue,” he growled.

“I didn’t. The signal
was lost when walking from the building. It always happens. I think it’s some
security precaution.”

After a long pause,
he spoke in a normal tone. “That might be true.”

She barked a laugh of
shock. “I hope you didn’t just say I might be telling you the truth.”

“No. Your reason for
the phone not working. If they have a jammer, it would prevent someone triggering
a bomb with a cell.” He released a heavy sigh. “As far as I can tell, you never
lie. We should hang up now. Master Trent is calling you.”

The line went dead
and a second later her phone rang. She answered.

“Where are you?”

“In a limo headed for
New Jersey?”

“Tell him to turn
around and take you to the penthouse.”

“No. I want to go
home.”

“Are you mad at me
for not being there to meet you?”

“No. I’m just tired
from the plane ride.”

“You should know I
can tell when you’re lying to me.” His voice sounded so much like a petulant
teenager.

“It’s not a lie. I am
tired.”

“But it’s not why you
won’t come to the penthouse.”

“True.”

“Did you sleep with
Ian?” Trent yelled.

“No!”

A fierce release of
air blew through the phone like a tornado. “I warned him not to, but sometimes
when we were kids he’d do things just to piss me off. I’m glad to see he’s
grown up.”

“Not so much. His
flirting annoyed me, but he was such a great teacher I chose to ignore it.
However, someday he’s going to get hit with a sexual harassment suit.”

“It will never happen.
For some reason I’ve never understood, all women fall for him. But I was
confident you wouldn’t.”

His faith in her
touched and shamed her. He had trusted her enough to send her to the best
instructor even though he knew the guy would try to get her in bed, while she
spent the entire two weeks fretting Coco would manage to seduce Trent. “Thank
you so much for trusting me.”

“Don’t thank me too
much. When I finally remembered who the guy was, I almost canceled your
training and called you back, only then you’d be stuck here with Coco and I
didn’t want that.

She wished he didn’t
like to confess unwanted truths so much. Recalling Trent and Coco’s kiss at the
penthouse, she worried what else Coco had gotten Trent to do in her absence.
Didn’t matter, the wicked witch of Madison Avenue was gone. Trent had promised
to fire the she-devil before Carrie returned.

To make him glad he
did, she shared Ian’s confession. “Which reminds me, Coco offered Ian $20,000 to
seduce me and take pictures. Would you mind if I get a shot of gerbils mating
and send them to her anonymously? She’ll probably think they are from Ian, but
it would be so funny.”

Trent chuckled. “God,
I love you.”

She took his response
as a yes and searched the pictures on her laptop for the frisky gerbils someone
had sent her.

She purchased an
untraceable, temporary email box, culled Coco’s personal email from an email
Trent had forwarded to her, attached the image, and sent it on. She almost
regretted Coco no longer worked for them because then she could send out a
companywide email warning not to open pictures of gerbils since they carried a
virus.

“What are you doing?”
Trent asked.

“Being revengeful and
bad.”

“To whom?”

“Guess.”

“Do you possess a
picture of gerbils mating?”

“I do.”

He laughed aloud.
“Don’t tell me any more, because I will need to look shocked when she sees it.”

Carrie’s humor
disappeared. “She’s not gone yet?”

“Unfortunately, no.
None of the sales managers accepted the job.”

“I think as the
change specialist I need to be involved.”

“You don’t want to
work with Coco, trust me.”

“I don’t. But I need
to ensure she’s hiring the right people for the job. My gut says she isn’t.”

“You’re thinking
about my EA.”

“I haven’t liked
anyone she’s hired.”

“Who beside Grant
have you met?”

Good point. She didn’t
like Grant’s girlfriend Angela, but Trent had picked her, not Coco. “Isn’t one
horrible employee enough?”

“He’s been okay.”

She humphed. “I
should let you go. I’m almost home.”

“I’m not ready to
hang up yet.”

She sighed and
smiled. Despite his faults, he was genuinely adorable. If only he weren’t a
different species.

Carrie tried to pay
the driver with her no limit credit card, but he waved her off. “It’s already
been paid.”

“Oh, well can I give
you a tip?”

“No, ma’am. I’ll see
you to your door and wish you good night.”

Once she was inside,
Trent spoke. “Describe the driver?”

At first she thought
he might be jealous, but she didn’t hear any anger in his voice, only
curiosity.

“Tall, black guy
about two hundred sixty pounds, short hair, nice white teeth, forty to fifty
years old.”

Another humph.

“Why?”

“He’s never been half
so nice to me.”

She told him about
her mistake in the airport as she lugged her suitcase up the stairs.

“Why would you follow
him?”

“For normal people
the limo driver expects a passenger to walk with him to the car so he can get
on his way with the least amount of trouble.”

“Huh! Why are you
breathing so hard?”

“I’m dragging my case
up the stairs.” With one hand, since the other held the phone, but she didn’t
mention that.

“I’ll carry it for
you, if you’ll open the door,” Trent offered.

She stopped and
stared at her front door.
Did Trent follow me home?
Leaving her suitcase
perilously balanced on a step, she hurried downstairs and peeked through the peep
hole. Her heart swelled with love.

Trent stood on the
other side with a bouquet of flowers suspiciously similar to those in her front
yard. She opened the door and he gathered her into his arms. “I’ve missed you.”
He teased open her lips and took possession of her mouth until she groaned in
pleasure. Lowering her until her feet touched the floor, he presented her the
flowers, mauled from being in his care during their hug and kiss.

Definitely from her
garden. “Thank you. How’d you figure out I like garden phlox, Malva alcea, day
lilies, Echinacea, and white daisies?” She carried them to the solarium to choose
a vase and give them water.

Trent followed like a
puppy. “Why else would you plant them?”

As she filled the
vase with water, he pressed against her back. “You don’t mind I thinned your
flower beds a bit, do you?”

“Not since you gave
me the bouquet.”

“I intended to give
them to Coco, but you sent her gerbils instead.”

Carrie turned and
gripped him by the lapels of his suit and playfully attempted to shake him,
“Don’t you ever give my flowers to Coco.”

“Okay, but for the
record, she’d hate them.”

“Why?”

“She only wants rare
orchids in an expensive crystal vase.”

“Well, I think these
are prettier than an orchid.”

“They are,” he
murmured as he nibbled her ear. “They might be ‘common,’ but they have the
ability to lighten my heart. No orchid has ever done so.”

Her heart fluttered
with happiness. Trent not only didn’t slight her for being a common flower; he
thought her superior to all the social orchids he’d dated.

She no longer cared
how many people had warned their co-species relationship wouldn’t last. She
loved him, and she needed to express her adoration in all ways, including
physically. Being cautious made no sense to her. He’d taken claim of her heart,
sex or no sex.

A loud thud sounded
from the living room. Trent tensed. “Stay here,” he whispered.

“I think my luggage
got tired of waiting for me and fell down the stairs.”

He shushed her and
crept forward.

She placed the vase
on the solarium coffee table and followed him.

“Stay back,” he
ordered.

When he headed to the
kitchen, she walked through the living room to the second floor staircase.
There, at the bottom of the steps, lay her suitcase.

“Found the cause of
the noise.”

He came running,
pulled her into his arms, and carried her up the steps, not releasing her until
he threw her on her bed. “Did Ian train you to ignore one’s boss and do what
you want?”