you going to
follow any of it?”
“Every bit of it.”
His eyebrows rose.
“Even the personal advice?”
She laughed softly
and freed her hand from his grasp. “Even the none-of-your-business, personal
advice. You aren’t the first person who’s warned me about this.”
“Yet, you still want
him.”
“The heart wants what
it wants.”
He leaned down and
kissed her lightly on her lips. “Don’t I know it? Never let him break you and
don’t forget my offer.”
“I won’t.”
As Carrie slipped
into the black sedan waiting outside and headed to the airport, she wished
she’d not committed to having sex with Trent. Ian’s warning had brought the
harsh reality of the huge gulf between them. They truly were two different
species.
***
Trent stared with
impatience at the airport monitor. The screen declared the plane had arrived,
so where the hell was Carrie?
While she had a great
time in San Francisco, he’d endured a horrible time here. He had yet to hire a
sales manager. He had offered the job to three, but they’d all accepted other
positions. And he wasn’t sure about the new systems manager. He wanted Carrie’s
opinion.
Jack, the
workfor-cookies system person, had returned on Monday so everyone would be
paid, and Carrie’s expense check had been sent to her home address. He had
specifically asked his new EA to have it wired to her bank account, but the
idiot delegated the job to someone in accounting and of course it didn’t get
done.
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
follow any of it?”
“Every bit of it.”
His eyebrows rose.
“Even the personal advice?”
She laughed softly
and freed her hand from his grasp. “Even the none-of-your-business, personal
advice. You aren’t the first person who’s warned me about this.”
“Yet, you still want
him.”
“The heart wants what
it wants.”
He leaned down and
kissed her lightly on her lips. “Don’t I know it? Never let him break you and
don’t forget my offer.”
“I won’t.”
As Carrie slipped
into the black sedan waiting outside and headed to the airport, she wished
she’d not committed to having sex with Trent. Ian’s warning had brought the
harsh reality of the huge gulf between them. They truly were two different
species.
***
Trent stared with
impatience at the airport monitor. The screen declared the plane had arrived,
so where the hell was Carrie?
While she had a great
time in San Francisco, he’d endured a horrible time here. He had yet to hire a
sales manager. He had offered the job to three, but they’d all accepted other
positions. And he wasn’t sure about the new systems manager. He wanted Carrie’s
opinion.
Jack, the
workfor-cookies system person, had returned on Monday so everyone would be
paid, and Carrie’s expense check had been sent to her home address. He had
specifically asked his new EA to have it wired to her bank account, but the
idiot delegated the job to someone in accounting and of course it didn’t get
done.
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
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