Fair Game (15 page)

Lydia scowled. “Yeah, I got it. I’m not getting a raise.”

“Like everyone else, you’ll get a raise when your review time comes.” Jeez, she should have said
that
when Lydia first tried to railroad her. “Just don’t do anything else that will have to go in your file.”

“Things used to be fun when Ernie was here. Now it’s like some Nazi concentration camp.” Lydia stood and flounced to the door, her short skirt swinging. “I won’t ever touch a guy around here again.” Opening the door, she whispered, “Nazi,” and was gone.

“That went well,” Josie muttered. She wondered how Ernie would have handled the whole thing. Hmm, Ernie wouldn’t have had the problem in the first place. Her employees were testing her, seeing how far they could push her limits. Sort of like Kyle.

That was all it took. Her total inability to determine how to subdue her staff gave rise to a damn near Machiavellian plan for her next challenge with Kyle. Oh yeah. This was gonna be good. He wouldn’t know what hit him.

After a morning of Lydia’s pouting, it was about eleven when Josie figured out that maybe Connor would have all the answers. Not about doing Kyle, but about Ronson, Eastman, and Lydia.

She stopped on his doorsill. “Hey, you.”

Connor wasn’t alone. Faith cooed to her little guy cradled in her husband’s arms. Seeing Connor hold the baby so tenderly with that gooey look on his face always gave Josie a shock. He was transformed from tough guy to sap. Okay, that sounded totally negative. Faith and little David transformed Connor into something lovable.

“Hey, Little D, your auntie Josie’s here.” Faith smiled and waved the baby’s fist at Josie.

David was so tiny, his hands almost too small to wrap around her finger. Josie had been terrified to hold him in the hospital in case she squeezed him too hard or, God forbid, dropped him.

He wasn’t any less fragile now, like a porcelain doll. Breakable. She’d never played with dolls when she was a kid. She’d played with dump trunks even if she hadn’t had a sandbox in which to put them. Still, Josie rounded the desk and made appropriate noises. “He’s a cutie.” Though his face was a tad smooshed.

Faith laughed. “It’s okay. You don’t have to lie for the doting parents. I know you’re not a kid person.”

“I swear it, he’s adorable.”

“But you’re very glad he’s ours and not yours.”

Josie let her glance slide from Faith to the doting daddy. Connor’s face shone, like an angel or something. As Josie’s mom had said, Faith hadn’t lost all the baby fat, but so what? She’d never been the model-thin type anyway, and now she was beautiful. Motherhood and wifehood or whatever the hell it was called . . . love gave Faith everything she needed. Her happiness glowed from within and made her absolutely gorgeous. She was meant to be a mother; she was meant to love her fabulous husband. She was meant for this life.

Josie grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, you’re right, I’m glad he’s yours.” She was meant to be a career woman. Babies made her jittery, but she bent over to do the obligatory coochy-coo thing, eliciting another laugh from Faith.

With Little D still in his arms, Connor glanced up at Josie. “What’dya need, sweetie?” The endearment rolled off his tongue. Josie was pretty sure he didn’t even hear it. He was . . . different around Faith and the baby.

“I was just—” Just what? Wanting to dump her problems in his lap? Whine about her crappy employees who were making her new job miserable? Tell him she was failing? No way. “I want to ask for your approval on attending a supervisory seminar to bone up on my managerial skills. I found one in the city. It’s a couple of days next month.”

“Yeah, sure, fine. Everything happened so quickly with Masters that we didn’t have time to plan.” He bent down and kissed his son’s nose. Faith smiled.

Josie’s heart turned over, a one-second roller coaster ride. She didn’t want what they had, but there was something about the beauty of it, the level of emotion that almost seemed to shimmer around them. When she was twenty-one, in college, falling hard, she could have dreamed about having this.

“The commute’s a bitch,” Connor added, “so get a hotel.”

“In San Francisco?” Her voice rose to a squeak. “That’s astronomical in the summertime.” And not much better in the winter. “I am not getting the company to pay for that.”

“Josie”—Connor stared her down—“get a hotel room. I consider an hour and a half drive each way four days in a row to be too much wasted time.”

Well, he was the boss, and the drive
was
horrendous. “Fine. I think they have a conference rate.”

“So be it.” The baby burped, and Connor rose, handing him off to Faith. “Wish I could take you to lunch, baby”—he kissed the tip of Faith’s nose just as he had the little tyke’s—“but I’ve got a meeting at the country club.”

“That’s okay, honey. I came to have lunch with Daddy. I want to take advantage before I start day care in the fall.” Faith had been a kindergarten teacher, but she was opening her own day care facility once the school year started back up.

She turned to Josie. “You wanna go with us? Daddy would love to see you.”

Jarvis Castle loved Faith to death, but he wasn’t so big on the rest of the family, especially Josie’s own father. They were third cousins, and, well, let’s just say that Jarvis Castle didn’t give a fig for the Tybrook family tree. Not to mention the fact that he would probably grill her on why Chuck Eastman was sitting in her car at a little after seven in the morning. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

She backed toward the door as Connor headed for the coatrack to pull on his suit jacket. “I’m having lunch with Kyle Perry, by the way,” he said. Behind him, Faith reached up to straighten his collar.

Josie’s blood pressure spiked. “Did he say something was wrong with the job?”

“No.” Connor eyed her. “Is there?”

“No, no. Of course not.” Though she was fighting with the company they’d chosen for long-belt replacement. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“You working well with him?”

“Yeah, he’s great.” In and out of the sack. She willed a flush not to rise with that inane thought.

“Is that a generic ‘great’ or do you really think he knows his stuff?”

Why the hell should it matter to Connor as long
she
got the job in on time and on budget? He hadn’t figured out something was happening between them, had he? Connor was pretty astute, and he read people well. But honestly, she hadn’t shown a thing. “He’s very competent.”

“Good.” Then he gathered Faith beneath his arm, kissed the top of her head. “Walk me out, baby?”

Faith jiggled her thumb and pinkie in the universal “give-me-a-call” gesture. Josie tipped her chin in the affirmative. Maybe a call to Faith would give her an inkling of what was on Connor’s mind and why he’d be having lunch with Kyle.

Jeez. Connor had lunch with customers all the time. He wanted an update on the project, wanted to show his interest, yadda yadda. She was just being sensitive because she was diddling Kyle.

See, that was another of the reasons you shouldn’t mix business and pleasure. You started reading things into everything anyone said to you, as if you had “slut screwing client” written on your forehead.

Whatever. Josie was too far gone to give Kyle up now, no matter what Connor’s agenda was for today’s lunch.

 

 

KYLE drove through the country club gates, heading for the main parking lot in front of the clubhouse and restaurant. Sumptuous digs, the place was way above his normal fare.

Being the daughter of a Castle board member, it wasn’t above Josie’s, but then he didn’t get the impression she was into the country club scene. Kyle grinned. The woman could be down and dirty with the best of them, as she had been last night, tied to the bed and wailing her lungs out as she went over the edge.

A woman didn’t let loose like that for just any man. Kyle didn’t consider himself the world’s greatest lover, but what they’d shared last night was damn spectacular. Special. Above and beyond. The lovers he’d had since his divorce had been great. With Josie, though, the sensations had been more intense, and he hadn’t even fucked her yet. He had no easy answer for why that was so. Was it the power struggle? The need to subjugate? The games they played? Some things simply defied rational explanation. He wanted her; that’s all that mattered.

Connor Kingston rose politely as Kyle entered the dining room and the maitre d’ led him to the table. The CEO of Castle Heavy Mining had called on Monday and suggested lunch this week. It just so happened that Kyle had to be in Watsonville on Thursday. The country club was on the way.

They shook hands, and Kyle tucked his tie to his abdomen as he sat.

“A cocktail?” Connor asked.

“No. Meeting afterward. Thanks.”

The tablecloths were white, the cutlery silver, and the glass crystal. Patronage varied from middle-aged women in golf wear to men in business suits. Everything was so damn quiet, the voices barely above a hum, that he could hear the light clink of bone china.

“How’s the project coming?”

Kyle perused the menu. “Right on track.” He considered complimenting Josie, but wondered if it would come across sounding like favoritism. Then again, he gave credit where it was due. “Your program manager has everything under control. I’m surprised how quickly she picked up our manufacturing model.”

“Josie gets a bad rap for being family, but she’s damn good at what she does.” Connor buttered a slice of sourdough.

“Family or not, you’ll get no complaints from me. We’re on time, and as we did the tour, she had some astute suggestions.”

“Good. Her promotion to manager shouldn’t interfere with her performance on your project.” Connor brushed bread crumbs from his fingers. “She told you about the change, right?”

“Yes. I haven’t had a problem with that to date,” Kyle assured him.

“We at Castle are devastated by Ernie Masters’ illness.” It didn’t sound like a platitude, but heartfelt.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t know he was ill.” Kyle had met him only one time, but had deemed him a nice enough guy.

“Cancer.” Connor toyed with the stem of his water glass, his lips set in a grim line. Obviously Ernie Masters wasn’t coming back.

Kyle wondered how that made Josie feel. She hadn’t talked about it. Then he remembered the odd tone in her voice mail telling him about the promotion, and again when he congratulated her over the phone. It made sense now. She hadn’t liked the reasons she’d gotten the job. He’d be willing to bet—no, he
knew
—that she even felt guilty about it, too, as if she were getting ahead based on someone else’s misfortune. She tried to pretend she was a hard-ass, but she was hiding a soft core.

“Ernie and I both agreed Josie was the best choice to fill his slot,” Connor continued.

“I’m sure it’s the right decision.” In that, Kyle was totally truthful. He was hot for the woman, but he also valued her expertise.

The waiter arrived, took their orders, moved on.

“You didn’t invite me to lunch just to discuss the project.” A phone call would have sufficed. Kyle leaned back, folded his hands over his stomach. “Something else on your mind?” He mentally hitched himself up. He didn’t think this had anything to do with Josie, but his irrational gut was waiting for Connor to say that fucking the program manager wasn’t appropriate.

“I’d like to offer you a job.”

Kyle almost laughed. He was good at what he did, but he hadn’t expected this. Thinking too much about Josie, perhaps, and missing the subtle nuances. “What job did you have in mind?”

“VP of FI&T,” Connor supplied. Josie’s group. Furnish, install, and train. “With your manufacturing and mining background, it’s an excellent fit.”

Vice president. Damn. The timing was perfect, just when he’d decided himself that a move was necessary for his career growth. But he’d be Josie’s boss. Still, he asked for more details. “How much travel is involved?”

“We’ve got clients throughout the North American continent and South America. On average”—Connor tapped his fork on the tablecloth, giving himself a moment to calculate—“I’d say you could consider two to three weeks per quarter, unless a huge problem arises.”

It got better and better. Two to three weeks per quarter instead of per month. It was only due to the retrofit at Coyote Ridge and the Watsonville issues that he’d been in town for the last two weeks. With the recent acquisition of the new quarries up in Washington, he’d be away more than he was at home.

He wanted the better position, more responsibility, less travel. He was ready for it. He just didn’t want to be Josie’s boss.

There were other considerations, too. “You’re a family-run company. What kind of autonomy do you give your VPs?” He wasn’t about to be micromanaged.

As if there was a joke in there somewhere, Connor smiled. “I’ve got my own job. I won’t need to do yours.”

“Number of employees in the group?”

Connor rattled off departments, head count, budgets, duties, et cetera. Kyle had more employees reporting to him now, but they were spread out over the various mines and quarries in SMG’s list.

Then Connor got into salary, bonus programs, benefits. “We’re instituting employee incentive stock options, too, something that’s not just for family.”

Kyle liked everything he heard. When his team went out for proposals on the upgrade, he’d investigated each of the contenders. He’d liked what he learned about Castle, their management style, executive team, mission statement, company policies. He’d be an idiot not to consider the opportunity.

“What would be your expectations on transition time from SMG?” Kyle wasn’t going to walk out with no notice and leave SMG in a bind. He might not see any opportunity for advancement there, but neither would he screw them over.

“As SMG will remain our customer, I’d expect you to take adequate time to help them over any and all hurdles.”