Harlequin Superromance February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: His Forever Girl\Moonlight in Paris\Wife by Design (6 page)

“No, he went over the departments, but never said he had a daughter who headed up operations. You know I didn't sneak in here trying to steal anything from you. You can be pissed, but you have to be fair.”

Jabbing a finger at him, Tess said, “I don't have to be anything. Don't tell me what to do.”

Graham slid his hands into his pockets, making his shoulders beneath the poplin dress shirt look amazingly broad. Yeah, she hurt, but she hadn't failed to notice his masculine charms, which pissed her off all over again. “Fine.”

For a few seconds they stood, defensive and wary.

Tess sighed. “What do you expect me to say?”

“Nothing. I don't know. It's a hard situation, but right now I don't feel I can take the job.” He looked almost like a dog trying to nose the bone her way after he'd already gnawed off the fattest parts.

“Oh, please. Who passes up a job like this?” she said, trying not to hiss at him.

God, please tell me he's not that stupid. Please tell me this isn't some capricious acceptance of a job.
She couldn't handle it if he treated it like it was no big deal.

Graham shrugged. “Everything's pretty much ruined. I can't be your father's pawn in a game I don't even understand.”

“Pawn?”

“Well, something's up. Otherwise you would have been in on this from the beginning, right? I don't know why your father has done what he's done, but I'm wading in uncharted waters without a compass.”

Tess didn't want to admit he was partly right, didn't want to forget the asshole status she'd assigned him. None of his admissions fixed anything in the world falling apart around her.

“I'm not going to lie. I need this job—it's the best thing that's ever happened to me—but I never slinked in. I never took anything from you. I'm not saying I'm blameless or you shouldn't be angry, but don't paint me as what I'm not. I was a jerk to you, but I did nothing wrong in regard to this job.”

“A jerk I can deal with. This? Not so much,” she said, turning her head toward the far bank of Algiers Point. She didn't want him to see the cracks in her. Didn't want him to know how much his callous disregard almost a month ago had dinged her pride, had made her wonder why she wasn't good enough for a guy to want as more than just a good time.

Why buy the cow
... Her mother's voice echoed inside her head.

Maybe that was Tess's problem—she wanted to be in love, craved the touch of a man who would love her back, so much she plunged in without checking the depth.

In Graham's case the water had been about six inches deep.

Splat.

Graham moved closer, his steps sounding sympathetic, even though Tess knew that was impossible. “Don't,” she said, flinging out a hand.

“What?”

“Don't come near me.”

He stopped, resting his hands on his hips. “Look, it will be easier for everyone if I dissolve the contract and move on. It's the least I can do in this situation.”

Tess snorted. “The least you can do? Whatever. Spare me your sympathy.”

“It's not sympathy. I'm trying to do the right thing.”

“Well, don't. I'm not working here. My father obviously doesn't value me enough to think I can handle our family business. I won't waste your time with how that makes me feel. He's not giving the job to me so I could give a rat's ass who takes it.”

Graham searched her face with shuttered eyes of arctic blue. “I can break the contract.”

“No, you can't. My father gets what he wants, and he's never played well when it comes to business. If you quit, he'll sue you, wrap you up in red tape and hire someone else.”

Graham swallowed again. Hard. “Surely once I tell him our relationship—”

“Why? We don't have a relationship. It was sex. Meaningless sex. Let's not make it what it isn't. Besides, why would he care? He's a misogynist Italian who could have run the mafia but decided he'd rather screw people legally. Don't let his Hush Puppies shoes fool you. Frank Ullo's a shark.”

Graham seemed to think about this. “I still don't feel right though. Doesn't feel good to me.”

So now he feels bad? He should have felt bad two weeks ago when she put her heart on the line and called him, when she told him she'd never felt this way about anyone and asked him to call her. That's when he should have been honorable and at least given her the decency of a call.

But she didn't say that. Instead she shrugged. “Too bad. You're the new boss. Might as well start thinking about who you are and how you want to be perceived by everyone here. He's not going to let you go easily. He doesn't care about ‘feelings.'”

Graham shook his head and she could feel his frustration. Welcome to the club, buddy.

“How can I take your job?”

“It wasn't my job. My dad made his point—this is
his
company. Not mine. I suppose your first order of business will be to hire my replacement.” Tess stared toward the door. Like a wave heading her way, she could feel the emotion inside her building. She didn't want to stay here any longer with a man who had rejected her as a woman. The man who had taken what she thought to be hers.... A man she still felt an ungodly attraction to even as her world unwound. Tess could pull off the ice-princess routine for only so long.... She was coming undone, and she'd be damned if she did it in front of anyone. Much less him. “See ya around.”

She tried to slide quickly by him, but he reached out. “Wait, Tess.”

“Please don't touch me,” she begged, her voice almost at a whisper. She really couldn't stand the tenderness in his touch. He felt sorry for her. That was all. And something about that hurt more than if he'd been the ruthless son of a bitch she'd wanted to paint him as.

“What can I do to make this right?” he asked, his voice plaintive and so freaking sincere.

“You can't. Only I can make this right by moving on and proving I can be more than daddy's little girl. The best you can do is to take care of this company. There are a lot of good people here and they deserve better than a half-assed job by their new boss.”

She wrenched her arm from his grasp and climbed the steps that would lead her to a place she loved...a place where she no longer belonged.

Quitting had been her choice and it had been one she had to make. Her assumptions had gotten her nothing but wounded pride, but she knew she wasn't part of this business merely because her name was Ullo. She was good at her job. She'd brought in new accounts and the floats she oversaw were detailed and cost-effective. She hadn't done well because her father owned the company...she'd done well because she'd pushed herself to live up to his name.

And now she would take her experience and foresight to a new company. She would show the world—and her father—just how good she was.

“Tess?” Graham's voice carried on the river breeze.

He stood etched hard against the muddy waters and soft emerging spring green of the brush along the riverbank.

“I'm sorry.”

Tess lifted her chin. “At least someone is.”

CHAPTER SIX

G
RAHAM
TWISTED
THE
KEY
in the door of the apartment he'd rented two weeks ago and pushed inside.

What a crappy day.

The dim room was hardly welcoming with an old leather couch that had a rip in the arm, a big-screen TV perched on a less than sturdy table and a single flowered armchair donated by his brother's girlfriend. The place looked pathetic, but it would have to do until he could afford some new stuff. Currently, he had bills due and wanted to take Emily camping at the beginning of summer.

The contract he'd signed had given him a nice salary, a large enough expense account and a car. Soon, he'd be back to where he once was, replenishing his meager savings and funding the retirement fund he'd depleted. The severance package NASA had given him had helped buffer the loss he'd taken on the sale of his condo. Damn housing market had tanked and he'd been upside down on the gated executive condo he'd bought five years ago. He'd been relatively smart with his money, thank God, but it still hadn't been enough to weather all the notes and student loans he'd collected over the years. Growing up poor made a man want things and Graham had been no exception—something he regretted when he'd looked at where he'd spent his money.

But this was to be his new start. Landing the Ullo job had been like gravy on the grandest of Thanksgiving dinners. Running a successful multi-million-dollar Mardi Gras company would take him back to his roots, allow him to use his skill set in a way NASA never had. While the mechanical engineer in him loved the technical aspects of cutting-edge innovation, the artist in him had mourned the loss of pushing past the boundaries creatively.

But now his success tasted like last night's dinner coming back up.

Tess.

When she'd walked into Frank's office, a myriad of emotions had galloped across him, starting with delight and ending in bitter regret.

She was right. He was a bastard.

He reached for the remote, tuned the TV to
Sports Center
merely so he could hear another human voice and then he went to the kitchen to find last night's leftover takeout.

His phone jittered on the bar.

Emily.

His heart brightened.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said.

“Daddy!” she cried, a smile in her voice.

“What are you doing?”

“I had homework today,” she said excitedly.

“Wow, you're already doing homework in second grade?”

“Dad,” she said, using a teenage voice. “Of course. Most kids don't like homework, but I do.”

“That's because you're a smarty pants.”

She giggled, and he tucked that laughter into his soul. He'd screwed up a lot of things in life, but Emily had been the one perfect example of how an emotionally infantile man could grow into something better than his own father. Graham had made being a good father a vow.... Another reason he'd been adamant about returning to New Orleans. “I can't wait to come to your house. There's a pool there, right?”

“Yep, and a tennis court.”

“I don't know how to play tennis,” she said, her voice a little breathless. He could hear the rattle of cabinets in the background.

“Maybe you can take lessons? That would be fun, right?”

“Maybe,” she said, chewing something. “I'm not good at sports stuff.”

“You don't have to be good. It will be fun just to be out in the sun, moving around.” Graham had noticed Emily had started putting on some unhealthy weight. Monique had laughed it off, talking about Christmas cookies and king cake, but Graham suspected Emily was left too often to her own devices after school, snacking and sitting in front of the TV glued to the Disney channel. Being here would give him a better handle on her health...a better handle on building a stronger relationship with his daughter. “Where's your mom?”

“She's with Josh. They're in a meeting or something. I'm in her office. I did my homework and now I'm eating a snack and watching
Saved by the Bell.
”

Saved by the Bell?

“It's an old show. Mom said she watched it when she was little. Isn't that funny?”

“Yeah, princess, it is. Look, I'm going to pick you up on Thursday, okay?”

“Cool,” she said, her attention waning, most likely caught by the campy sitcom. He thought he heard the sound of Screech's voice.

“Tell your mom to call me later, okay?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Emily? What did I just say?”

“Uh—” She paused. “I don't remember.”

“Tell your mother to call me.”

“Oh, right. Bye, Daddy,” Emily said, still distracted, but Graham would take it. He loved every minute of hearing her breathless little girl voice. Something about her innocence buffered the guilt floating inside him...made his day not so crappy if only for a few minutes.

God, he wanted to do better by her.

And he would.

“Bye, pumpkin,” he said before pressing the end button. Tossing the phone on the counter, he sighed and wiped a hand over his face. He had to get his shit together. That's what a good father did.

He had to be there physically for Emily, picking her up from after school care, spending weekends proving he wasn't the same as his old man. He wouldn't chase sparkly things or shirk his duty to his child. Emily was the reason Graham couldn't bow out of Ullo.

It had been so long since he'd felt confident about who he was. He'd gotten a taste of it that night exactly a month ago when he'd met Tess. That night, he'd been the man he'd once been—the man who had not only dreamed but made things happen. The man who hadn't failed with Monique, who had never been laid off, who had never paid a bill late, who had never taken medicine to pull himself out of depression. That magical night had given him a piece of himself back, cracking open the door to a new tomorrow.

But then he'd slammed it closed out of fear. Out of embarrassment of who he'd become. Yeah, it was a stupid reason to toss a chance for happiness with Tess away, but something inside him had balked about coming to her with so little to offer.

Panic had grabbed him by the throat. No matter how well he'd presented himself in his pressed suit and expensive shoes, buying drinks like he had a bankroll in his pocket, he'd known he'd been a facade of the man he'd once been.

All he could think about was his father with frayed cuffs and a shitty-ass excuse for why he couldn't afford to pay school fees. He'd looked in his bathroom mirror and seen the man who'd failed so often, who'd cared so little he'd rather take his life than get a job beneath him and show his sons how real success worked. The fear of turning into that man ate at him and convinced him to wait to call Tess until he was in a better place.

“Shit,” he said to no one...because no one was there. Story of his life. “Ah, you're pathetic. You effed up with Tess. Game over.”

His words echoed in the apartment and as he looked at the Chinese takeout box in his hand, he felt anger wash over him. So he lived in shitty circumstances now, and he'd blown any chance he had with a woman who had made him feel the way he hadn't felt in years—whole.

But it was a new day. A new beginning. He had a job, a challenge and a daughter who needed him. No time for feeling sorry for himself.

He was Graham Naquin—over-educated, nearer to forty than thirty and possessing all his teeth.

He was in it to win it.

The world was his oyster.

He would kick ass and take names.

Because he refused to be the man who'd raised him. He might have been down, but he wasn't out.

Graham Naquin was a fighter.

* * *

T
ESS
SIPPED
THE
lukewarm café au lait and studied Gigi who glowered like a jail warden.

“Draw unemployment,” she said, her red eyebrows drawn together.

“No. I don't want unemployment. I'm getting another job.” Tess stared at her computer, trying to figure how best to position the experience she had. It was damn hard writing a resume with a single company as your only employer.

“Where?” Gigi pushed her tight red curls off her face and sucked on the straw of her iced tea. Gigi hated coffee but loved Cuppa Joe's with its bright red couches and black lacquered tables. Soft '80s rock flowed through the speakers and modern art displayed at irregular angles decked the walls. It had a cool, comfy vibe, so they met here as regularly for Wi-Fi and coffee as they did at Two-Legged Pete's for drinks with more kick.

“Not sure. I love design work and haven't been able to do as much of it for the past few years because I've been working with clients. Maybe I'll freelance.”

Gigi snapped her fingers. “Didn't your father say this dude started a Mardi Gras float company way back when?”

“No, Graham told me the company he interviewed for was something he'd done before.... Wait, uh, maybe he did say he started a company, but I haven't a clue which one. There are a lot of smaller ones.”

“Give me that,” Gigi said, tugging Tess's laptop toward her. “Let's see what we can find on him.”

Tess scooted her chair closer, wondering why she hadn't already done that. She often used social media to scan the guys she dated, but Graham had said he wasn't on Facebook.

Gigi typed away like a flame-tipped woodpecker on crack as Tess sipped her coffee and looked around at the world still turning even though hers had crashed that afternoon. How could people still laugh, still make jokes, still flirt across the room? Didn't her sadness permeate their happy, shiny faces?

“Bingo!” Gigi crowed, sitting back with a smile. “You're never going to believe this one.”

Tess tipped the computer so she could see the screen. “Holy crap. Upstart?”

“Yeah, that's crazy, huh?”

Tess reeled with the news. Upstart, run by the effervescent Monique Dryden, had grown to become Frank Ullo's staunchest competition...and Graham Naquin had been one of the founders?

Gigi started reading. “Monique Dryden started Upstart Floatmakers in 2003 with her partners Graham Naquin and Josh Laborde when the three post-grad students, on a whim, created a sci-fi float for the Krewe of Vader, a satirical sci-fi fantasy krewe started by Jimmie Ray Dietzel. The three friends' collaboration led to a passionate venture—” Gigi wiggled her eyebrows “—which united a film student, an engineer and an art history graduate in like purpose. Building their floats using high-tech materials, cutting-edge light displays and fuel-efficient design has vaulted the ‘Little Engine That Could' into the big leagues in float design.”

Gigi stopped reading out loud and skimmed the article, her lips moving as fast as her blue eyes. “Wow, he sold his interest in the company and moved to Houston to work for NASA.”

Tess looked away. She didn't want to know any more. Something about Graham having a relationship with Monique Dryden made the coffee curdle in her stomach. She'd met Monique many times at fundraisers and the occasional Mardi Gras ball and had found the vivacious brunette to be smart and gorgeous. She'd always made Tess feel a giantess next to her dark, diminutive beauty.

“All this is pretty interesting...almost coincidental,” Gigi said. “You sure he didn't know who you were? This smells funny.”

“He didn't. I never gave him my last name, and obviously my father didn't care to mention his daughter Tess frequents Two-Legged Pete's and takes home random hot guys. Graham didn't have any more of a clue than I did. I'm certain about that. Besides, how would it have benefited him? My dad didn't tell me what was going on.”

Gigi stared out the window at the world moving by in the late afternoon light. “Know what you should do?”

“I'm scared to ask,” Tess joked, trying to forget she was devastated, trying to find what little humor she had left after cleaning out her desk and passing her key to Billie.

“You should talk to Monique Dryden about a job. Bet she would love to sink her teeth into you.” Gigi gave a sharky lawyer grin.

Tess made a face. “That would be...I don't know...too weird. Plus, it's doubtful she has an opening.”

“Don't know until you ask, do you? And how awesome would that be? You'd totally teach your dad and Mr. Fancy Pants Naquin a lesson.”

“But it's—” Tess rooted around for the right word “—treason. I'll stick with trying freelance design or something. I can't work at a rival company.”

“Why not? It's a job. Your father screwed you, and Graham Naquin literally screwed you. Don't play the victim. Turn the tables on them.”

Gigi didn't understand family the way Tess did. Her best friend's parents had split in a bitter, contested divorce rendering their only daughter a bone to be fought over. Finally after winning joint custody, Gigi's father moved to California and pretty much forgot about the daughter “he loved beyond himself.” The whole messy affair had left Gigi cynical.

“I'm not you, Gigi. Ullo is part of my family and I can't hurt my family.”

Gigi just stared at her for a good ten seconds. Censure, and maybe disappointment that Tess wasn't jumping to get revenge on her father and Graham, clearly visible on her face.

Seriously, how could Tess work for the company that had given Frank Ullo the most competition over the past two years? Sounded too in-your-face for Tess's taste.

Then again, Gigi wasn't totally off base. Working for Upstart would be a great way to prove to her father he'd made a colossal mistake, and Tess could prove to herself she could make it in this business without her father's name. Would it really be so evil?

The hurt, bitter part of her said
no.
And the tied-to-her-family, devoted part of her screamed
yes.