It Takes a Rebel (25 page)

had become to him and to the business in such a short time. He liked her no-nonsense attitude and her spunk, and he wanted to

keep her around.

"Tuesday."

She turned back. "Yes?"

He reached into his pocket and removed a spare door key from his keyring, then tossed it to her. "You're hired."

She caught the key neatly, and a grin spread over her face. "Thank you, sir. I'll see you first thing in the morning." She fairly

danced through the swinging doors and a few seconds later he heard the bell on the front door jangle as she left.

Jack turned back to his computer, whistling under his breath, realizing that by hiring an office manager, he'd made a

commitment to grow their business. The idea of being spokesman for Tremont's was sinking in—the money would be good, and

would allow him to put extra money into the business, to relieve some of the pressure for Derek. And as much as he hated to

admit it, being the department store spokesman would still give him a thread of a connection with Alex.

When the bell on the door jangled again, Jack called, "Did you forget something?"

"Yeah," came Derek's voice. "I think I forgot our office address because I don't recognize this place."

Surprised, Jack jumped to his feet and hurried to the front, sporting a wide grin.

Looking tanned and happy, Derek and his new wife Janine stood in the front office, staring at the changes.

"You're home early," Jack said, pumping his brother's hand and lifting the blond Janine off her feet for a bear hug.

"Janine had to get back to see a doctor," Derek said, sliding an arm around her waist.

"Are you sick?" Jack asked, immediately concerned for his new sister.

"No." She beamed. "I'm pregnant!"

Elated, Jack clapped his brother on the back. "That didn't take long."

"Well," Derek said, a little sheepish, "we did have a long honeymoon."

"And a tiny head start," Janine said, holding up her thumb and forefinger.

"Shh," Derek chastised, but grinned anyway.

"Mother will have quite a surprise when she gets back," Jack said.

His brother nodded, then gestured to the office. "Speaking of surprises…"

"Oh, yeah," Jack said, "come on back and I'll show you around. The IRS auditor left this morning—we're in good shape—

and Tuesday will be back first thing in the morning."

"Tuesday—you mean that woman who wandered in off the street?"

Jack dismissed his concern with a wave. "You'll love her."

Derek was impressed with the new furniture and equipment, but his first concern, of course, was cost.

"Already paid for," Jack assured him. "Compliments of Keeneland."

His brother laughed, shaking his head. When Janine excused herself to visit the restroom—Derek said she'd been doing a lot

of that lately—his brother asked about the Tremont's account.

"The focus group results for the commercials came back today—we're in. Al Tremont wants us to meet next week to

negotiate a long-term contract."

"That's great, Jack! Do you have some stills?"

Jack hesitated, then fished out the thick folder of photographs from the Tremont shoot and handed it to his brother.

Derek frowned. "These are all of you!"

"Sit down," Jack said, gesturing to a chair. He caught his brother up on the details of the spokesman-ad account tie-in as

quickly as possible, leaving out the sordid details of his association with Alex.

Her brother squinted and scratched his head. "You're modeling now?"

Jack sighed. "It's not modeling."

"Well, whatever, it must have impressed the daughter."

Jack averted his gaze and nodded.

"What?" Derek asked.

"What do you mean, what?"

"That look."

"What look?"

"That I-got-a-woman-problem look."

Jack crossed his hands behind his head. "Not me, man."

Derek leaned forward in his chair and stared at Jack until he squirmed and cracked his knuckles in one sweeping motion.

"You did it, didn't you?"

Jack frowned. "Did what?"

"Slept with her."

He stood and walked around to lean on the front of his desk, then sighed. "Okay, yeah."

His brother winced. "Ah, man! Tell me you didn't do it to get the business."

"Of course not!"

"So how will this affect your ability to work on the account? Does her father know?"

"He seems to know—"

"Christ, she
told
him?"

"I don't know, maybe she told her boyfriend, and he told her father."

Derek quirked an eyebrow. "Are the two men close?"

Jack cleared his throat. "Her boyfriend is the CFO."

"Oh, now
there's
a smooth move." Derek threw up his hands. "What were you thinking?"

Jack scowled. "That I could have this extremely pleasant conversation when you found out."

Derek shrugged. "Oh, well, if Tremont knows and he offered you the account anyway—"

"I won't be working directly with the daughter anymore." He picked up the minibasketball and tossed it toward the hoop. It

bounced off the rim and rolled into a corner.

"And, um, how do you feel about that?"

Jack retrieved the ball and threw it up again. "When did you become a shrink?" The ball glanced off the rim again and

bounced back to Derek.

"Since you became a case," his brother said, sending the ball swishing through the net. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you

were acting as if you were hung up on this woman."

"And how am I acting?"

Derek crossed his arms and looked around the back office, taking in the new decor and the new computer equipment, the

stack of completed paperwork on Jack's desk, and Jack's clothing—part of his Tremont's wardrobe. "Grown up."

"Oh, very funny."

"Enough, Jack," Derek said, his voice low and serious. "Tell me about this woman."

Jack dragged his hand down his face, willing to confess to murder if it would take away the nagging tightness in his chest.

"Alex is … different."

"Oh, hell."

"Do you want to hear this or not?"

"Sorry, go ahead."

He sighed, struggling to put into words the kinds of abstract things that had been floating through his mind like confetti. "Alex

is … smart. And straight-laced. And she wears her hair in this tight little bun, except when she's on the bike with me…" He

groaned, realizing he sounded like a bad lyricist.

Derek laughed. "I don't believe it. My little brother has fallen in love."

Jack jerked his head up. "Love? Whoa, I didn't say anything about love."

"Who's in love?" Janine asked, rejoining them.

Derek jerked his thumb toward Jack.

"Wait a minute!"

"Who is she?"

"His boss."

"That's not true!"

Janine grinned. "Is she in love with you, Jack?"

He frowned, objecting to the direction the conversation had taken. "I kind of doubt it, seeing how she's engaged to another

man."

She slipped her arm around Derek's waist and gave him a squeeze. "Speaking from experience, sometimes a person doesn't

realize they're settling until they meet the person they're really meant to love."

Out of respect, Jack didn't roll his eyes.

His brother winked. "You'd better let her know how you feel, Jack."

He scoffed. "Yeah, right."

"I know it sounds scary, but believe me, man, it's the not telling that'll eat you up." He smiled down at his wife and patted her

stomach. "Ready to go home, sweetheart?"

She nodded, and they left, arm and arm, heads together, footsteps in synch. Jack watched, marveling at the change in his

brother. He always thought his brother would settle down with a demure mouse, not a blond siren. But bubbly Janine had really

brought out Derek's lighter side. In fact, they were complete opposites, just like—

On the other hand, lots of people were opposites, and it didn't mean they were in
love
.

Massaging the tightness just below his breastbone, Jack retrieved the basketball and spun it on the tip of his finger as his

brother's and sister-in-law's words reverberated in his head.
You'd better let her know how you feel … it's the not telling

that'll eat you up.

But did he love her?

Jack eyed the basketball hoop and pursed his mouth.
L-O-V-E
. Four letters, four baskets. If he made them all, he might call,

just to feel her up—er, out. And just to make it fair, he would close one eye and use his left hand.

He tossed the
L
ball.

Swish.

Dammit.

He tossed the
O
ball.

Swish.

Dammit.

He tossed the
V
ball.

Swish.

Dammit.

He tossed the
E
ball.

It rolled around the rim once, twice, three times … then popped out.

"Yeeesssss!" he shouted, pumping the air with his fist. He dropped back into his chair and waited for the relief to wash over

him. Instead, his chest resumed its dull ache. He stared at the phone, then the clock. Four-thirty on Thursday afternoon. No

doubt she was still at the office, possibly making plans to go out with Reddinger.

He could always call her and say it had been nice working with her, he reasoned, and picked up the phone.

But then she'd know that he knew about her losing the vice presidency. He put down the phone.

Then he brightened—calling to thank her for helping with the commercials would be simple and appropriate. He dialed her

office number and drummed his fingers on his desk while the phone rang.

"Tess Hanover."

"This is Jack Stillman—"

"Oh, hellooooo, Mr. Stillman."

"Um, hello. I was trying to reach Alex. Is she available?"

"No," she said, her tone a little odd.

He frowned. "Has she left for the day?"

"You could say that."

Jack sighed. "Tess, did she or didn't she?"

"Actually," the woman said, her voice lowered to a conspiratorial level, "I shouldn't be telling you this, but Ms. Tremont

resigned."

"What?"

"She and Mr. Reddinger both resigned," she whispered. "I heard that he got a great job offer in Cincinnati."

And Alex was going with him. Jack's heart sank. "Ms. Tremont and her father had an argument."

He hated to snoop, but the woman seemed anxious to tell him something. "What about?"

"Mr. Tremont barged into her office, and I overheard him blame her for nearly losing you as a spokesman."

Jack swallowed hard. "What did he say?"

"That she'd gone back on her promise to try to work with you, and the reason you had changed your mind was because she

was so difficult to get along with."

He closed his eyes. "That's not true."

"He sounded angry. Ms. Tremont offered to step aside and let someone else work with you, but he told her the new vice

president would be taking over those responsibilities." Relishing every detail, Tess's voice rolled with inflection. "Then a

little while later, Mr. Reddinger arrived and went into Ms. Tremont's office. They came out together and asked me to make

official copies of their resignation letters."

He felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. "Is Al still there?"

"Yes."

"Patch me through to him, please." Feeling as if Alex were slipping through his fingers, he stood and paced until Al

Tremont's voice came on the line.

"Jack, what's up?"

He wasted no time on formalities. "What's this about you telling Alex I couldn't work with her because she was too difficult

to get along with?"

"Well, that's what you said, Jack."

"No, I said I couldn't work with Alex, but I didn't tell you why. We both jumped to conclusions about what the other person

meant."

"I'm confused, son. Why can't you work with Alex?"

Sweat broke out on his upper lip, and the pain in his chest escalated to the point of forcing him to sit down.

"Jack?"

"I love her." He leaned his head back, waiting for the fallout.

"What?" Al sounded incredulous.

"I love your daughter."

The man made a few blustery sounds. "Does Alex know?"

"Not unless she's a mind reader."

"Well, son, you'd better get a move on."

"I understand she and Reddinger both resigned."

Al made a rueful sound. "I can replace Heath, but not Alex. I can't believe she's leaving for
him
."

"Maybe she's leaving because she feels unappreciated at Tremont's," Jack ventured.

"Why, that's absurd."

"Is it? I know she was hoping for that vice presidency."

"Jack, just between you and me, I was planning to step down in the next couple of months, and recommend that Alex take

over as president.
That's
why she didn't get the vice presidency."

Shocked, Jack asked, "Why didn't you tell her?"

"When she told me she was leaving with Reddinger, I didn't want to muddy the waters. You see, son, I'm more concerned that

Alex be with the right man than that she take over the family business." Al laughed with no humor. "I guess neither one of us has

been as forthcoming with Alex as we should have been. But I'll make you a deal. If you can talk her into staying in Lexington,

I'll offer her the presidency." Al made a regretful noise. "Jack … if you can keep my daughter from leaving me, I would be in

your debt."

Jack swallowed. "Maybe you should offer her the presidency first, just to sweeten the deal."

"Sorry, son, I don't want to get in the way here. You're on your own."