Crossing the Line. Megan Hart
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clear when we took you on that this wasn’t going to be a nine-to-fiver.”
“For your information, Mr. Wolfe,” Caite said coolly, going back to setting out the food, “I was a little busy this afternoon, helping Elise.”
“And that’s an excuse?” The words spilled out of him, tasting irrational, and he knew it, but still a little high from his fierce negotiations with Brett, Jamison was having a little trouble coming back to the world of getting along with other people.
“You skipped lunch today, didn’t you.”
Jamison frowned harder. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“I had to take Elise to the hospital because she was having preeclampsia and possibly going into an early labor,” Caite said, voice hard, “which you’d have known if you paid any attention to what goes on in here aside from ragging on people for not living up to your kind of asinine expectations. But if you’d eaten lunch today, I bet you’d have at least asked me what was going on before you launched into a tirade about my lack of work ethic, so sit down and eat something before your blood pressure gets too high.”
He froze. “Elise? What? Is she all right? What the hell? Why didn’t someone—?”
“Sit. Down,” Caite commanded in a tone that sliced right through him. “Now.”
Jamison sat.
They stared at each other for a moment before she pushed a plate of stromboli toward him. “Eat.”
He dug in, tearing off a hunk of soft bread and gooey cheese and chewing rapidly before taking another bite. He was starving, and she was right. He was an asshole when he was hungry. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care about his partner.
“She’s fine,” Caite said before he could ask her anything else. She picked daintily at her own stromboli, cutting it neatly with her fork and knife and letting it cool before taking a bite. “They put her on some meds and are monitoring her overnight. Steph’s with her. But they’re not sure when she’ll be back to work. Definitely not tomorrow, anyway.”
“Tomorrow’s the big meeting with that bunch of yahoos from that reality show. The one about the house.” Jamison reached for a beer and passed her one. He cracked the top and took a gulp, relishing the crisp flavor of the ale. “Elise was point person on that one. She knows how I feel about working with those types.”
“Those types,” Caite said, “are willing to pay a lot of money for our services.”
Jamison paused, stromboli halfway to his mouth. He set it down. “Do I detect a note of disapproval, Ms. Fox?”
“Just truth.” Caite gave him another one of those assessing looks. “They’ll bring Wolfe and Baron a lot of attention, too. It’s why Elise took them on.”
“And she was supposed to deal with them. I’m the guy who dots the I’s and crosses the T’s. She’s the one who deals with the clients.” After the words came out, he realized he sounded unsympathetic and kind of like a dick.
Caite cracked the top off a beer for herself and tipped it toward him. “She was worried about how you’d handle it, to be honest.”
“Dammit.” That didn’t sit well with him, not at all. “But she’s going to be okay, right?”
It must’ve been the right thing to say, because instead of frowning, Caite gave him another slow grin. And good goddamn, that girl could smile. It lit her entire face, and Jamison couldn’t understand how he’d never noticed it until just now. Maybe because this was the first time since the initial interview that he’d actually spent more than a couple minutes talking to her. It had been Elise’s idea to hire her, and Jamison hadn’t paid much attention beyond signing the extra paycheck.
“She’ll be okay.” Caite gave a firm nod, then looked hesitant for the first time tonight. “I have to believe that, anyway. Power of positive thinking.”
That didn’t make him feel better. “Should I call her?”
“Not anymore tonight. Steph was going to stay with her and promised she’d call with an update in the morning. She’ll be okay,” Caite repeated, sounding more convinced this time. “Finish your dinner, Jamison.”
He was already feeling better after having consumed just half the piece she’d given him, and he settled back in his chair with the beer. “Can we reschedule?”
“We don’t have to. I’ll take it on.”
He sipped the beer for a moment, thinking about the new clients. He’d argued with Elise about taking them on, money or no, because if there was one thing Jamison didn’t want Wolfe and Baron turning into, it was a babysitting service for douche bags. She’d fought him on it for a few reasons, money one of them. Never enough money, she’d told him, not with a baby on the way and the economy the way it was. The other reason was even simpler—the trio of reality TV stars might be famous only for their stupidity, recklessness and lack of couth, but they were super fucking famous. The biggest-name clients Wolfe and Baron had scored to date.
“You don’t have the experience,” he told Caite flatly. “I’m going to have to head this one.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes, not even trying to hide it. Jamison blinked, surprised by both her reaction...and his lack of it. He’d fired people for less than that. A whole bunch of them as a matter of face, which was why he and Elise and Bobby were the only ones working in this place, at least until she’d insisted on hiring Caite. But with a full belly and the beer, his favorite, mellowing him a little, all he did was grunt.
“You’re going to give yourself an ulcer,” Caite said.
Jamison took another long pull of beer. “You have a better idea?”
“I told you my better idea.”
“You’ve been here, what, six months?”
“Nearly eight,” Caite said with another shake of her head that left him feeling uncomfortably ashamed.
“And you think you have what it takes?”
“I’ve been handling clients on my own for the past four months,” Caite said quietly. “Brought some in on my own, too.”
Which he ought to have known. Dammit. He’d been so caught up in his own client list that he’d been letting Elise deal with the “new hire,” who, as it turned out, wasn’t all that new any longer. “I thought we took you on as an assistant. Filing. Copying.”
“Fetching coffee?” Caite gave him another one of those stunning grins. “Relax. I’ve been doing all that, too. But technically, you took me on as a junior account manager. Not an assistant.”
“Elise assigned you other work, huh?” Jamison finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the table. Caite nodded. “She’s a little nicer than I am.”
“More than a little,” came the answer.
Again, from anyone else, the smart-ass reaction would’ve probably sent him into a fury, but something about this girl... This woman, he corrected himself. Because Caite was young but not girlish. Not at all. Something about this woman eased him away from anger. Like taking in a breath of cool air when you’d spent too long in a sauna.
“She must think highly of you,” Jamison said.
“I think she’s been pleased with my work. You’d be pleased, too, if you’d paid attention to it.” Caite sipped her beer and gave him a long look over the top of it. “You should pay better attention, Jamison.”
Something slithered through him then, at that tone. Those words. The calmly assessing look in her blue, blue eyes. Her confidence...and that smile.
“Tell you what,” he said, leaning closer. “If you can prove you can handle it, I’ll let you work on this project.”
“Oh,