Misbehaving with the Millionaire: The Millionaire's Misbehaving Mistress. Kimberly Lang
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getting the hang of this after all. With the addition of Gwen Sawyer to the team, his life could start working itself back to normal.
And, just to be sure, he’d be home for Gwen’s arrival tonight.
CHAPTER TWO
“YOU are kidding me, right? The Will Harrison hired you? I didn’t even know he had a sister.”
“That’s because you don’t read the society section closely enough. And don’t sound so surprised. As I’ve been reminded more than once recently, social training is what I do for a living.” Gwen balanced the phone on her shoulder as she loaded her laptop into its case.
Sarah went into Sister Support Mode. “Temporarily, Gwennie, temporarily. Even if the kid eats with her feet, you’ll turn her into Jackie O in no time. Then, big brother will have to listen to what you can do for his company.”
“I can hope.” Gwen consulted her list. Laptop. Dinner kit. Tea kit. Etiquette books for her new client. Her suitcase. Check, check, check and check.
The increase in background noise meant her sister was no longer alone. Hastily she added, “Listen, you can’t tell anyone about this. ‘My discretion is essential,’ remember?”
“Ich verstehe.” Sarah switched to German, a tactic they’d used for years when they didn’t want others to understand their conversation. “Is he as handsome as his pictures?”
Better than his pictures. Yummy, actually. “Oh, grow up, Sarah.”
“He’s Dallas’s Most Eligible Bachelor, you know.”
“One of them, at least,” she hedged.
“Seriously, what’s he like?”
“Busy. A bit brusque. In need of one of my refresher classes.” Gwen grabbed her address book and current client files and added them to the growing pile. Will Harrison might be the biggest client she’d signed on, but she still had to take care of the others.
“Well, maybe your lessons with his sister will rub off on him.”
Gwen responded with an unladylike, but noncommittal “humph” as she dragged her suitcase down the hallway. “One more thing. Can you look after Letitia for a while?”
“Sure, Gwennie. Why?”
“This is where your discretion comes in. I’m going to be living with the Harrisons for the next couple of weeks.” Gwen held the phone away from her ear in expectation of her sister’s reaction.
“You’re what?” Even with the phone several inches away, she clearly heard every one of the dozen rapid-fire questions delivered at the top of her sister’s voice.
“Calm down. Good Lord, you sound exactly like Mother when you do that.”
“That’s uncalled for.”
“Well, if the shoe fits…”
“You do understand that if that columnist from Dallas Lifestyles gets wind of this, she’ll have a field day with you.”
“There’s nothing nefarious going on. I’m moving into the guest bedroom so I’ll have total access to Evie. If my over-developed sense of propriety can handle it, so can yours.” She consulted her list one last time. Surely she had everything she needed. It wasn’t like she was going to Siberia or anything. “Since when do you care what people think anyway?”
Sarah sighed. “That’s my point. I don’t, but you need to. Let me remind you that the majority of your clientele is hugely conservative. Proper debutante trainers don’t live with men they aren’t related to.”
“I know, I know. This is why you need to keep your mouth shut. Should anyone find out—”
“And you know they will, Gwennie. Will Harrison is one of that Hulme woman’s favorite subjects for her column. Do you honestly think you can move in to his house and no one will notice?”
It was Gwen’s turn to sigh. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. This is a business arrangement, nothing more. No one would question it if he’d hired a live-in housekeeper. This isn’t any different.”
“I’d keep practicing that statement, if I were you. I think you’re going to need it.”
“There’s no need to sound so dire. It’s not like there’s paparazzi staking out his building or anything. If I just lie low and not call attention to myself, this should stay under the radar.”
“Good luck with that.” Gwen could almost hear Sarah’s eyes rolling with the sarcasm.
“Jeez, thanks for the vote of support.”
“You have my support—you know that. I also know how hard you’ve worked to build something here, and I’d hate for you to lose ground again.”
“I know. But I just get the feeling this is the right thing to do. That it’s my chance. I’ve got to try. If not, I’m afraid I’m going to spend another five years playing with place settings.”
“Then I’ll keep my fingers and toes crossed for you.”
“Thank you. Now can you come get Letitia and keep her until I’m finished with Evie?”
“Of course.”
“And speaking of Evie, can I bring her in to see you this week? Seems she’s going to need a wardrobe.”
She heard the clicks from the keyboard that meant Sarah was checking her schedule. “I’m free Friday afternoon,” she finally said. “Will that work? Monday morning would be okay, too. Just let me know.”
“Thanks. I’m already running late so I really have to go. I’ll have my cell if you need me. And remember, discretion.”
“Genau.” Sarah switched back to English. “Call me tomorrow. I want to hear all the juicy details.”
“Goodbye.” There will be no juicy details this time.
The brief foray into German reminded Gwen to go back to her office for her Japanese dictionary and software. If she wanted to promote herself as an expert in Asian relations, she needed to get her fluency back in Japanese. Which meant she was dependent on software for the time being. Hopefully Evie didn’t eat with her feet and she’d have some time to practice…
As she loaded her car, she questioned her sanity one last time. If all went well, this could change everything for her. If she could just get HarCorp as a satisfied customer, every company in Dallas would be lining up for her services. Heck, HarCorp could open doors for her all over Texas.
But if Evie wasn’t ready in time…she could kiss most of her clientele goodbye. Sarah wasn’t wrong about her business suffering if the gossip columns decided to portray her as some kind of immoral floozy. But the true Worst Case Scenario was if she didn’t produce the results Will Harrison expected. Unhappy Harrisons spelled certain doom for her entire business—including the debs. No one would hire her for anything if the Harrisons blacklisted her. The Dallas elite were a close-knit group. Alienating one meant alienating them all.
This was make or break time.
Nothing like a little pressure to keep a girl on her toes. She shifted into Drive and tried to think positively.
On a map, Will Harrison’s high-rise building might be only four miles from her funky M Street cottage, but in terms of wealth, Gwen felt like she’d traveled to the moon.
She stopped under the porte cochere where a doorman met her at her car and introduced himself as Michael. She identified herself, half expecting to be told to move her simple Honda to a less-affluent area.
“Miss Sawyer, of course. Mr. Harrison said to expect you. Let me help you with your things, and Ricky will take your car to the garage.”