Behind The Boardroom Door: Savas' Defiant Mistress / Much More Than a Mistress / Innocent 'til Proven Otherwise. Michelle Celmer
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hair, then turned to face her. “Savas was…a gift from the gods.”
“Sebastian Savas?” Neely gaped at him. Greek gods bearing gifts, perhaps? Horrible thought. “I don’t think so.”
“You know what I mean. I was tearing my hair out in my office, telling Danny what had happened, and Savas came by—working late as usual—and Danny, joking, said, hey you want to buy a houseboat. And—” Frank shrugged, still looking dazed “—he did.”
Neely felt just as dazed as Frank. She’d lain awake half the night denying it to herself, convincing herself it was a bad dream. But it was actually just very bad reality, because when she’d come downstairs she’d still found half a dozen boxes of gear and a computer in the living room this morning.
“So…what happened?” Frank ventured after Neely stood there in silence, remembering the sinking feeling she’d experienced.
“Before or after Harm knocked him over the railing into the lake?”
Frank’s eyes bugged. “You’re joking.”
“I wouldn’t be capable of making that up.” The memory of it still made her smile, though very little else did. “He handled it with great aplomb,” she added grimly. “Just as you would expect. Swam back to the boat, pulled himself on board, stood there dripping and acted like that sort of thing happened every day of the week.”
Frank was shaking his head. “And…?” he prompted.
“And then he went upstairs, took a shower, changed his clothes, ordered a pizza, set up his computer and got to work. He was still working when I went up to bed.”
“He actually…moved in?” Frank sounded as if he couldn’t quite fathom it. “Without any warning?”
“He moved in,” Neely said wearily. There were no other words for it.
“So…what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Well, you can’t…I mean surely you’re not…”
“I have a lease,” Neely reminded him.
“But you’ll be living with Sebastian Savas!” Frank sounded as if he doubted her sanity.
“Well, what did you think was going to happen?” she demanded, exasperated by his astonished look, by the sight of his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“I thought—” Frank shook his head “—I guess I don’t know what I thought. That maybe he wanted it as an investment?” It was more a hopeful question than a statement of fact.
“He’d have been far more careful if he were buying it for an investment. This was obviously a spur-of-the-moment decision.”
“I guess,” Frank scratched his head. “But why?”
“Maybe he wants to make Max jealous.” Neely grinned.
Frank gaped.
“I’m kidding,” Neely said quickly. “But he does think I’m sleeping with the boss. And he definitely doesn’t approve.”
“Oh, Lord.” Frank laughed at that. “You haven’t told him about Max.”
“Of course not. He can think what he likes,” Neely said righteously. “He hates me anyway. This is just one more reason.”
“Hates you?” That surprised Frank. “The Iceman?” As if he couldn’t be bothered to muster up enough emotion to hate anyone.
“He thinks I design fluff,” Neely qualified. Maybe that wasn’t hate. But it still rankled, his haughty dismissal of her work as “girly stuff.”
“He just has a different vision.”
Neely gave him a wry smile. “Oh, yes. A very pointed, vertical vison.”
“Be kind,” Frank grinned. “You’ll have to be, now that you are living with him.”
That wiped the smile off her face. “Thanks to you.”
“I said I was sorry. Besides, I thought he was going to find you another place.”
Neely’s gaze narrowed. “You discussed it with him? He knew I lived there?”
“I said I had a tenant.”
“But not who?”
“Your name wouldn’t sell property to Mr. Savas.”
“No joke.”
“So didn’t he find you a place? I thought he would before he moved in.”
“Oh yes, he offered me a studio.”
“Well—”
“Can you see me and Harm and the kittens and the rabbits and the guinea pig and the fish in a studio? Besides,” she said, “I don’t want anyplace else. I want the houseboat!”
And, of course, her vehemence made Frank wince. Too bad. It was true.
She had fallen in love with Frank’s houseboat the minute she’d come to see the room he had for rent. She’d been there six of the seven months she’d lived in Seattle.
When he’d said he needed to sell it, she’d instantly offered to buy it.
She loved it and, having moved so much during her youth, she’d never really felt “at home” anywhere. Not the way she had on the houseboat. To be able to buy it and put down “roots”—albeit hydroponic ones—had been a cherished dream.
“Well, maybe he’ll change his mind,” Frank said hopefully. “You don’t know—maybe he woke up this morning and regretted it. He might be ready to move out. Then he could sell to you,” he added brightly.
Neely sighed. “And maybe tonight for dinner a roast duck will fly over and fall in my lap.”
Frank blinked. “What?”
“It’s a metaphor for incurable optimism, Frank,” she said wearily. “Never mind. Unlike you, I’m not expecting miracles. But I’ll simply have to convince him to sell to me. He’s all about business. I’ll just have to find his price. But I am not leaving.”
She would leave.
Sebastian was sure of it.
He’d told her pointedly last night right before she went upstairs that she had to move.
“If you don’t want to go to the apartment, that’s fine. It wouldn’t be a good place for your animals. But you’ve got to go somewhere.”
She hadn’t answered. She’d just given him a stony stare, then scooped up all her kittens and carried them upstairs.
But she hadn’t been here this morning when he got up. Granted, it was after nine and she might be anywhere. But the fact that she wasn’t here boded well as far as Seb was concerned.
It was a good day. The sun was shining, and he’d had—once he fell asleep—the best night’s sleep he’d had in years. There was something about being close to the water that lulled his mind, soothed his brain and sent him out like a light.
He hadn’t expected that. Ordinarily he didn’t sleep well except in his own bed. But last night, even despite his uncharacteristic impulse purchase of the houseboat and discovery of its unexpected tenant, once he’d hit the bed it hadn’t taken long for the lap of the water against the hull, and the ever so slight movement to carry him back to his childhood, to the summers spent at his grandparents’ on Long Island.
Their house was by the shore, and his grandfather had a boat that he and Seb used to take out to sail. And every now and then he would cajole his grandfather into spending the night on the boat. It had been the treat of the summer.
Last night had reawakened that long-forgotten