Dreaming Of… Italy. Alison Roberts
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but polite and efficient.
Thick cloying perfume reached him long before dark-haired, dark-eyed Maria did. Tall and regal, educated at Harvard, and well-versed in art and music, Maria was exactly the kind of woman Tucker liked to be seen with. Arm candy with a brain.
“Tucker, how sweet of you to make time for me.”
* * *
Vivi almost gagged. Holy cow on the cologne, but calling Tucker Engle sweet? This woman obviously wanted something.
“I’m sorry for the wait.” He glanced at Olivia, then smiled at Maria. “A little miscommunication with my assistant.”
Vivi shook off the insult of that. He hadn’t told her any of his preferences, especially not about calls. But he probably assumed she knew those kinds of things, which meant she’d have another assignment that night. Not only did she have to figure out how to stifle her tongue, but she’d have to call her mom, a lifelong administrative assistant, to learn a bit about working for the top banana of a company.
“I’m thrilled you decided to drop in on us.” Tucker seated Maria with him on the sofa and motioned for Vivi to sit on the chair beside it.
She opened her notebook.
Maria smiled at her. “No need to record our conversation, darling.”
“Miss Prentiss isn’t going to record our conversation, just the salient points.”
Laughing, she patted Tucker’s knee. “Is your memory that bad, Tucker?”
He slid his arm across the sofa, and nearly around Maria. “There are three of you. I’m going to talk with all of you and compare stories.”
Her lips turned down into a pretty pout. “Really? You don’t trust me?”
He chuckled. “A man doesn’t get to where I am without having fail-safe mechanisms in place. Miss Prentiss is one of them.”
Maria’s gaze crawled over to her.
She took in Vivi’s khaki trousers and simple white blouse. Then the long strawberry blonde hair Vivi had put into a ponytail that hung over her shoulder.
“I see.”
A flush crept up Vivi’s neck to her cheeks. As if the condescending appraisal wasn’t bad enough, Maria Bartulocci’s tone dripped with disapproval.
Memories of walking down the street, being pointed at, whispered about and called names rushed through her. It had been a long time since she’d remembered that, but it had also been a while since she’d been with someone who so clearly disliked her.
Still, those bullies had nothing to do with her job, so she ignored the feelings, the memories. She’d learned lots of coping skills in the three years that had passed, and it would take more than a crappy look from a snotty socialite to drag her down.
Tucker said, “Rumor has it your uncle is considering retiring.”
“That’s not a rumor. It’s true.”
“Has he set a date?”
“More like a time frame. Next spring.” Maria rose. “Take me to lunch and I’ll tell you about your competition.”
Tucker followed suit, rising to stand beside her. “I know my competition.”
“Such a smart man,” Maria purred, stepping up to him and running her hand down his tie. “Let’s leave the little one behind and get ourselves a drink.” She flicked her gaze at Vivi with a laugh. “Really, Tucker, where did you find this one? And why don’t you pay her enough to buy decent clothes?”
Vivi’s mouth fell open. Seriously? A stinky debutante who was throwing herself at a man had the audacity to criticize her clothes?
Tucker caught Maria’s hand and led her to the elevator, leaving Vivi behind without a backward glance or even a nod toward telling her how long he’d be gone or how he could be reached in an emergency.
“I don’t care what my employees look like. They only have to be able to do their jobs.”
The elevator door opened. “I know, but seriously. Did you get a look at her?”
She heard Tucker’s voice, but couldn’t make out what he said or Maria’s reply. The door closed on his laugh.
Vivi glanced down at herself. These were her best trousers, her best blouse. And even she knew she looked like a street waif.
She might have coping mechanisms, but she couldn’t argue the truth. She didn’t belong here.
HUMILIATION AND DISAPPOINTMENT followed Vivi out of the city and up the stairs to the two-bedroom apartment she shared with her university friends Laura Beth Matthews and Eloise Vaughn. Because she and the Grim Reaper had worked late, she knew her roommates would have already eaten supper. The scent of spaghetti permeated the darkly paneled walls of the hall to their third-floor walkup. But she didn’t care. She was too tired to eat.
Short, sweet, brunette Laura Beth gasped as Vivi entered the apartment. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks.” She walked to the refrigerator, which was only ten feet away from the sofa in their tiny, open-floor-plan living space, and pulled out a bottle of water.
Eloise, a tall blonde beauty whose wealthy parents had spoiled her rotten, laughed. “First day of accounting not fun?”
“I’m not in Accounting.”
Laura Beth patted the couch cushion beside her and motioned for Vivi to sit. “What happened?”
“Tucker Engle’s assistant was in an accident and no one else will work with him. So I have to be his assistant for about eight weeks. But that’s all I can tell you because “the” Tucker Engle might share secrets with me, so I’m not allowed to talk to anyone about anything that goes on in his office. Otherwise, I think it’s an ethics violation.”
Eloise and Laura Beth just stared at her.
Vivi squeezed her eyes shut in misery. “I’m sorry for babbling. I’m tired.”
“You’re freaking out,” Eloise corrected.
“You would be, too, if you spent twelve hours working with a guy you didn’t like, who has visitors who are obnoxious.”
“You didn’t punch anybody did you?”
Vivi took a long drink of water. “No, but I was tempted.”
“Are you going to tell us details or are you going to make us guess?”
“I already told you I can’t reveal anything that goes on in that office. Confidentiality and all that. But I will say this—I haven’t been treated so rudely in three years.”
Eloise and Laura Beth exchanged a look. “Bad things happened to you three years ago.”
“Exactly.”
Laura Beth caught her hand. “Maybe you shouldn’t have taken the assignment.”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“So you have to work with a guy who reminds you of the worst time in your life?” Eloise sucked in a breath. “At least tell me he doesn’t look like Cord.”
“No and he doesn’t act like him either.” Cord had always been the life of everybody’s party. Grouchy Tucker Engle barely smiled. “But his one visitor today was exactly like Cord’s mom...Cordelia Dawson. The woman who thinks her son does no wrong.”
“You mean the woman who defended the kid who got you drunk and then attacked you. He would have raped you if you hadn’t gotten away.”
Vivi