A Little Surprise for the Boss (Mills & Boon Desire) (9 page)

Her hand loosened its grip on the tire iron. Acting on a hunch, Terri walked around to the back of the house. When she and Steve were kids, they’d adopted a small stray dog and had talked their grandmother into installing a pet entrance in the back door. The dog was long gone, but the swinging flap remained. The latch that held it shut would be easy to lift or break from the outside, especially for a certain little someone who had been to her house before and knew where to feel for it.

On the back porch, she crouched next to the pet door and gave it a gentle push. It swung freely. Terri began to relax.

She opened the back door with her key and walked into the kitchen. No one was there, but she could see the glow of a floor lamp in the living room. “Hello?” she called softly. No one answered.

Knowing she couldn’t be too careful, she kept a grip on the tire iron as she walked into the living room. Fast asleep on the old sofa, under the crocheted afghan, was Quinn.

Terri laid the tire iron on the rug and dropped to her knees beside the sofa. Only then did she see the tearstains on Quinn’s face. Buck’s daughter had cried herself to sleep.

“Quinn, wake up!” Terri gave the girl’s shoulder a gentle nudge.

With a little murmur, Quinn opened her eyes. “Hi, Terri,” she said.

“What on earth are you doing here?” Terri was torn between hugging the girl and reading her the riot act.

Quinn sat up. “I was bored, and I wanted to see you. I thought maybe we could do something together.”

“But how did you get here, Quinn? It’s two or three miles, at least, from your father’s house.”

“I walked. I went the short way, on the old back road, but it still took me
forever
. Then you weren’t here, and I was too tired to walk home. I would’ve called somebody to come get me, but Daddy won’t let me have a phone. He says I’m not old enough.”

Terri felt weak-kneed. Porter Hollow wasn’t a big place, but with so many strangers around, anything could’ve happened to the girl. “Did you tell anybody where you were going?”

Quinn shook her head. “Mrs. C. would’ve stopped me. She treats me like a prisoner. Can’t I stay here for a while?”

Terri rose to her feet. “Not another minute. Your dad and Mrs. Calloway will be frantic. I’ve got to take you home.”

“Can’t you just call them?” Quinn looked ready to cry again.

“I don’t have a landline. My phone’s dead and we don’t have time to recharge it. Come on.” She took Quinn’s hand and pulled her up. “Did you bring anything, like a backpack?”

Lower lip jutting, Quinn shook her head. “Aren’t you at least glad to see me?”

“Oh, honey, of course I am!” Terri flung her arms around the pouting child. “I’m always glad to see you.”

Quinn nestled against her. “You’re not mad?”

“Not a bit. Just surprised and very glad you’re okay.”

“Then why can’t I stay?”

“Because your dad will be looking for you. He’ll be worried sick. Now come on, let’s get you home.”

Terri locked the house and rushed Quinn out to the Jeep. Avoiding the Main Street traffic, she took the back way to the canyon turnoff. Beside her in the passenger seat, Quinn was silent. Buck’s daughter probably felt she’d been betrayed—that the one friend she’d turned to was hauling her home to be punished. Attempting to explain might be a waste of breath, but Terri knew she had to try.

“You know your father loves you, don’t you, Quinn?”

“Does he? Then why does he leave me alone so much?”

Because he has a company to run and he has a lot of demands on his time.
That was the first reply that popped into Terri’s head. But she knew it wouldn’t be enough for Quinn. She had to go deeper, to find an answer that would mean something to a lonely little girl.

“You know he’s busy,” she said. “But I think the real reason is that he doesn’t understand how much you need him—or how much he needs you.”

Quinn pondered a moment. “So how do we let him know that?”

Terri had turned the Jeep onto the canyon road. Ahead she could see the lights of the house, blazing like a beacon in the night. “I’ll give it some thought,” she said, for want of a wiser answer. “You think about it, too. Maybe something will come to us.”

The gate stood open. As she drove through, Terri could feel the tension flooding her body. After a cataclysmic fight and an awkward parting, she’d hoped for some private time to rest, recover and think about her future. But no such luck. Thanks to Quinn, she was about to face Buck again.

* * *

Buck had found no trace of Quinn in the canyon. Murphy had treated the whole outing as a romp, tugging at his leash, sniffing at squirrel holes and lifting his leg at every bend in the trail. After calling Quinn’s name again and again, shining his flashlight over every foot of terrain, and twisting his knee when he slipped on a patch of loose rock, Buck had limped home, more worried than ever. He’d kept his cell phone on but no one had called. And he still couldn’t reach Terri.

He could remember feeling this helpless only one other time in his life—that was the day Steve had been struck by a sniper’s bullet and carried back to camp to die in Buck’s arms.

He’d just stepped onto the porch when he spotted the familiar headlights coming up the driveway. His pulse quickened. He’d know that old Jeep anywhere. He didn’t know why she was here, but maybe Terri would have some idea where Quinn might be.

As the Jeep pulled up to the house and stopped, and he saw the small figure in the passenger seat, his heart contracted with a pain that was almost physical. Rushing down the steps, he flung the Jeep’s door open, unhooked her seat belt and pulled his daughter into his arms.

“Thank God you’re all right,” he muttered, hugging her close.

She squirmed, pulling back a little. “I’m fine, Daddy. I was just at Terri’s house.”

Terri came around the back of the Jeep then, still wearing the clothes she’d worn on the river. She looked tired enough to drop.

“What happened?” Buck demanded before she could open her mouth. “I’ve been worried sick. I’ve got the sheriff and my security people combing the town for her. And I’ve been trying to reach you for the past couple of hours. Why in hell’s name didn’t you call me, Terri?”

She stopped in her tracks, looking as if he’d slapped her. “Call off the search,” she said in a cold voice. “Then I’ll explain—that is, if you’re willing to listen.”

He eased Quinn to the ground. “Go tell Mrs. Calloway you’re here,” he said. “Have her get you some supper if you’re hungry. I’ll be inside in a few minutes.”

As his daughter dragged her feet into the house, Buck made a couple of quick calls on his phone, letting the searchers know his daughter was safe. Then, still shaken, he turned back to Terri.

“Well?”

She told him what had happened—the dead battery in her phone and her decision to take care of her grandmother’s arrangements before going home. “I walked into the house to find that Quinn had broken in through the old pet door and fixed herself some cereal. She was asleep on the sofa. I couldn’t call you, so I woke her up and drove her here. And now that she’s home safe, I’ll be going. Forgive me, Buck, I’ve had a long, rough day, and you aren’t making it any easier.”

Turning away, she started walking back around the Jeep.

“Wait!” Buck said.

“Yes?” She turned slowly back to face him, her gaze frigid.

“I need to know this. Did Quinn say anything about why she ran away?”

“Yes, she did. It was partly because she was bored. But mostly because she doesn’t believe you love her. Quinn adores you, and she wants time with her father. But except for that first night, all you’ve done is go off to work and leave her with Mrs. Calloway. When you left for the river you didn’t even tell her goodbye. If I was your daughter, Buck Morgan, I would run away, too—fast and far!”

Terri’s words stung—mostly because they were true. It had taken this scare to make Buck realize how badly he’d neglected his precious little girl. “You’re right, Terri. I’m sorry,” he started to say, but she cut him off.

“Don’t apologize to
me
!”
she snapped. “And don’t stop at just an apology to Quinn. Before you know it, she’ll be a young woman. If she doesn’t get the attention she needs from you, she’ll look for it someplace else—and find it. By then it’ll be too late. Think about that when you go back in the house and start planning your week.”

Her lower lip quivered. She was getting emotional. He hated it when women got emotional. “Why don’t you come in and have some supper with us, Terri?” Buck said, hoping to calm her. “You must be hungry.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”

“Then go on home and get some rest. Take a few days off for the funeral. Take a week, if you want. I can manage without my right-hand woman for a few days.”

She sucked in her breath, looking as if she were about to explode. “You’re going to have to manage a lot longer than that,” she said. “Forget about the two weeks’ notice I gave you. And forget about my doing the gala. I’m quitting as of right now.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

F
ighting tears, Terri drove down the canyon. She hadn’t planned her farewell outburst. She’d wanted to leave Buck on friendly terms, not like this, in a storm of hurt and anger.

Should she apologize? Tell Buck she’d changed her mind and wanted more time to make plans? No, Terri told herself. What was done was done. The break she’d both needed and dreaded had been made. Why go back, and then have to do it again when the time came?

She’d meant to drive straight home. But her preoccupied mind hadn’t been paying attention. By the time she realized where she was going, she was almost at the hotel complex that housed the Bucket List office. She slowed the Jeep, debating with herself. She was tired and she’d just made an emotional decision. She’d be wise to go home, get some rest and let things settle before taking action.

But why take the chance that she could go soft and change her mind? The office was empty now. She could let herself in, write up her resignation letter and leave it on Buck’s desk. She could also go through her emails, deleting all but the most essential, and clean her personal items out of her desk. Buck would arrive in the morning to find her gone and everything in order.

She’d left the Jeep and was unlocking the office door when another wave of doubt overtook her. For the past ten years, her life had revolved around helping Buck run his business and his life. Now change was coming. She owed it to herself to let that change happen. She needed it to happen.

Still, letting go of everything familiar would be like closing her eyes and stepping off a precipice.

For almost half her life she’d been in love with Buck Morgan. She’d let her imagination build him into a romantic hero, excusing his faults and cleaning up after his mistakes. But tonight had opened her eyes and slammed her against the hard wall of reality. The man was an insensitive jerk with skewed priorities. The people who cared most about him—especially Quinn—were the ones he took most for granted. No wonder he’d never remarried after Diane. And no wonder his daughter had left the house this afternoon.

Walk away
, she told herself as she turned the key in the lock.
Now, while the door’s open, walk away and don’t look back.

It took her fifteen minutes to bring up her computer, compose a brief, impersonal letter of resignation and send it to the printer. It took another fifteen minutes to clean out her inbox and shut down her computer, collect a few personal items in a cardboard box, sign the letter, and leave it on Buck’s desk, where he’d see it first thing tomorrow.

After securing Buck’s door, she picked up the cardboard box, locked the outer office and walked to her Jeep. She’d put out some feelers a few days ago and already had a couple of job offers. After her grandmother was buried, she would make a final decision and start packing.

She was done here—finished with the job and the man. It was time to begin a new chapter in her life.

* * *

Buck arrived at work an hour early. With Terri on funeral leave—he refused to believe she’d really meant what she’d said about quitting—and with a four-day accumulation of phone messages and email to answer, the day was bound to be a busy one.

Parking the Hummer in its reserved spot, he whistled on his way to the outside door of his private office. He’d promised to take Quinn horseback riding after work. She’d given him a scare last night, but he didn’t have the heart to punish her. He would show her a good time, they would forgive each other and all would be well in his world.

Stepping into the office, the first thing he noticed was the sheet of paper in the exact center of his desk. He picked it up. He read it. He swore out loud.

He read it again—the tersely worded letter of resignation, so cold, so formal. His jaw tightened. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to end this nonsense. Striding into Terri’s office, he opened the filing cabinet that held the personnel records for his employees. Since Terri had arranged the file folders in alphabetical order, finding the one he needed was easy. He took a quick look inside to make sure the folder contained what he needed. Then, clutching it in his hand, he locked the office, climbed into the Hummer and roared out of the parking lot.

* * *

Terri had returned home last night, taken a long, sudsy shower, pulled on an oversize cotton T-shirt and burrowed into bed. The next thing she knew, it was morning, and someone—or something—was pounding on her front door.

Throwing on the old blue terry cloth robe that had been Steve’s, she stumbled across the living room to the door. A look though the tiny glass peephole was enough to make her wish she’d stayed in bed.

“Go away,” she said loudly enough to be heard through the door. “I’m sleeping.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Terri. Let me in.” He sounded mad enough to kick the door down. Unhooking the chain and sliding back the bolt, she opened the door a few inches.

“Can’t this wait?” she asked. “You just woke me out of the first decent sleep I’ve had in days.”

“No, it can’t wait, and I’m not leaving. So unless you want me to stand here and yell at you, you might as well let me in.”

She opened the door. Spotlessly groomed and ready for the day, he stepped across the threshold like a conqueror taking possession. He’d spent a lot of time in this house when he and Steve were boys. But after his deployment, Terri couldn’t remember his ever coming to visit. Had he stayed away because it held too many painful memories, or because he just never thought of it?

He glanced around the room, maybe thinking how little the place had changed. Terri noticed the personnel folder in his hand. It would be hers, of course. She should have realized this would happen. Too bad she wasn’t better prepared.

He motioned toward the couch, his expression a thundercloud. “Sit down,” he said. “I want to show you something.”

He wasn’t her boss anymore, Terri reminded herself. She didn’t have to take his orders. But it wasn’t worth arguing the point. She sat. He took a seat beside her, opened the folder and took out a one-page document with the Bucket List letterhead at the top.

“This is the employment contract you signed when you went to work for me,” he said. “Read it. Pay special attention to paragraph three.”

Terri sighed. She’d been over that document with every new hire at Bucket List. “I don’t need to read it,” she said. “I know what it says.”

“Then you know you’re
required
to give two weeks’ notice.”

“I did!”

“Not officially, in writing—not until last night.”

“You’re actually going to hold me to that?”

“You’re damned right I am—even it means suing you for breach of contract.”

Terri’s jaw dropped. “You wouldn’t dare!”

One dark eyebrow slithered upward. “Wouldn’t I? Just try me, lady.”

They glared at each other like two fighters going toe-to-toe. Then, abruptly, Buck exhaled and shook his head. “If you want to go, I won’t stop you, Terri. But does it have to be like this, completely gone overnight, right in the heart of our busiest season? Damn it, don’t you understand? I
need
you!”

If he’d raged and threatened all morning, nothing could’ve had as much effect as those last three words. The only times Terri had heard them before was in connection with an order, as in
I need you to requisition more coffee.

Unattached to anything else, the words struck Terri like a knife to the heart. But they didn’t mean what she wanted them to mean, she told herself. All he really needed was her help at work.

“Two more weeks—just until the gala’s over, that’s all I’m asking,” he said. “Give me that, and I’ll give you a severance package to make your head spin—and I’ll write a great recommendation to go with it.”

“And if I leave now? If I don’t come back at all?”

His mouth hardened. “I won’t take you to court—it would be bad publicity for the company. But you walk away with nothing. Your choice.”

Terri broke eye contact and gazed down at her hands. The reality was, the transition to a new job and the move to a new place would take time and money. Her grandmother’s care had taken most of her savings. The funeral service would take the rest. The extra two weeks of work and the severance package Buck had promised could make all the difference for her. Pride had its price, and right now she couldn’t afford it.

“When’s your grandmother’s service going to be?” He spoke as if he already knew he’d beaten her.

“Tomorrow—at the graveside. Just a simple ceremony. She had no living relatives except me, and most of her old friends are already gone.” She met his cool gaze. “There’s no reason I can’t be back at work the next day. There’ll be a lot to do before the gala.” She gave him a steely look. “But since you brought up the subject of contracts, Buck, I want my severance terms in writing.”

A look of surprise flashed across his face. Rising, he hid it quickly. “Fine. I’ll write up an acceptance of your resignation and the terms of your severance and have it on your desk when you come in.” He sounded like a stranger, this man she’d known since his boyhood. But that was how things would have to be from here on out.

He walked to the door, then paused. “I’m sorry about your grandmother, Terri. She was a fine lady, and she was very good to me.” The door closed behind him. Seconds later Terri heard the sound of the Hummer starting up. The old Buck would have put his arms around her and given her a brotherly hug. But things had changed between them, perhaps forever.

* * *

Feeling as if he’d just been kicked by a mule, Buck drove back to the office. He’d gotten what he wanted—Terri’s services for another two weeks. But the outcome of their meeting didn’t feel like a victory. He could have told her how much he valued and appreciated her. Instead he’d bullied and threatened her into their agreement. He didn’t like himself much right now. As Terri’s late grandmother might have put it, he felt lower than a snake’s belly.

When Terri came back, he would treat her right—give her the generous severance she deserved and write her a recommendation fit to win her the Nobel Prize for administrative assistants, if there was such a thing. And for the next two weeks he would be the very soul of kindness and respect. But after last night, Buck knew better than to think he could change her mind through any action on his part. And if he kept trying to manipulate her, he’d just drive her further away. Terri wanted more from life than what she’d found here in Porter Hollow. If he cared about her happiness he would ease the way for her to go.

But what was he going to do after she was gone?

Pulling into the parking lot behind the hotel, he groaned. The big white Lincoln that Diane kept in a garage at the airstrip for her visits was parked outside his private office. Whatever had motivated his ex-wife to come all the way here, it couldn’t be good.

For a moment he was tempted to turn around and leave. But no, better to get it over with, he told himself. The sooner he faced her the sooner he could finish their business and get on with the rest of his day.

Using the outside door, he walked into his office. Diane, immaculate in a white linen suit with a two-thousand-dollar designer scarf at her throat, was leaning back in his leather chair with her gold metallic Jimmy Choo sandals resting on his desktop. Her platinum hair curled softly around her face. She was showgirl tall, a woman who would have turned heads even without the surgical enhancements to her face and body.

“Hello, Buck.” Her voice sounded like the growl of a tigress getting ready to pounce.

Buck remained on his feet. “This is a surprise. You could’ve called and let me know you were coming.”

“Why should I? As part owner of this company, there’s no reason I can’t show up anytime I want.”

“Can I order you anything, an iced tea, maybe?”

“Don’t bother. This won’t take long.” She swung her feet to the floor and sat up. “I thought I should tell you before I went to your house. I’m here to take Quinn home.”

That got his attention. “No!” He clenched his fist as her words sank in. “She’s here for the summer. We have a legal agreement that says so.” Even as he spoke, Buck remembered the email on Quinn’s computer, telling her mother how miserable she was. Lord, how was Diane going to twist this against him?

“Legal agreements can be changed. You went off and left Quinn with the nanny for four days without even telling her goodbye. She was so unhappy that she ran away and was lost for hours.”

“Who told you that?”

“Mrs. Calloway. She called me last night—said she had the child’s best interest at heart.”

Buck felt as if the cold jaws of a trap were closing around him—a trap he’d walked into blindly. He adored his daughter. It wasn’t as if he’d wanted to leave her. But he simply hadn’t paid enough attention to her needs. He’d made sure she’d be taken care of, and yet he hadn’t bothered to do anything to make her
happy
. He’d set himself up for this, and now he was vulnerable. “It was an emergency,” he said, realizing as he spoke how lame the excuse sounded.

“Yes, I understand.” Her voice dripped sarcasm. “A business emergency. I’ve already called my lawyer to discuss suing for full custody, on the grounds that your work makes you unfit to be a father. He thinks we have a good chance of winning.”

Buck fought down a surge of rage and panic. Leaving Quinn had been a bad decision. But he realized that now and had already resolved to change his behavior going forward. And anyway, she’d been safe and well cared for the whole time. Surely he didn’t deserve to lose her for that.

“Even you wouldn’t be that cruel,” he said. “You know Quinn means the world to me.”

“Does she?” Diane laughed. “You couldn’t prove that by me, Buck.”

He caught the glint of triumph in her jade-green eyes. She’d backed him into a corner, and she knew it. But something told Buck she hadn’t chartered a flight and walked in here dressed to kill out of concern for Quinn. Yes, she loved her daughter—but if she truly wanted to take Quinn away from him, she’d have gone straight to his house, not to the office. Somehow, there was a business angle to this. One thing he’d learned during their brief marriage was that Diane was a master manipulator.