he asked. Then he knew exactly how long he’d been lost in his thoughts when Janelle said, “Mr. Simmons is here.”
“Thanks,” he said, heroically not groaning in her ear. “Have him come in.”
Brad straightened in his chair and prepared himself for another boring meeting.
Simmons stepped silently into the room and quietly closed the door behind him. He looked around the room.
“Isn’t Ms. Wood going to be here?” he asked, not bothering to hide his dismay at the prospect of dealing with Brad on his own.
Brad could certainly sympathize with Arthur’s obvious discomfort. “She’s been detained for some reason,” he replied briskly. “I’m certain we can manage to struggle through your reports without her.”
Simmons sat in one of the padded chairs in front of Brad’s desk. He placed a stack of folders precisely in front of him and pushed his wire-rimmed eyeglasses to the bridge of his nose, where they promptly slid to their original resting place.
He cleared his throat unhappily. “I was hoping that Ms. Wood would be able to—” he began before Brad interrupted.
“So was I, but she’s not here. So let’s get on with it.”
Simmons flinched and Brad silently cursed. Rachel, he thought, you’d better have a darned good reason for leaving me alone with Arthur. Otherwise I’ll make you pay for this—big time.
Forty-five minutes later, just as Brad’s eyes had begun to roll to the back of his head, his prayers were answered. Rachel opened the door to his office, looking as she always did, impeccably dressed and carrying a briefcase—the epitome of the modern businesswoman.
It was all Brad could do not to throw himself at her feet and beg her never to desert him like this again.
Now that he knew she was safe, he felt the beginnings of irritation seep into his consciousness. Couldn’t she have called? If she hadn’t intended to be here at the usual time, was there any reason why she couldn’t have shown him the courtesy of advising him of that fact?
He met her eyes and realized that whatever had delayed her wasn’t good. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her look so fragile. She had the same stricken look she’d worn when she’d gotten the news that her mother was terminally ill.
What in the world had happened?
Rachel walked to the desk, took the chair next to Arthur and gracefully seated herself.
“I apologize for my tardiness, gentlemen,” she said calmly. “Now then, where are we?” she asked, picking up the stack of papers that Simmons had placed in front of her chair earlier.
By the time the meeting was finally over, Brad’s jaw hurt from clenching his teeth. Rachel walked Simmons to the door, spoke a few—no doubt kind—words to him and smiled at his almost inaudible response.
She closed the door behind him and turned to Brad. “I apologize for coming into work so late and for not calling to let you know.” She walked back to her chair and sat before she continued. “I need to take a leave of absence, Brad. If that’s not convenient for you, I certainly can understand that you might wish to replace me.”
Chapter Two
Brad stared at her in shock…glad he was seated. Otherwise he would have made a fool of himself when his knees gave way at her calm announcement.
Rachel had just verbalized his greatest fear, only he hadn’t known it until now. The constriction in his chest made it difficult for him to breathe. He wondered if he were having a heart attack.
She sat there, waiting for him to say something.
His mind was blank. She intended to take a leave of absence? When he’d had trouble getting through a morning without her?
Then it hit him. She was kidding! “All right,” he said with a grin, “what is this? Are you hitting me up for another raise? If so, consider yourself successful.”
Rachel leaned forward in her chair. “I know this comes as a shock to you, Brad, and I’m sorry if my being away is going to inconvenience you. After seriously considering all of my options, I believe my getting away for a while will be best for all concerned.”
She wasn’t kidding.
He swallowed hard, hanging on to his control so that he didn’t pound the desk and bellow at her. Not that she hadn’t witnessed some of that behavior over the years, but it had never been aimed at her. Desolation swept over him at the idea that Rachel could so casually walk away from the business she had helped to create.
“Do I have any say in your decision or is it already written in stone?” he asked mildly. Only his clenched hands resting on the desk gave away his agitation. If she happened to notice.
Rachel sighed and looked toward the window for a long moment before turning back to him. “I haven’t wanted to bother you with any of this,” she finally said.
“Too late. I’m bothered. Now, what the hell is going on, Rachel?”
She leaned back in her chair and gave him a level stare. “Would it help if I told you it is personal and has nothing to do with the business?”
“I’m glad to hear it. Now tell me what’s going on.”
“You’re going to be difficult about this, aren’t you?” she asked, frowning.
He leaned forward. “You have no idea how difficult I’m going to be if you don’t start explaining—now—what has happened.” He enunciated each word with utmost precision.
Rachel sat up, clasping her hands tightly on the desk. “A few weeks ago I found an anonymous note in my apartment building mailbox. I’d never had anything like that happen to me before.”
“What did it say?”
“I don’t remember exactly. It was signed ‘Your Secret Admirer.’ The notes didn’t bother me at first—”
“Notes? You received more than one?”
She nodded. “They arrived every week or so and said things like ‘I’m so glad I know you…I want to spend time with you’…that sort of thing. As time passed the notes became more…more…personal.” She flushed. “They stated how much the writer wanted to hold me, kiss me…and…um…”
Brad could see she was uncomfortable discussing the matter with him.
“I threw the notes away as soon as I found them. I tried to ignore them because I knew there was nothing I could do. The police said the same thing.”
Brad froze. “The police?”
“Yes. That’s where I’ve been this morning…talking with the police.”
Brad didn’t like what he was hearing. She’d been receiving anonymous notes that had caused her to report them to the police and had never mentioned them to him. He wondered why? Did she truly see him as no more than her boss?
“What happened that made you go to the police?”
She bit her bottom lip and he realized she was trembling. “I arrived home late last night and immediately went to bed. This morning I took my shower and dressed as I usually do. When I went to my dresser to pick out a pair of earrings, I noticed there was a folded note lying on top of the dresser. I don’t know how long it had been there.”
Brad almost came out of his chair in outrage but knew he had to hang on to his temper until she told him the details. It took real effort for him to remain calm while he listened to her.
“At first I thought it was from my cleaning lady—she’d been there the day before—but she generally leaves a message by the kitchen phone. When I opened it, I saw it was signed ‘Your Secret Admirer.’”
Rachel had been looking