desk. “Money?”
“You really must have impressed Mr. Barrington.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Impressed Mr. Barrington?”
“He’s giving you a twenty-five percent raise!” Poppy all but bounced out of her seat with joy.
Wendy’s mouth fell open. “Twenty-five percent?”
“Yes!” Poppy cried. “And isn’t it wonderful timing? He wants it backdated to last week so you’ll have extra money in time for Christmas!”
Her heart sank and the world spun, as her head filled with a truly awful conclusion. She’d brushed him off, so he was offering her money? This time her stomach turned over. Was he trying to buy her with a raise? “Oh really.”
Poppy’s happy expression faded. “You should be dancing.”
Wendy pulled in a breath, working to react naturally to what appeared to be good news, but what was, in reality, the worst possible news. “I’m dancing on the inside.”
“Wendy, everybody knows you recently got custody of your neighbor’s little boy. Maybe this is his way of helping.”
Wendy forced a smile. “I’m sure it is.”
Poppy handed some forms across the desk. “Here’s your paperwork. It has all the numbers. Your raise will be on this pay. Mr. Barrington simply asked that we keep this between us.”
Wendy rose. “I’m sure he did.”
Poppy apparently didn’t catch the note of dismay in Wendy’s voice because she rose, grabbed Wendy’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m so hoping this helps you with your little boy.”
Wendy smiled. She would look incredibly ungrateful if she didn’t show some appreciation. “It will. Thank you, Poppy.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank Mr. Barrington.”
“Oh, I will.”
Wendy left Poppy’s office, not sure if she was furious or ashamed. Particularly since the Barringtons had held raises to cost-of-living raises for the past five years. Being singled out to get a raise when everybody in the plant needed and deserved one, only made Cullen’s generosity stand out all the more. If anyone heard about this she’d be a pariah.
By the time she reached her office, she was breathing heavily. She stormed through the open door, into Cullen’s office and slapped the paperwork for her raise on his desk.
“What is this?”
He glanced up, took in her angry expression and his brow furrowed. “It’s paperwork to give you a raise?”
“I know!” Tossing her arms in the air, she pivoted away from the desk.
“And yet you’re angry.”
She spun to face him. “What do you think that money is going to get you?”
“Get me?”
“Do you think I’m going to sleep with you for this?”
The expression in his eyes went from confused to fiery in the beat of her heart. “You’d better stop talking and let me explain.” Real menace dripped from his words.
Her blood ran cold at his tone. Dear God, he was the boss! He could fire her, call security and have her escorted off the property. And she had a child to think about!
“I checked into your salary to see if I could help you out since you now have a son to support.” He sat back in his chair, tossed his pencil to his desk. “I certainly wasn’t intending to pay you to sleep with me.”
Her cheeks flamed. The room spun. It was so hard to breathe she wasn’t even sure she could speak, but there was no turning back. “You’re still treating me differently, showing me favoritism. Even if I was wrong about the reason—” she swallowed “—you can’t give me and no one else a raise without making it look like I did something to get on your good side.”
“When I checked your salary I saw everybody’s. No one in this plant has gotten above a cost-of-living raise in five years. Which is why everybody will be getting a raise similar to yours in January.”
Embarrassment coursed through her. She wanted to faint or die, but knew she couldn’t do either. She fell to the seat in front of his desk. “Everybody?”
“Yes. When I saw those numbers I was actually glad I was forced to take a real look at what was going on here. My dad and I check the big-picture figures when we get our profits every quarter, but we never looked at the details. Your situation forced me to do that.”
“Oh, God.” She squeezed her eyes shut.
“You don’t trust me. I get it. Personally, man to woman, I’m not to be trusted. I’m not looking for what you want. You probably couldn’t live the way I live. But don’t ever question my business judgment again.”
She swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
He sat back on Paul McCoy’s tall-backed black leather chair. “I’m not going to tell you it’s okay because it isn’t. But I am willing to forget about it and move on.”
“Thank you.”
“And don’t tell anyone about the raises.”
She looked up, confused.
“You need yours now. Don’t tell me you don’t. But accounting and human resources need time to process everyone else’s. So, on my order, they did yours now. But I don’t want anyone to be offended or upset. So please, keep this all under your hat until everyone’s raise is announced in January.”
She frowned. “But then no one will know you’re the one who authorized the raises.”
He picked up his pencil and glanced down at the papers in front of him again. “There’s no point.”
“Sure there is. It’s Mr. McCoy who’s run such a tight ship that we only got cost-of-living raises. He claimed the plant couldn’t afford more. So when he gets back, he’ll get the credit for giving everyone their raise.”
“This isn’t about who gets credit.” He didn’t even look up. “I was only giving you what you had worked for over the past four years. You may go now.”
Dismissed, Wendy rose. She’d put the last nail in the coffin of their friendship, and felt like a complete fool.
THAT night, after tucking Harry beneath a soft comforter and kissing him goodnight, Wendy ambled into her living room. In need of a little comfort herself, she made a fire in the fireplace, found a book and curled up on her sofa.
She read for only twenty minutes before the events of the day weighed down on her. She hadn’t meant to insult Cullen. She’d thought she was protecting herself. Which was just more proof that they were too different to get involved. So different she’d seen his kindness as an attempt to buy her favors and embarrassed herself.
Wondering what he saw when he looked at her, at her life, she glanced around his former home. Her sofa and chair were simple beige. The area rug atop the hardwood floors she and Greg had refinished was a modern print in soft yellow, cream and green that brought the room to life. The walls had been painted a pale yellow.
It was a soothing room, a calm room, but it wasn’t elegant. She couldn’t even imagine the kind of home he lived in in Miami. But he hadn’t looked down on her or her things the Saturday he’d stayed with her. He’d joined in her fun with Harry, working to make Harry happy. He’d slept on the floor without complaint and even cooked for her and Harry.
She frowned. Technically, with the exception of kissing her, everything he’d done had been for Harry. When he’d stepped