résumés.
Jillian hopped out of her chair to help clean up the mess. One particular paper caught her eye; it was a memo from the company’s public relations office with lots of capital letters and exclamation points.
Under no circumstances should anyone speak with reporter Mark Bowen— That was as much as Jillian could read on the fly.
“Oh, goodness, thank you,” Joyce said. “I’m afraid I’ve gotten behind in my paperwork. Things have been a little crazy around here the last few weeks.”
Jillian wasn’t surprised. When one of your employees was murdered and found in the trunk of your CEO’s car, it probably created all kinds of havoc.
Jillian made no reference to the scandalous situation. “Business is booming, then?” she asked innocently.
“Well, yes, business is good. But that’s not… It’s just that we’ve lost some key people recently. Others are retiring, including our acting CEO.”
Hamilton Payne. He was the one who had contacted Project Justice, and the only person working here who knew of Jillian’s true purpose.
“Your job must be quite demanding,” Jillian said sympathetically as she stacked the last of the fallen papers and laid them on the desk. “I hope you have a good admin.”
“On maternity leave,” Joyce said glumly.
“If I have any extra time, I’d be happy to help you out.” Jillian wasn’t just being generous. Joyce obviously knew the ins and outs of Mayall Lumber—who the key players were, their salaries, their responsibilities. She and her office could be a gold mine of information.
“Trust me, working for Mr. Blake, you won’t have much free time. He’ll keep you busy.”
Jillian hoped this Mr. Blake wouldn’t be too ghastly. But no matter how bad he was, she would make it work. She only had to put up with it for a short time, just until she found something to prove Stan Mayall’s innocence.
Mr. Blake’s office was on the third floor, in the executive wing. Mayall Lumber was a medium-size operation, with two sawmills, one large lumberyard and a posh corporate headquarters overlooking Houston’s Buffalo Bayou. They had only one retail outlet, a small place that specialized in exotic woods of the highest quality for furniture and cabinet makers. Most of their business involved selling to the construction trade and small lumber retailers. Daniel had provided tons of information on the company, which Jillian had dutifully memorized. Her knowledge had obviously impressed Joyce.
The personnel director stopped in front of an oak door and tapped softly. “Mr. Blake?”
“It’s open,” a deep voice called from inside.
Jillian barely had time to register that something about the voice struck a chord of familiarity before Joyce ushered her inside the gorgeous office.
The first thing Jillian noticed was the wood—wood floor, paneling, box beams holding up the ceiling. It was all stained a dark cherry color with beautiful grain. The furniture was made of wood, too. Despite the lack of upholstery, the chairs looked warm and comfortable. The desk, big as a Humvee, was made of some gleaming, exotic wood with a stripe pattern, reminding her of a crouched jungle beast. The only softness in the whole room was a low-slung 1960s retro sofa.
Finally she raised her gaze to the man behind the desk, her new boss. Every sane thought, every polished word she’d been about to use to introduce herself, melted away like mist in the sun. The giant, egotistical, bastard sun.
Mr. Blake. Conner Blake. The boy who had made high school a living hell for her. The boy she had once desperately loved, then hated with all the angst a fourteen-year-old girl could muster.
The cocky, mischievous boy was now a man, but despite the umpteen years since she’d seen him, he was instantly recognizable. A bit taller, a bit broader in the shoulders, hair more sandy than blond, but the beautifully carved planes of his face had grown only more handsome with the passage of time.
“Mr. Blake, I’d like you to meet your new administrative assistant, Jillian Baxter.”
He looked at her then, and she figured the jig was up. She would have to slink back to Project Justice with no job, her first undercover operation a bust because she had, in a fit of adolescent revenge, slashed two of her potential boss’s tires, an impulsive act that had only escalated her humiliation into high school legend.
But the look on his face reflected not a hint of recognition, only what she surmised was mild irritation at having to deal with the mundane task of welcoming a new assistant.
She held her breath as introductions, handshaking, and small talk ensued, waiting for the inevitable moment when he remembered. But, amazingly, it never came. Conner Blake had once been the center of her world. Apparently Jillian Baxter had been nothing but a tiny, forgettable blip on his radar screen.
He was still so gorgeous. It wasn’t fair that the universe would give one man that much sexy charisma. Even as the feelings of humiliation welled up, fresh as a new coat of nail polish, her heart thumped with an irregular tempo from the simple contact of a handshake and the knowledge that he was sizing her up.
What did he think of her, this new acquaintance suddenly thrust into his working life? While he retained a certain essence of his high school face and physique, she looked very different than she had the last time he’d seen her, as a high school freshman. She’d grown five inches and lost twenty pounds, for starters. The chlorine-bleached, frizzy cloud of hair from high school, courtesy of swim team, was now tamed into a sleek bob with expert lowlights.
She’d still been in braces her freshman year. She’d also worn glasses. And then there was…the nose. She’d broken it at a swim meet her senior year, and since she’d needed rhinoplasty anyway, she’d asked the surgeon to transform her nose so it was more in proportion to her face.
If her name didn’t ring a bell, Conner probably wouldn’t recognize her by her appearance, and that was a very good thing. If she didn’t shine during her first undercover assignment, she might never get any respect from her colleagues at Project Justice. She would forever be Daniel’s ex-assistant, the one who’d made a fool of herself by falling in love with her boss.
That’s all over now. New life, new goals. Jillian Baxter, finally grown up at age twenty-seven, knew what she wanted to do with her life. She wanted to help exonerate those unjustly accused of crimes. And she didn’t want a man—any man. The two men she’d given her heart to, devoted every fiber of her being to, had both brushed her aside with not even a flicker of interest.
The wanting hurt, and the rejection hurt, and why should she put herself through that again? Ever?
“So, I’ll expect you to be prompt,” Conner was saying. “I start my workday at 7:00 a.m., and therefore, so will you.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Blake,” she said with all the icy politeness she could muster even as her mind screamed, 7:00 a.m.? Is he crazy?
Joyce beamed. “Very good, then. Jillian, come with me and we’ll get all your paperwork started.” She headed out the door, and Jillian offered a nod to her new boss and followed. “Oh, goodness, I haven’t even shown you your work space. It’s just around the corner from Mr. Blake’s office, here. I’m afraid it’s a bit of a mess. The previous admin has been gone three weeks and things have piled up.”
Jillian took one look at the office and cringed. It would take her hours to shovel this place out. She couldn’t stand to work in a disorganized space.
“I should have warned you Mr. Blake starts the workday early,” Joyce rattled on. “I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s fine.” Jillian wasn’t a morning person, but she would do whatever it took to please her new boss, even if she despised him down to his rotten, cruel core.
* * *
“I REALLY NEED THAT REPORT ASAP.” Hamilton Payne, acting CEO at Mayall Lumber, sank into