Worst Week Ever (A Long Road to Love) (5 page)

Carrie
understood the betrayal he must have felt. Nothing hurt more than parents who
always saw you in the worst of lights. “Clearly, your parents didn’t know you.”

He continued
to stare at the carcass of the abandoned car. Determine to lighten the mood,
she added, “You aren’t capable of murder. Otherwise you wouldn’t have so many
terrible employees.”

He lifted her
hand and kissed her knuckles.

A shock of
electricity ran up her arm and gave her heart a jolt. Had he really just kissed
her knuckles a second time?

His gaze
returned to her. “Knowing the systems manager purposely hid information from me
while padding his budget with friends and family, I might be able to rise to
the occasion now.”

She shook her
head. “Nope. You’ll only threaten to kill him and get yourself arrested.”

He frowned and
changed the topic. “So you got out of your twin’s shadow?”

“Yes, when I
headed East for college.” She sighed with pure happiness, remembering her arrival
at Columbia. “Without my sister sucking up all my oxygen, for the first time in
my life, I could breathe.”

“I envy you.
You can’t escape a dead person’s shadow. They follow you wherever you go.
‘Master Thomas was such a nice young boy, but oh, that horrible Trent!’”

“How old were
you?”

“Seven.”

She understood
his pain. Having no words to soften it, she squeezed his hand.

Trent released
a heavy sigh. “I’d thought, once proven innocent of fratricide, things would
turn for the better and I’d get more time with my parents.” He snorted. “Be
careful what you ask for. I wanted their attention, and boy, did I get it. They
decided to turn me into my older brother. Buzz-cut my hair. Made me wear his
clothes. The kids at prep school made fun of me when they saw me off campus wearing
clothes three years out of fashion. But did my parents care about my
humiliation?” He shook his head. “They just wanted their good son back.”

His pain
resonated within her, echoing her own. Never had she imagined she and Trent
might have similar emotional wounds. “Parents can be unknowingly cruel when
they love one child more than the other.”

Scooting
closer to her, he nodded. “In my case, I can at least understand why they
preferred my brother, but I’m clueless why yours didn’t think you the cat’s pajamas.”

Carrie smiled
at his words. He never used phrases like that before she came to work for him.
In fact, she had to explain what cat’s pajamas meant, and upon learning, he
declared it a stupid phrase. Now, he’d found a use for it.

“How could
anyone not love you?” he asked softly.

Her heart
stirred with both pain from her past and gratitude he thought them wrong. “When
my sister enters a room, no one sees me. Not just my parents, but the teachers,
the girls
—
”

“And the boys?
They had to notice you.”

God, she hated
rehashing this. “Not really. The first time a boy approached, I got flustered
and hopeful, but he just wanted to talk about my sister. What music did she
like? Did she have anyone special? Could I put in a good word for him?” Carrie
rolled her eyes. “The boys adored my sister.”

“I’ve no
doubt, if she looks like you.”

Carrie smiled
at yet another compliment. She almost checked her boss’ forehead for a fever.
“Clothes and hairstyle matter a great deal to teenagers.”

“Don’t I know
it,” he grumbled.

She covered
his hand, knowing the kids must have teased him unmercifully for wearing
outdated clothes and having an unfashionable haircut.

“I never wore
makeup, and preferred baggy clothes. Then I could blame everyone’s preference
on superficial stuff rather than believing my sister truly outshined me.” She’d
never admitted this anyone. Why did she now?

Trent gathered
her into his arms and pulled her tight against his chest. “I take back what I
said about hiring your sister. I’d never hire her. Not even if it meant I had
to do the work myself.”

Carrie had
been about to push out of his hug, which clearly crossed the proper lines
between boss and employee, but she couldn’t. By sharing their pain, they’d
created a new line. They’d become trauma buddies…friends. She finally had a
friend who understood her pain at its deepest level. And she understood his. “Thank
you,” she whispered. Not for his promise never to hire her sister, but for
bonding with her, for making her feel that she no longer stood alone in the world.

“We are coming
to an exit, sir,” Sam announced from the front. “Please buckle up. I will do my
best to get us through this in one piece and alive.” To add to the drama, the
door locks clicked in unison like a jail door closing.

Trent had
somehow shifted all the way to center and instead of returning to his side, he
took the trouble to dig out the seatbelt. Once she declared them both secure,
the limo sped up.

Trent opened
his mouth, no doubt to complain, but shut it upon seeing blocks of burned-out, blackened
brick and gray concrete tenement buildings. Angry, clashing-color graffiti and
gang tags livened up the ground level walls. But not in a good way.

 This street
could have starred in an apocalypse movie. Hunched, shabby people slipped into
the black gaping holes while others stumbled out. Half starved and possibly
dead people lay like discarded lumps of clothes on the trash cluttered
sidewalks. She’d never seen this part of New York before, and honestly, she
could’ve gone her whole life without experiencing the terror pounding in her
heart.

The windows
are bulletproof
, she reminded herself when a gang of teens pointed at the
limo then moved toward it. Instead of slowing to avoid hitting the oncoming
kids, Sam increased his speed and headed straight down the road, right at them.

Oh God.
Somebody’s going to die!

Carrie
squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the thump of a body against the limo’s
hood.

“Maybe I
shouldn’t have insisted Sam take a shortcut,” Trent muttered beneath his
breath.

She groaned softly.
If her boss questioned his actions, then matters must look grim outside. She
tensed even further, expecting to hear multiple bodies slam into the car.

Sam braked
hard, turned right, and resumed driving a billion miles an hour. If not for the
seat belts, she and Trent would’ve sailed into the front seat, and then
plastered against the door. To secure her further, Trent protectively placed an
arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his warm chest.

She focused on
the thumping of his heart. It beat once to three of hers.
God, how can he be
so calm?

Determined to match
his bravery, she tried to raise her head, but he wouldn’t let her.

“Just a little
longer, I hope. Sam, when do we depart this third world country?”

“Two more
blocks, sir.”

“Thank God.
You’ve terrified poor Carrie to death.”

Instantly, the
limo’s speed dropped.

She turned her
head sideways so Sam might be able to hear her words. “Your driving doesn’t
frighten me, Sam, the neighborhood does.”

As if on cue,
a round of three loud pops sounded, followed by three thunks into her side door.
She squeaked like a mouse at the first thunk. By the third, her body shivered
in fear.

Trent’s arms
tightened around her as the limo picked up speed again. “We’re okay,” he
assured her, then his lips pressed against her temple. His calm certainty silenced
her tremors.

Having
successfully soothed her, he released his outrage upon Sam. “Why the hell did
you drive us through here?”

Sam calmly
replied as he drove the car at a billion miles an hour, taking corners at
deadly speeds. “I warned you the locals might not welcome us.”

“Someone just
shot at us?” Trent yelled.

“I’m sure they
didn’t mean for you to take it personally, sir.” Sam's nonchalant reply sounded
almost surreal.

Maybe none
of this is happening. Maybe I fell asleep in the traffic and my dream has gone
rogue
.

Her heart
calmed and she nuzzled closer to Trent, breathing in his masculine scent.
Secure in her dream, she confessed something she never would in real life. “You
smell good.”

Trent’s arms
relaxed a bit and he chuckled. “It’s called Trent. I had the cologne custom
developed. They assessed my natural odors and then determined the optimal
combination of scents to create my unique smell.”

She snorted.
Even in her dreams, he remained the strangest man she’d ever met. If she had
all the money in the world, she’d try to end poverty and violence in…whatever
hell they’d just driven through, not have some custom designed perfume created
so she’d smell really, really good.

She breathed
in and smiled. On the other hand, he smelled mind-boggingly delicious. Yet, she
couldn’t even say what he smelt like. She detected a touch of musk, sandalwood,
and a hint of citrus, but it didn’t come close to defining this complex scent.
It was unique, just like her incorrigible boss.

The limo
slowed to a crawl. “We’ve returned to civilization. “Where did you wish to go,
sir?”

“How long
until the traffic clears up on the bridge to nowhere?”

Carrie pushed
herself off Trent’s chest and studied her surroundings. The street sign said
Macomb’s Place, a name she didn’t recognize. Which meant all this scary
nonsense had really happened.

“We can no
longer take the bridge, sir. I have a one-gunshot-per-day limit. We’ll take the
Lincoln tunnel if you don’t mind. However, presently, all tunnels and bridges
to New Jersey are closed due to a bomb scare, so may I suggest you catch a
Broadway matinee and then have dinner.”

She cringed,
expecting Trent to transform into his father and berate the driver, who’d just
saved their lives, for wanting him to have an enjoyable wait.

Oddly, he
smiled. “Excellent idea.”

She pulled her
iPad from her briefcase to find out which shows still had tickets available.
Once they got Trent to his show, she’d ask Sam to drop her off at the office so
she could discover what disasters awaited her there.

Trent watched
her search for a second, then he refocused on Sam. “Hold on. How do you know
about a bomb scare?”

Sam pointed to
his right ear. “I’m listening to the radio.”

In classic
Trent petulance, he asked, “Did it ever cross your mind we might like to listen
to the radio too?”

“Sir, I bought
this device with my own money because you didn’t like hearing the traffic
station, no matter how low I kept it. If you and Miss Hanson wish to listen to
music, need I remind you a radio exists right above your head.”

Carrie
detected Sam's resentment of abuse after saving their lives. She interrupted
Trent before he escalated the situation. “Okay, tickets remain for three
musicals, one political off-Broadway show with rave reviews, and the very funny
magician comedians, Tall and Tiny.”

He returned
his focus on her, slipping his left arm around the back of the seat while he
leaned closer, invading the little space she had. Her heart quickened. God, she
loved his scent. It made her feel
—
She shook her head.
Get a grip! He’s your boss and he wants to see a
Broadway show!
“Here’s the review blurbs for each.”

He leaned in
even closer, so his chest pressed against her arm. Her face warmed. Between her
near death experience and his cologne, her professional demeanor struggled.

You can do
this. He’s your boss and that’s all
. She breathed in deep, in an attempt to
steady her nerves. Unfortunately, she’d fail to account for the effects of a
lungful of Trent’s wonderful scent. God, he smelled good. She focused on the
reviews, needing to distract herself from his cologne. She smiled as she read
the comments for Tall and Tiny. It sounded so good. She wished she had the time
and money to see it.

Given Trent
began reading before her, he should have finished and made his decision by now.
She steeled herself and looked up at him. His gaze focused on her instead of
the screen.

“Do you want
to hold my iPad?” Carrie knew he hated when people treated him like a child.

A faint smile
touched his lips. “No, let’s do the last one.”

“Tall and
Tiny?”

He shrugged.

She tilted her
head. “If you don’t even know the name of the show, why do you want to see it?”

He smiled as
if he’d just done something very clever. “Because you do. I could see it in
your face.”

Why would what
she liked matter? Then a possible explanation came to her. “Do you want me to
go with you?”

He gently
tugged on a strand of her hair. “Hey, we just went through war together. We
both need a laugh.”

His unexpected
generosity shocked her. She felt like the egoistical sun had finally noticed inconsequential
Pluto still working hard to race around it.

“Um,
okay. Tall and Tiny it is. Do you want me to charge the tickets to my card?”

Say
no.
Please say no.

Her
credit card limit was maxed from Taiwan.

With amazingly
fast reflexes, he snatched her iPad. She tried to point where he needed to tap
the screen, but he slapped her hand away. “Let me do it.”

She sighed and
leaned back. He’d probably buy tickets for the women’s roller derby playing at Madison
Square Garden, but she’d put on a happy face and try to enjoy it.

“Done, now how
do I…Never mind, I found it. Where would you like to eat?”

She glanced at
her clothes. “Someplace dark, where they welcome casually dressed wrinkled tourists.”

He eyed her.
“You expect me to eat with tourists just because you’re disheveled?”

She grimaced.
Who in this century used the word ‘disheveled’? He no doubt picked it up from
his grandmother, who knew everything about proper dressing. “No. You should
drop me off at the nearest hotdog stand and I’ll wait on the street while you
eat.”

He jabbed
screen with his powerful fingers.

“My iPad is
not one of your slacker employees. You don’t have to smash it to make it work.”

He smiled and
softened his touch, but kept tapping.

What on
earth is he doing?

It shouldn’t
take this long to order tickets and make a reservation. She leaned over to see the
screen, but he shifted the iPad away from her view.

“Sam, take us
to 108 72nd street,” he ordered.

What’s at 108
72nd street?

She reached
out for her iPad, intending to discover what existed at that address, but Trent
laughed and set the device on the other side of him.

His crystal
blue eyes captured hers. “Trust me.”

She opened her
mouth to say ‘are you nuts?’ but then closed it. As crazy as it sounded, she
did trust him.

***

When the limo
pulled up to one of those outrageously expensive dress boutiques that catered
to the ultra-rich, Carrie shook her head back and forth like a broken bobble
head doll.

No way would
they allow her into this store. All she could foresee in the near future was
humiliation to the first degree.

When she made
no effort to get out, Trent unlatched her seat belt and reached across her to
open the door. “Did Sam break your arms driving like a crazy man?”

“Can we go to
Macy’s instead?” Her day had been bad enough. She really didn’t need to top it
off with a heaping pile of humiliation…in front of her boss, no less.

“No. We’re
going here. I’ve already picked out your dress. All you have to do is go inside
and change clothes. And stop shaking your head.” He tried to push her out of
the car, but she braced her arms against the frame of the door, refusing to
leave.

She expected
him to break into a tirade about why she couldn’t follow his simplest
instructions. Instead, he just sighed.

“Why are you
afraid of a dress store?”

God, he had to
think her a fruitcake. “I’m not afraid of dress stores. However, I have
personally seen women better dressed than I am escorted from a boutique because
they ‘polluted the ambiance.’”

The corner of
his mouth tugged, no doubt wishing to burst into laughter at her absurd excuse.
“I promise you, they will not throw you out of the store today.”

He probably
thought he could bully them into giving her respect, but he hadn’t met the ladies
who worked at these shops. She needed another excuse not to enter.

“I can’t
afford their clothes. Now can we please go to Macy’s?”

“No. The dress
I’ve bought resides here.”

Carrie turned
and faced him. “Trent, I don’t want you to buy my clothes!”

He smiled as
if he thought her protest silly. “I don’t mind. I buy women things all the
time, far more expensive than a dress.”

“But
I
mind. My boss shouldn’t buy me clothes.”

With a heavy
sigh, he shrugged. “Okay, you can pay for it.”

God! Why
couldn’t she get through to him?
“That’s my point. I probably can’t afford
a hair comb in this shop.”

He grimaced.
“Yeah, avoid those. One of them costs almost as much as my car.”

Finally, he
understood. While Trent had a distorted sense of value, at least he understood
a hair comb shouldn’t cost more than his car.

She clasped
her hands together in a beggar’s plea. “Can we please go to Macy’s?”

Trent would
have argued further, because he really wanted to buy something nice for Carrie,
but when she turned fire red, he realized his desire to have his way was making
her utterly miserable. “To Macy’s, Sam. Do you know where that is?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, because
I haven’t a clue.”

Carrie laughed
at his declaration.

Trent’s heart
sang at the sound. Carrie was happy again, and his world had never seemed quite
so right as it did now. Maybe he
could
have it all. Maybe his relationships
with other women hadn’t lasted because they weren’t anything like Carrie.

After Carrie
acquired a suitable dress and shoes at Macy’s, they returned to the limo.

The sales
people had impressed Trent, especially the young man who sold Carrie a lovely
pair of shoes. “So if I offered the shoe salesman a job at Lancaster with a
sixty thousand base salary and a graduating 3-10% commission, would that hit
our margins much?”

“Honestly?”

He never liked
responses beginning with ‘honestly,’ but he nodded anyway.

“It’s a
hundred times better than our current pay schedule for the sales people, and
Todd would probably make both Lancaster and himself wealthy with that offer.
However, such a scheme would legally bind you to allow the salesperson to keep
the customers they cultivate and Hal would not stand for that. Thus, you’ll end
up with a lawsuit for failing to comply with the contract you wrote, or have
the man in charge of 80% of your business leave the company and take all his
contacts with him.”

He slammed
back against the seat and crossed his arms in frustration. “I really liked the
kid.”

“Me too, and I
think he’s exactly what we need. I think you could get him, too. So let’s focus
on a different problem. How do we ensure our customers stay with us if Hal
walks?”

He smiled. Judging
by the lilt in her voice, she already had a solution, probably had it since her
first month when she discovered Hal confiscated all the lucrative contracts
from his underlings. However, Trent wanted to prove he could think on his feet,
so he threw out an idea first.

“You should
visit our customers. They’d love you on sight.”

She shook her
head. “Hal would object. However, if we visit customers for ideas how on to
improve our products, he'll probably insist it isn’t necessary, but since it’s
such a reasonable action, I don’t think he’ll threaten to quit over it.”