Playing Mr. Right. Kat CantrellЧитать онлайн книгу.
That stung, but Xavier didn’t let it show. He never did. He’d learned to school his emotions at Edward LeBlanc’s knee from an early age. CEOs didn’t wear their hearts on their sleeves or they lost the respect of their workers. That lesson had served him well—until his father had upended everything in one fell swoop.
“This is not my fault,” Xavier responded evenly, though Val’s point wasn’t lost on him. Marjorie. Again. He wouldn’t put it past her to have poisoned the well of potential applicants, but there was no way to fix that now. “If you’re going to blame anyone, blame Dad.”
Val’s expression didn’t change as he waved the résumé. “We should interview this candidate. What other choice do you have? No one says you have to keep her if she doesn’t work out.”
“Fine.”
Xavier picked up the phone and left a message at the number listed on the résumé. He didn’t have time to argue the point or let his feelings get in a twist because Val was throwing his weight around. This was all temporary, and as Val had so eloquently pointed out, he’d be back in the saddle again soon, anyway. Little that Xavier did would make a difference in the long run.
Since they didn’t have much regarding Marjorie’s replacement to meet about, after all, Val apparently thought that was a license to ask a few barbed questions about how things were going operationally at LBC. They were interrupted by a brisk knock on the door.
Adelaide, the admin who had been a disciple of Marjorie’s, poked her head into the office with a sweet smile for Val. If he hadn’t seen it himself, Xavier wouldn’t have believed she knew how to smile.
“There’s a Laurel Dixon here to see you,” she said. “About the position.”
Xavier had called her less than thirty minutes ago and he’d said nothing about coming by. Only that he’d like to schedule an interview.
“No notice,” he said quietly to Val. “That’s a little bold, don’t you think?”
It tripped his sixth sense and not in a good way. Downtown Chicago was not known for having great traffic patterns, so either she lived really close by or had already been on her way here.
Val raised his brows in challenge. “I’m already impressed. That’s the kind of go-getting I like.”
Of course he’d say that and manage to make it sound like Xavier was in the wrong at the same time. “I’d rather send her away and schedule a real interview. After I’ve had time to go over her qualifications.”
“She’s here.” Val shrugged. “What’s there to go over? If you’re unsure, I’ll do the talking.”
“I can talk,” Xavier fairly growled. “I just don’t like surprises.”
Or anyone stepping on his toes, which was what he got for stupidly mentioning to his brother that Marjorie’s exodus had caught him sideways. Val had taken full advantage of that show of weakness, too, storming in here like a victorious hero and earning adoring glances from his staff.
Val just grinned and flipped hair out of his face in true slacker fashion. “I’m aware. Don’t sweat it. I came by to handle this problem. Let me handle it.”
When hell froze over. “We’ll both interview her. Adelaide, show her in.”
Val didn’t even bother to move to another chair like a normal person would. You positioned yourself behind the desk as a show of authority. Val probably didn’t even know how to spell authority. That’s why his staff loved him, because he treated them all like equals. Except everyone was not equal. Someone had to be in charge, make the hard decisions.
And that person was Xavier, for better or worse. Val could step aside. This was still Xavier’s office for three more months.
Laurel Dixon walked into the room and Xavier forgot about Val, LBC...his own name. Everything else in the world went dim. Except for her.
The woman following Adelaide looked nothing like Marjorie, that was for sure. She looked nothing like any woman Xavier had ever met. Long, lush sable-colored hair hung down her back, but that only held his attention for a split second. Her face was arresting, with piercing silvery-gray eyes that locked onto his and wouldn’t let go.
Something otherworldly passed between them and it was so fanciful a feeling that Xavier shook it off instantly. He didn’t do otherworldly, whatever the hell that even meant. Never had he used such a term in his life to describe anything. But nothing else fit, and that made the whole encounter suspect. Besides, it was ridiculous to have any sort of reaction to a woman outside of desire, and even that was rarely strong enough for Xavier to note. Most, if not all, of his encounters with females could be described as mildly pleasurable, at best.
This woman had trouble written all over her if she could elicit such a response by merely walking into a room.
Coupled with the fact that she’d shown up without an appointment—Laurel Dixon raised his hackles about ten degrees past uncomfortable.
“Ms. Dixon.” Val stood and offered his hand. “I’m Valentino LeBlanc, the director of LBC.”
“Mr. LeBlanc. Very nice to meet you,” she said, her clean voice vibrating across Xavier’s skin with a force he couldn’t shake.
He’d have said he preferred sultry voices. Sexy ones that purred when aroused. Laurel Dixon’s voice could never be described as carnal, but that didn’t seem to matter. He instantly wanted to hear it again. It was the kind of voice he could listen to for an hour and never get bored.
This was supposed to be an interview. Not a seduction. Actually, he’d never been seduced before, at least, not that he could recall. Usually he was the one making all the moves and he wasn’t all that keen to be on the receiving end with a woman who wasn’t even supposed to be here.
“Xavier LeBlanc,” he announced and cleared his inexplicably ragged throat. “Current director of LBC. Val is just passing through.”
She flicked her attention from Val to Xavier. This was the part where he had to stand and stick his hand out. Laurel Dixon clasped it, and when no lightning bolts forked between them, he relaxed an iota. That’s when he made the mistake of letting his gaze rest on her lips. They curved up into a smile and that kicked him in the gut so hard, he felt it in his toes. Yanking his hand free, he sank back into his chair, wondering when, exactly, he’d lost his marbles.
“Two for the price of one,” she said with a laugh that was just as arresting as her face. “I applaud the fact that you have such different hairstyles. Makes it easier to tell you apart.”
Automatically he ran a hand over his closely cropped hair. He wore it that way because it looked professional. The style suited him and the fact that Val’s too-long hair marked him as the rebel twin only worked in Xavier’s favor. “Val gets lost on the way to the barber.”
Despite the fact that he hadn’t meant it as a joke, that made her laugh again, which pretty much solidified his resolve to stop talking. The less she laughed like that, the better.
“We weren’t expecting you,” Val said conversationally and indicated the seat next to him, then waited until Laurel slid into it before taking his own. “Though we’re impressed with your enthusiasm. Right, Xavier?”
Figured that the second after he’d vowed to shut his mouth, Val dragged him right back into the conversation.
“That’s one way to put it,” he muttered. “I would have liked to schedule an interview.”
“Oh, well, of course that would have been the appropriate thing to do,” she admitted with an eye roll that shouldn’t have been as appealing as it was. “But I’m so very interested in the job that I didn’t want to leave anything to chance. So I thought, why wait?”
Why, indeed? “What about directing a food pantry excites you so much?”
“Oh,