Daring to Trust the Boss. Susan MeierЧитать онлайн книгу.
she faced Cindy, and asked, “Are you ready for school?” he was certain of it.
“I may never be totally ready.” Cindy grabbed a different carton of the food and dished herself a serving. “Billy made the football team.”
Olivia spun to face him. “Oh, my gosh! Shouldn’t you be at practice?”
Billy scowled.
Loraina said, “You can miss a practice or two. It’s not every day you get to see New York City.”
Ignoring Billy’s plight, Cindy said, “I was sort of hoping you’d take me shopping.”
Olivia laughed gaily. “Me? I can just barely dress myself. If you want expert advice, you need to take Eloise with you.”
Jim said, “I don’t think there’s time for shopping.”
Billy said, “You can shop at home.”
Loraina agreed. “You get better bargains there anyway. I saw designers on TV the other day showing how to make clothes from your local store look like big-city fashions.”
“I don’t want them to look like big-city fashions. I want them to be big-city fashions. Can’t we stay another day?”
Billy exploded. “No! I’m missing two practices already! I’m not missing three!”
“You and your precious football.”
“You and your precious clothes! At least some day football might get me a scholarship. What are clothes going to get you?”
“A boyfriend?”
“You don’t need a boyfriend!”
Both parents said that at once and might have made Tucker laugh, except Cindy’s next whine started a discussion that had all five Prentisses talking at once. Tucker had been in boardrooms where five people talked at once. He’d been in boardrooms where five people yelled at once. But this discussion—sort of stupid, but very important to the people talking—whipped around him like a tornado. He had absolutely no idea of what to say.
Worse, he didn’t think they cared or wanted him to say anything.
A feeling of alienation stole over him, which didn’t surprise him. In foster homes, you didn’t comment on another kid’s life or problems. You weren’t really family; you were boarders. He remembered falling asleep trying to imagine himself in a family like this and never quite being able to put himself into the picture. He couldn’t put himself in this picture either. Even though he was actually, physically here.
Olivia’s laugh penetrated his discomfort and he glanced from the arguing teens to Jim to Loraina who groaned and said things like “Settle down” and “If you don’t stop fighting nobody’s getting anything.”
He peeked at Olivia again. Her pretty face relaxed in her laughter.
Now she was happy and he was the one who felt like an outsider.
* * *
Olivia had never been so glad to see an elevator door open and take people away as she was to see her parents and siblings leave Tucker Engle’s office. He made good on his promise of his limo for their use that afternoon, but he’d been quiet through their lunch.
“Do you want me to go back to reviewing Bartulocci financials this afternoon?”
“Yes.”
He said the word while staring at the elevator that had just taken away her family and his limo driver.
A minute ticked off the clock. Then another. Then another. He just kept staring at that elevator.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
But Olivia didn’t think he was. Normally, he was a tad brisk. Formal. Even with Elias and Ricky from the start-up, two guys who considered him a friend, he’d been formal. She didn’t like this sullen side of him. “I want to apologize again for my family.”
“Your family is very nice.”
She winced. “My brother and sister fight all the time.”
He turned away from the elevator and headed to his office. “I’ve heard that’s normal for brothers and sisters.”
She scrambled after him. If this mood was the fault of her family, she had to help him get rid of it. “Heard?”
“I don’t have any brothers and sisters.”
He strode to his desk and bent down to retrieve a briefcase from the floor. He stopped so quickly, bent so quickly and rose so quickly, that Olivia didn’t have time to get out of his way. When he stood again, they were mere inches apart.
She caught his gaze. She could smell the vague scent of his aftershave, feel the raw maleness that drifted off him. After being attacked, she hadn’t often let herself get close to a man. Especially not someone as far out of her league as the town rich kid had been—as Tucker Engle was.
But he was so handsome and she couldn’t seem to step away, or break contact with his beautiful emerald eyes.
When she spoke. her voice was a mere whisper. “You’re an only child?”
“You could say that.”
Though they were talking about something totally innocent, electricity crackled between them. “You don’t know if you’re an only child?”
“No.” He took a long breath. “I’m a foster child.”
“Oh.”
He stepped away. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m fine.”
“Yes, of course.”
He walked around her and strode to the door. “This meeting shouldn’t last more than an hour.”
With that he was gone and Olivia let out her breath in a grand whoosh. A foster child? Her heart ripped in two. Not because he wanted her to feel sorry for him, but because he didn’t.
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