Misbehaving With The Millionaire. Kimberly LangЧитать онлайн книгу.
kept half an eye on Evie’s “yes” pile to be sure nothing violated the brief list of fashion taboos provided by Marcus and Will and spent the time brooding. Unfortunately she couldn’t find any answers or reasonable explanations for her behavior.
Sarah eventually turned Evie over to one of the Personal Shoppers with the excuse that Evie would need one in the future anyway, and tiptoed carefully through the colorful mess to Gwen’s sofa.
“The child can shop.” Sarah slid her feet out of their purple slingbacks and wiggled her toes in relief.
Gwen laughed. “That she can. I’m exhausted just watching.”
“She’s a natural. Great sense of style and an eye for what works. She’ll be a real trendsetter in a couple of years.”
“I’m just glad Parkline has a uniform, or else I’d be sitting here for days.”
Sarah chuckled. “All that’s really left is formal wear and she only needs one or two right now. Chris from Lingerie is on her way, so it should wind down after that. Out of curiosity, does she have a spending limit?”
Gwen watched as assistants slid Evie’s purchases into giant shopping bags. “I guess not. At least not that I was told.” Waving in the direction of the growing pile, she asked, “Do y’all deliver?”
“Looking at the commission Liza is about to earn off Evie, I’m sure she’ll work something out.”
“Thank goodness.”
Sarah handed her a bottle of water. “Speaking of work ing out, how’s everything going with the handsome-yet-infuriating Will Harrison?”
Oh, great. Exactly the conversation she didn’t want to have. “About the same. Evie called him on using his BlackBerry at the table last night.”
“She didn’t!”
“Oh, yes, she did. In front of Marcus Heatherton.”
Sarah’s jaw dropped. “You must have been dying.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“What’d he say?”
“Marcus or Will?”
“Will, silly. Like I care about what Pillar-of-Society Marcus Heatherton thinks.”
“Nothing actually. Evie’s remark kind of got lost in the whole temper fit she had, so I never heard him address it.”
“But after dinner, surely one of you said something.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks as the image of Will leaning toward her on the couch flashed in her mind. “Um…not really…um, we were talking about, um, other things.”
“Gwennie…” Sarah tucked her feet under her and leaned in. “You’re blushing. What aren’t you telling me?”
Her sister knew her too well. “I’m not telling you anything.”
“So there is something to tell.”
“I mean, I’m not not telling you anything. Or nothing. Or…you know what I mean.” Flustered, she unscrewed the top of her water bottle and took a long drink.
“Did you and Will…” Sarah glanced around quickly, but the assistants had moved on and Evie and her personal shopper were still chattering away in the dressing room. “Did you two, you know?”
“No!” Gwen’s ears were burning from the blush. She probably looked like an overripe tomato by now. “I barely know him, Sarah. Jeez. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“But something happened or else you wouldn’t be that attractive shade of red. Will made a play, then.”
“No.” Lord, was that tiny voice hers? “I mean, sorta. Maybe he did?” This was embarrassing.
“Ah.” Sarah got to use her all-knowing worldly-wise Big Sister Voice. “I’m going to assume there was no actual physical contact, right?”
Gwen nodded.
“But from the tone of your voice, it sounds like you wanted him to. Well? Do you, Gwennie?”
Exhausted from asking herself the same thing, Gwen gave up trying to fend off her sister’s questions and gave in to the desire to unload on someone. “Sometimes. Wait, let me finish,” she said as Sarah started to interrupt. “God knows the man is handsome and charming and enough to make any red-blooded woman lust after him. But developing a crush on Will would be bad. Bad for me. Bad for this job. Bad for my whole career, possibly.”
“But you never know. Maybe he’s getting a little crush on you, too.”
Gwen snorted. “Not likely. I simply train the Princesses—I don’t get Prince Charming.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
She spared another quick glance around. “We both know what happened the last time I got involved with my boss. I lost my job. I had to leave town, for God’s sake. I’m not stupid enough to make that same mistake twice.”
“No, you let David offer you up like a sacrificial lamb to save his own sorry skin and you slunk out of D.C. with your tail between your legs.”
“My reputation was shot. No one would have hired me after that fiasco.”
“That’s an exaggeration.” Sarah held up a hand to keep her from interrupting. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s over and done with and you’ve established yourself here. You’re older and wiser and you have a sterling reputation. I don’t see any reason why you can’t explore a possible romantic relationship with an attractive man—”
“Whom I just happen to work for?” Had Sarah lost her mind completely this time?
“This is a bit different. David was your boss. Will Harrison is your client.”
“You’re splitting hairs. And any way you look at it, it still leads to the same disastrous end.” Gwen closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I just need to start dating again. Got anyone in mind?”
“You mean other than Will?” she smirked.
“Sarah, please.”
“I’ll think about it. Meanwhile—”
A flash of ice-blue caught her eye and she turned. “Evie!” How long had she been standing there? She searched Evie’s face for a sign she’d overhead their whispered conversation, but Evie seemed to be fully focused on twirling in front of the mirror.
Sarah shot her a look that said the conversation wasn’t over, and Gwen made a mental note to screen her calls for the next few days. She had enough on her plate without adding Sarah’s overromanticized matchmaking.
But Sarah was right about one thing. She wasn’t the same naive girl she was five years ago. Last night’s odd moment with Will could be—would have to be—forgotten. She’d just needed a reminder of how far she’d come.
Will knew he should be more concerned about the fact Nancy was ill and less irritated because it threw his life into disarray, but it was increasingly hard to do so when the temp sent up from HR was next to worthless. Maybe “worthless” was too harsh of a word; Nancy spoiled him with her efficiency and her ability to know what he needed without him having to spell it out. The only task the temp, Jenni, managed to complete in the last five hours was ordering flowers for Nancy. Everything else lay in various stages of completion on her desk.
He sincerely hoped Nancy got well quickly, because, damn it, he wanted his secretary back.
Now Jenni wasn’t answering her intercom. This was ridiculous. Cursing, he made a list of everything that absolutely had to be done today, carried it to Nancy’s desk and stuck it to the computer screen. When Jenni came back from wherever the hell she’d disappeared to, she’d