change in the renovation project, one of the administrative assistants had introduced her around and offered to help out.
Kaitlin inhaled the moist May air. Fat raindrops were splashing on the concrete steps, forming puddles and rivulets on the pavement below. She glanced at the gray sky and gauged the distance to the subway staircase in the next block. She wished she’d checked the weather report this morning and tossed an umbrella into her bag.
“I trust you found everything you need?” Zach’s deep voice held a mocking edge behind her.
Kaitlin twisted, taking in his towering height and strong profile against the backdrop of his historic building. She was forced to remind herself that she was in the driver’s seat in this circumstance. She should make him nervous, not the other way around.
“Could you have found me a smaller office?” she asked, attempting to go on the offensive. He was obviously making some kind of a point by relegating her to a closet. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was attempting to put her in her place.
“Haven’t you heard?” His mouth flexed in a cool half smile, confirming her suspicions. “We’re renovating.”
“I notice
“That’s because I own the company.” His expression hinted that he also owned a decent portion of the world.
She arched a meaningful brow in his direction, feeling a little more in control when his expression wavered. “So do I,” she pointed out.
Her victory was short-lived.
“You want me to evict a vice president for you?” Left unsaid was the understanding that while he could easily give her special treatment, they both knew it would raise questions amongst the staff, potentially compromising her desire to keep their personal relationship a secret.
“You have nothing between the executive floor and a closet?” Of course, the last thing she wanted to do was call attention to herself. He had to treat her no better and no worse than any other employee. Right now, it certainly appeared he was treating her worse.
“Take your pick,” Zach offered with a careless shrug. “I’ll kick someone out.”
Kaitlin hiked up her shoulder bag. “And they’ll know it’s me.”
“You do own the company,” he drawled.
She rolled her eyes. “Just treat me like you would anyone else.”
“That seems unlikely.” He nodded to a shiny, black late-model town car cruising up to the curb. “Can I give you a lift?”
She slid him an incredulous glance. He had to be kidding.
“Hop into the boss’s car after my first day of work?” Right. That would work well to keep her under the radar.
“You afraid people will get the wrong idea?”
“I’m afraid they’ll get the right idea.”
His mouth quirked again. “I have some papers you need to sign.”
The rain wasn’t letting up, but she took a tentative step forward, muttering under her breath. “No divorce yet, Mr. Harper.”
He stepped into the rain beside her, keeping pace, his voice going low as hers. “They’re not divorce papers, Mrs. Harper.”
The title on his lips gave her a jolt. She’d spent the day trying to forget about their circumstances and focus on getting started at her job. But she was beginning to realize forgetting their circumstances was going to be nearly impossible.
They were married,
She tipped her head, surreptitiously taking in his profile, the dark eyes, the furrowed brow and the small scar on his right cheekbone. She tried to imagine an intimate relationship, where they joked and touched and-
“Kaitlin?”
She gave herself a firm mental shake, telling herself to get control. “What kind of papers?”
He glanced around, obviously confirming a sufficient buffer of space between them and the other Harper employees heading out the doors. “Confirmation of my positions as the president and CEO.”
“What are you now?”
“President and CEO.” His gunmetal eyes were as dark and impenetrable as the storm clouds. He was not a man who easily gave away his emotions. “There’s been a change in the company ownership,” he explained.
It took a moment for the enormity of his words to sink in. Without her signature, his position in the company was in jeopardy. He couldn’t do what he’d always done, and he couldn’t be who he’d always been, without her consent on paper.
Something hard and cold slid though her stomach.
It wasn’t right that she had this kind of power. All she wanted was to do her job. She didn’t want to have to sift through her confusing feelings for Zach. And she sure didn’t want to have to analyze the circumstances and decide if they were fair.
They weren’t. But then neither was the alternative.
“Get in the car, Kaitlin,” he told her. “We need to get this signed and settled.”
She couldn’t help but note the stream of employees exiting from the building. Even as they dashed down the rainy steps, most of them glanced curiously at Zach. Climbing into his car in full view of a dozen coworkers was out of the question.
She leaned slightly closer, muffling her voice. “Pick me up on Grove, past the bus stop.”
He gave a subtle but unmistakable eye roll. “You don’t think that’s a bit cloak-and-dagger?”
“I’m trying to blend,” she reminded him. Her plan to rescue her career would come to a screeching halt if people had any inkling that she had some leverage over Zach.
“You’ll get soaked,” he warned her.
A little water was the least of her worries.
Well, except for what it would do to her shoes. They’d been on sale, her only pair of Strantas. She loved what they did for her legs, and they looked great with anything black.
She braced herself, mentally plotting a path around the worst of the scattered puddles.
“Have a nice evening, Mr. Harper,” she called loud enough for passersby to hear as she trotted down the stairs.
She made her way along the sidewalk, surging with the crowd toward the traffic light at the corner. When it turned green, she paced across the street, avoiding numerous black umbrellas in her path and hopping over the gurgle of water flowing against the opposite curb.
On the other side, she negotiated her way to the edge of the sidewalk, raking her wet hair back from her forehead and tucking it behind her ears. She swiped a few raindrops from her nose then extracted her cell phone, pressing the speed dial as she hustled toward the bus stop shelter.
“Kaitlin?” came Lindsay’s breathless voice.
“What are you doing?”
“Riding the bike.”
Kaitlin pictured Lindsay on the stationary bike crammed into the small living space of her loft. “I’m going to be late for dinner.”
“What’s going on?” Lindsay huffed.
As she wove her way through the wet crowd, Kaitlin lowered her voice to mock doom. “I’m about to get into a big black car with Zach Harper.”
“Better send me the license plate number.”
Kaitlin cracked a grin, comforted by Lindsay’s familiar sense of humor. The two women had known each other so long, they were almost always on the same wavelength. “I’ll text it to you.”
A deep, classic-rock bass resonated in the background. A fixture whenever Lindsay exercised. “Why are you getting in his car?”
“He wants me to sign something.”
