Who’s the Boss?

“Ms. Taylor,” the mortgage officer said in her ear, “you can’t expect this company to believe that you’ll be able to make the payments, given your current salary. Not to mention how far behind you are already. I’m sorry, but the lock-out will take place on Friday evening, unless you come up with something else.”

Lock out.

As in a huge padlock on her front door. She would have no place to go. “You’re going to put me out on the street because you don’t like my job?”

Joe, already across the office and halfway out the door, froze. Mortified, Caitlin lowered her voice and her head. “You can’t do this,” she told the jerk on the line. “You can’t. My father-”

“Is dead,” the man said bluntly. “And hasn’t provided any means for paying the mortgage. You have no experience, no credits to your name and no viable means of providing us what is due, Ms. Taylor. You can’t possibly blame us for this situation.”

“What can I do to prove myself?” she asked, more than a little desperately. What had happened to her great life? To security? To a full stomach?

“Marry a rich man,” he advised. “Quickly.”

Floored, she hung up the phone and stared at it. She’d mistakenly thought her life was starting to be under control. But it wasn’t even close, she realized, and dropped her head down to her desk.

What could she do?

Hand still on the office door, Joe stared at Caitlin’s bowed head. Her full hair fell forward, exposing her pale, soft neck. She seemed small, vulnerable. Dammit, no. No, he told himself firmly.

You aren’t going to worry about her.

But he let go of the door. Of their own accord, his feet took him to her desk. Not his problem, absolutely not. Run, don’t walk, to the nearest exit. He perched a hip on the corner of her desk. This has nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with his promise to Edmund. He’d gone over and above the call of duty so far. Anyone would think so.

Anyone.

Instead of running, he heard himself say, “Caitlin? What’s the matter?”

She jerked upright, flashed him a smile minus her usual megawattage and said with false cheer, “Nothing. Everything’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

“You’re out of money.”

“Nothing new.”

“You’re going to lose your place.”

Her shoulders sagged. Her smile faded, and in its place came a disturbing helplessness. “It’s not mine anyway.”

So many emotions attacked him then, he couldn’t think straight enough to sort them out from each other. But leading the way was guilt-guilt because Edmund had taken care of him, a punk kid with no future, yet he’d ignored his own daughter.

Despite how Joe felt about her, and how he didn’t want to feel about her, she didn’t deserve this. Anger bubbled. Anger at Edmund, anger for Caitlin and anger for himself at being left to deal with the mess.

He was distinctly uncomfortable cleaning up the messes other people made of their lives. He’d done it for his mother. He’d done it for his siblings. He’d done it for countless “friends” over the years who’d assumed that because of what he did for a living, he had an overabundance of money.

He didn’t want to do it anymore. “I can help.”

“No.” Abruptly, Caitlin got up. “I need to walk,” she said, slipping off her high-heeled sandals, replacing them with running shoes. Joe watched, fascinated and mesmerized, as her dress gaped and revealed soft, full, plump breasts rebelling against their constraints.

He was a jerk, he thought, staring down her dress when she was undergoing a crisis. He told himself this quite firmly. But he didn’t-couldn’t-stop looking.

When she grabbed her purse, he stopped her, pulled her back. Their thighs touched, but it no longer startled him to feel that inexplicable heat in his body. “Caitlin.”

“No,” she said quickly, trying to pull back. For once, her eyes didn’t give her away. “No pity, remember?”

“I already told you,” he said, lying only a little. “You’re too prickly to feel sorry for.”

“I’m prickly?” She laughed a little. “Right.”

“Let me help,” he said rashly, having no idea why the words popped out. “I want to.”

“Why?”

Because already I can’t stop thinking about you, and if I have to be worried on top of being distracted all to hell, I’ll never get any peace. “Because you need it, dammit. Because your life is out of control, and you need help. I can supply that help. It’s that simple.”

She stared at him for a long moment, and he could have sworn she was waiting for something, something more. Her lovely dark eyes searched his, but he was still befuddled by the view she’d just given him, and by touching her, and he didn’t know what else she could possibly want.

Finally, she turned away, but not before he saw her expression fall a little. “Thanks, but you’ve helped me enough. More than enough. Be back after lunch.” She ran out the door.

He watched her go, remorse and lust gnawing equally at his gut.

CAITLIN FOUND HERSELF in the lobby, aimless.

“Hey, there.”

She mustered a smile for Amy, who leaned over her food stand with a friendly smile that faded quickly enough at the expression on Caitlin’s face.

“Uh oh, you’ve got the face on.” Silently, Amy turned and grabbed a plate.

“What face?”

Amy bustled a moment, then turned with a heaping serving of cinnamon crumb cake. “The kind that is crying out for food. Preferably junk food, the more fattening the better.”

Caitlin had to laugh. “Yeah, it’s been that kinda day.”

“Hmm, no kidding. Tell me.”

“You tell me first,” Caitlin urged, needing to hear about someone and something other than herself and her own troubles.

“Okay. My first customer of the day hits on me every morning despite the fact that I am madly in lust with the UPS guy. The UPS guy, who by the way is the most fab man on the planet, doesn’t know I exist. My supplies were late and so was my alimony check, which means I am now late making my rent.”

Caitlin hummed her complete understanding and nodded, encouraging Amy to continue because suddenly her own problems didn’t seem so major.

“And if I’m late on my rent, it goes on my credit, and if I get bad credit, I can’t buy a new car at the end of the year like I promised myself.” She shrugged. “That about sums it up for today,” Amy said. “Now you.”

“Okay, my boss thinks I’m a helpless idiot. His best friend is falling for me and I don’t want to hurt him. And…I think I’m falling for my boss.”

“The one that thinks you’re a helpless idiot.”

“Yeah.” She could have complained about the condo and the car. Or about her serious and frightening lack of money, but strangely enough, that stuff didn’t matter as much.

“I like being my own boss,” Amy said into their companionable silence. “And you couldn’t hurt anyone if you tried, Caitlin. You’re too kind.”

“I- That’s a very generous thing to say.” Caitlin’s throat tightened at the look of utter sincerity on Amy’s face. “But you don’t really know me.”

“I think I do.”

Hot tea came next, and Caitlin found herself being pampered by nothing but the best crumb cake she’d ever sampled and an even better friendship.

“You know,” she mumbled around a huge, heavenly biteful, “I’ve been everywhere in this world. I’ve eaten at the most amazing places.” She smiled at Amy’s curious face. “But nothing has tasted as good as this.”

“Well, I haven’t been anywhere, other than Los Angeles, but that doesn’t really count ’cause it’s just in the next