A few minutes later, she tapped on his door, a steaming mug in hand.
Come in.
She was about to open the door when a tall woman in a tight, stark white dress came striding down the hall. She had an elegant face with a models bored expression. Her tumble of jet-black hair reached nearly to her waist, and her breasts were one deep breath away from popping out of the low neckline.
Platform white suede boots completed the outfit.
Good Lord. She was beautifulif you liked silicone, Botox and hair extensions.
The woman tried to brush right past Jillian and into Conners office, but Jillian turned and blocked her path. Can I help you?
Who are you? the woman asked, frowning.
Im Jillian, Mr. Blakes assistant.
Oh. Good luck with that. The first thing you should know is, hes always in for me. Im Chandra Mayall. She waited a beat for Jillian to recognize the name. The CEOs granddaughter? Taking advantage of Jillians surprise, Chandra took the cup of coffee from her. Ill deliver this to him. Run along, now.
* * *
CHANDRA. TO WHAT DO I owe the pleasure? Inside, Conner cringed. His ex-wife showing up in person was never good news.
She handed him a mug of hot coffee. Just the way you like it.
He took a sip. It was hot, strong and sweet. You didnt pour this for me. Which meant his new admin had done it. Too bad her job required a bit more than an ability to pour coffee.
Chandra shrugged one elegant shoulder. Your new girl was about to bring it in. Plucky little thing, and protective. She was guarding your door like a pit bull, almost didnt let me in.
Another point in the womans favor. Im kind of busy. What do you want?
I need a new roof. Its going to cost six thousand dollars.
Really. I thought that house had a new roof put on right before you bought it.
Hail damage.
Have you filed an insurance claim?
Oh, you know how they are. They give you this big runaround, and the roof is leaking into the dining room. It has to be fixed now.
So because you dont want to make a phone call, Im out six thousand dollars? I dont think so. Ill call the insurance company. Then I want you to get at least two estimates.
Couldnt you just write the check now, and well work out the details later?
No. Nice try.
Our decree says you have to pay for necessary home repairs.
And Ill write a check directly to the roofer. Now, is there anything else?
She debated a few moments before leaning on his desk, giving him an eyeful of cleavage. Conner, Im desperate. Its my butt.
Wh Excuse me? That got his attention.
Its fallen. Im going to Cancun over Christmas, and I tried on my bikini this morning and my butt looks atrocious. It needs a lift.
Conner laughed. Are you out of your mind? Im not paying for your plastic surgery. Besides, if you keep going under the knife, youre going to end up looking like a freak.
Conner. Its not funny.
No, Chandra. Not a chance.
She seemed to deflate. It was worth a shot. Guess Ill have to do more Pilates.
He softened his voice. Hows Stan? Whenever Chandra was sad or worried, she turned to fixing herself as her own brand of therapy. She was obviously upset about her grandfathers situation.
Hes terrible, Conner. Im so afraid. I wish there was something more we could do. The lawyer thinks no jury will convict him. But his health
I know. Hes a tough old bird, though. Hell pull through.
He better. Im not ready for him to go.
Chandra might be shallow and self-absorbed, but one thing Conner was sure ofshe loved her grandfather. He summoned a smile for her, then stood and walked her to the door. Your butt looks fine, you know.
She sighed. How would you know? You dont even look at my butt anymore. She air kissed him. Ciao, darling. When she opened the door, Ham was standing outside, just about to knock.
Oh, hi, Chandra. You look stunning, as usual.
Arent you a sweetie. She gave him an air kiss, too. Give my best to Beatrice. Both men watched her strut toward the elevators.
Ham shook his head. Tell me again why you divorced her?
Conner laughed. You know why. They both stepped back into his office.
Ham used to drop into Conners office almost every morning with a new joke or a funny story about his wife. Conner had enjoyed their conversations. But ever since Ham had taken over Stans job, he seemed rushed and harried. With two jobs to perform, he had no time for idle chitchat.
He must really need that report. Im working on the report today, I swear.
I didnt come here to harass you. Hows the new secretary working out? Ham asked as he eased himself into his favorite wingback chair. Is she as useless as she looks?
She can pour coffee, at least. Conner took a sip from his mug. It was cooling off. I dont understand why Joyce keeps pitching these pretty bits of empty-headed fluff at me, expecting things to work out.
This one was worse than all the others put together.
What was her name again? Ham asked. Hilary, Julia
Something like that. Joyce claims this one has impeccable credentialsshe was an assistant to some oil company exec. But I could tell with one look shes never worked a hard day in her life.
You need someone with brains and maturity.
Or at least one who wears sensible shoes, Conner grumbled.
Why didnt Joyce promote someone from within the company? At least she would know something about the lumber business.
Conner raised an eyebrow. Oddly, not a single employee applied for the opening.
Ham laughed. Whose fault is that? Your reputation has spread far and wide.
Im not that bad. I just have a low tolerance for stupidity. He stood and stretched, then walked to the far end of his office to gaze at one of his favorite paintings, a forest scene by a Russian artist. How does she keep from breaking an ankle, tottering around on those ridiculous shoes? Those stilettos made her legs look a mile long, but that shouldnt be the aim in a work situation.
It wasnt just her shoes. The suit shed worn that first day had cost more than his, he was pretty sure. Three years of marriage to Chandranot to mention growing up with his motherhad taught him to recognize Chanel when he saw it. Then there was the haircut. Hilary-Juliawhatever hadnt gotten that style, or the subtle blond streaks, from a strip mall beauty shop. He pictured her lying back in a fancy salon chair while someone named Marcel shampooed her hair, digging his fingers into the thick, mock-gold strands, her head tipped back, creamy throat exposed.
Good God, where had that come from? Hed been too long without a woman, he supposed, but not many women wanted to spend time with him these days. He was too surly, too impatient.
Give the girl a chance, Ham said.
I give her three days. Shell either prove herself completely incompetent, or do something so thoroughly boneheaded that Ill be forced to fire her. He sighed. I hope this one doesnt cry.
Of course shell cry. They all cry. Besides, youre a beast.
Of course shell cry. They all cry. Besides, youre a beast.
Id be a lot nicer if I could get out of this damned office once in a while.
Back to your beloved trees.
Yeah. God, he missed the trees. At night Conner dreamed about the forest, imagined himself in a hammock slung between two ancient tree trunks, the stillness and utter darkness all around him punctuated only by the periodic chatter or cry of nocturnal creatures. And during the day, he plotted how he would get back there.
Well, I can help with that, Ham said, coming to stand beside Conner and gaze at the painting. Theres a forest sustainability conference in Jakarta next month. I want you to go.
Obviously Ham expected Conner to be pleased about the junket. But trading in his office for a hotel conference room wasnt high on his priority list.
Im not sure I can afford to take time away, Conner said. This situation with Stan
Its just three days, and its vital that Mayall Lumber attend. You should also check on Will Nashiki while youre there, see how hes coming along with the job in North Sumatra.
A couple of days in the Sumatran rainforest? Conner could feel a grin spreading across his face. Why didnt you say that to begin with? Of course Ill go. Maybe, just maybe, things would be more settled by next month and he could stay in the field longer than a weekend. Nashiki would appreciate a chance to go home, spend time with his family. If youre sure you can spare me.
Itll be tough, but Ill manage, Ham said, tongue firmly in cheek. He checked his watch and frowned. Late for another damn meeting. I never realized how many meetings a CEO has to go to. He limped toward the door, leaning heavily on his cane.
The new girl walked in as Ham left. Good morning, Mr. Payne. She held the door open for him.
Ham gave her a dismissive wave.
Yes? Conner asked brusquely as he returned to his desk. His office was Grand Central Station this morning.
What else would you like me to do? How about if I start organizing in here?
No. The single syllable came out more harshly than he intended. Youre not to touch anything on my desk. Please, he added grudgingly. It might look disorganized to you, but I have my own system.
Of course, she said agreeably.
Im kind of busy here. He shuffled a few papers.
Are you sure I cant help? Im good with figures.
This is a little more complex than keeping your checkbook register up to date. If she even had a checkbook. She probably used plastic for everything, then had the bills delivered to Daddy.
Im proficient in all of the most widely used accounting and budgeting software. At my previous job, I assisted an executive in the accounting department of a midsize oil company.
He looked up. What happened?
Sir? She flashed him a puzzled look.
Why arent you working there anymore?
Oh. Philosophical differences. As I became more ecologically aware, I realized I could no longer support my employers policies. Im a proponent of renewable energy.
A well-rehearsed speech, he guessed, crafted to hide the real reason shed been canned. Nonetheless, it piqued his interest. She didnt look green to him. The women he knew who were environmental activists tended toward thrift-store clothes, Birkenstocks and no makeup.
He decided to challenge her. Why a lumber company? We rape the land, too.
Mayall Lumber has one of the most ecologically responsible reputations in the industry, she promptly replied. The company is committed to responsible harvesting practices, and it even commits significant resources into saving the old-growth forests that support endangered species, such as the spotted owl and the orangutan. Also, the company has an extensive program for converting waste products into biomass fuel, reducing the worlds carbon emissions.
She could have gotten most of that information off the web, but none of his other admins had bothered. Now he was impressed. He studied her with renewed curiosity. Shed dressed down today, he was relieved to see, though even in casual pants, she appeared quite well put together. The deceptively plain pants were still top quality, probably tailored to fit her long, lean physique. She could easily have walked off the pages of Vogue.
You like orangutans, do you? he asked.
Ive never met one personally, she admitted.
He gathered up the sea of papers on his desk into one giant pile, picked it up and handed it to her. See if you can make sense of this. I have to put together a report that shows the dollar amount spent on conservation efforts as a percentage of the gross profits from harvests in the European Union over the past three years.
That ought to keep her busy for a while. And out of his hair. She was one powerful distraction, all long, coltish limbs and svelte curves his palms itched to explore.
Yes, Mr. Blake.
And, um, you can call me Conner. Were not that formal around here.
Very well, Conner.
And what do you prefer to be called? He still hadnt remembered her name.
Jillian is fine. I dont like having my name shortened. She sashayed out of his office, her arms loaded with paper, and suddenly he realized she reminded him of someonefrom a long time ago.
* * *
JILLIAN HAD TAKEN ADVANTAGE of a few quiet minutes to do an internet search on the forbidden reporter mentioned in the memo shed seen in Joyces office. Mark Bowen was easy to find. Shed assumed he would be someone trying to dig up dirt on the murder, or Stan Mayalls arrest. But he wasnt a crime reporter, he was a business writer for some lumber trade magazine. She found a picture of him: in his thirties, kind of a scrawny guy but pleasant looking, in a nerdy sort of way.
He probably had nothing to do with the murder. Jillian debated whether to contact him or not, then decided in this instance she would heed Daniels orders. She wasnt confident enough to confront a reporter who could write something about her and get her in heaps of trouble.
Besides, her stomach was grumbling. She shouldnt have skipped breakfast.
The small office cafeteria reminded Jillian way too much of the one from her high school. As she pushed her tray along the line and selected a carton of yogurt and an apple, she checked out the tables behind her from the corner of her eye. They all seemed to be occupied by tight groups of people, mostly women. She saw no executive types. They probably went out to one of the many nice restaurants in this neighborhood, or had food delivered.
Her plan was to pay for her food, then boldly set her tray down at a table of women and introduce herself. How else would she get to know more people here?
But in the end, she just couldnt do it. She had too many memories of trying to make friends her freshman year in high school.
That seats taken.
We dont let losers sit with us.
The pig trough is that way.
Adolescent girls could be particularly cruel, and the cliques at her exclusive private school had been worse than most.
Eventually shed made friendsswim team girls, mostly. But the popular girls had always ignored her, and after the terrible prank Conner had perpetrated on her, they had actively tormented her. Even the boys had teased her until she cried.