What would you do if you were mine?
The question caught her off guard while her brain zipped off on a disorienting, romantic tangent. To be Tucks. In his arms. In his life. In his bed.
Sorry? She scrambled to bring her thoughts back to the real world.
If you were my confidential assistant, what would you do?
Im not. She wasnt his anything, and she had to remember that.
But if you were?
If she were Tucks assistant, shed be in the middle of making one colossal mistake. Eventually, she would kiss her boss. She was thinking about it right now. And if the dusky smoke in his eyes was anything to go by, he was thinking about it, too.
* * *
A Bargain with the Boss is part of the Chicago Sons series Men who work hard, love harder and live with their fathers legacies
A Bargain with
the Boss
Barbara Dunlop
TwoThree
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Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Extract
Copyright
One
Saturday night ended early for Lawrence Tuck Tucker. His date had not gone well.
Her name was Felicity. She had a bright smile, sunshine-blond hair, a body that could stop traffic and the IQ of a basset hound. But she also had a shrill, long-winded conversational style, and she was stridently against subsidized day care and team sports for children. Plus, she hated the Bulls. What self-respecting Chicagoan hated the Bulls? That was just disloyal.
By the time theyd finished dessert, Tuck was tired of being lectured in high C. He decided life was too short, so hed dropped her off at her apartment with a fleeting good-night kiss.
Now he let himself into the expansive foyer of the Tucker family mansion, shifting his thoughts ahead to Sunday morning. He was meeting his friend Shane Colborn for, somewhat ironically, a pickup basketball game.
Thats just reckless. The angry voice of his father, Jamison Tucker, rang clearly from the library.
Im not saying itll be easy, said Tucks older brother, Dixon, his own voice tight with frustration.
Together the two men ran the familys multinational conglomerate, Tucker Transportation, and it was highly unusual for them to argue.
Now, thats an understatement, said Jamison. Who could possibly step in? Im tied up. And were not sending some junior executive to Antwerp.
The operations director is not a junior executive.
We need a vice president to represent the company. We need you.
Then, send Tuck.
Tuck? Jamison scoffed.
The derision in his fathers voice shouldnt have bothered Tuck. But it did. Even after all these years, he still felt the sting in his fathers lack of faith and respect.
Hes a vice president, said Dixon.
In name only. And barely that.
Dad
Dont you Dad me. You know your brothers shortcomings as well as I do. You want to take an extended vacation? Now?
I didnt choose the timing.
Jamisons voice moderated. She did you wrong, son. Everybody knows that.
My wife of ten years betrayed every promise we ever made to each other. Do you have any idea how that feels?
Tucks sympathies went out to Dixon. It had been a terrible few months since Dixon had caught Kassandra in bed with another man. The final divorce papers had arrived earlier this week. Dixon hadnt said much about them. In fact, hed been unusually tight-lipped.
And youre angry. And thats fine. But you bested her in the divorce. We held up the prenup and shes walking away with next to nothing.
All emotion left Dixons voice. Its all about the money to you, isnt it?
It was to her, said Jamison.
There was a break in the conversation, and Tuck realized they could easily emerge from the library and catch him eavesdropping. He took a silent step back toward the front door.
Tuck deserves a chance, said Dixon.
Tuck froze again to listen.
Tuck had a chance, said Jamison, his words stinging once again.
When? Tuck wanted to shout. When had he had a chance to do anything but sit in his executive floor office and feel like an unwanted guest?
But as quickly as the emotion formed, he reminded himself that he didnt care. His only defense against his father was not to care about respect or recognition or making any meaningful contribution to the family business. Most people would kill for Tucks lifestyle. He needed to shut up and enjoy it.
I knew this was a bad idea, said Dixon.
It was a terrible idea, said Jamison.
Tuck reached behind himself and opened the front door. Then he shut it hard, making a show of tromping his feet over the hardwood floor.
Hello? he called out as he walked toward the library, giving them ample time to pretend theyd been talking about something else.
Hi, Tuck. His brother greeted him as he entered the dark-hued, masculine room.
I didnt see your car out front, Tuck told him.
I parked it in the garage.
So youre staying over?
Dixon had a penthouse downtown, where hed lived with Kassandra, but he occasionally spent a day or two at the family home.
Im staying over, said Dixon. I sold the penthouse today.
From the expression on his fathers face, Tuck could tell this was news to him, as well.
So youll be here for a while? Tuck asked easily. He loosened his tie and pulled it off. What are you drinking?
Glen Garron, Jamison answered.
Sounds good. Tuck shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto one of the deep red leather wingback chairs.
With a perimeter of ceiling-high shelves, a stone fireplace, oversize leather chairs and ornately carved walnut tables, the library hadnt changed in seventy years. It had been built by Tucks grandfather, Randal, as a gentlemans retreat, back in the days when gentlemen thought they had something to retreat from.
Tuck didnt fill the silence, but instead waited to see where his father and brother would take the conversation.
How was your date? his father asked.
It was fine.
Jamison looked pointedly at his heavy platinum watch.
She wasnt exactly a rocket scientist, Tuck said, answering the unspoken question.
Youve dated a rocket scientist? asked Jamison.
Tuck frowned at his fathers mocking tone.
The two men locked gazes for a moment before Jamison spoke. I merely wondered how you had a basis for comparison.
First date? Dixon queried, his tone much less judgmental.
Tuck crossed to the wet bar and flipped up a cut crystal glass. Last date.
Dixon gave a chopped laugh.
Tuck poured a measure of scotch. Interested in the game with Shane tomorrow? he asked his brother.
Cant, said Dixon.
Work? asked Tuck.
Tying up loose ends.
Tuck turned to face the other men. With the penthouse?
Dixons expression was inscrutable. And a few other things.
Tuck got the distinct feeling Dixon was holding something back. But then the two brothers rarely spoke frankly in front of their father. Tuck would catch up with Dixon at some point tomorrow and ask him what was going on. Was he really looking at taking a lengthy vacation? Tuck would be impressed if he was.
Then again, their father was right. Tucker Transportation needed Dixon to keep the corporation running at full speed. And Tuck wasnt any kind of a substitute on that front.
* * *
Amber Bowen looked straight into the eyes of the president of Tucker Transportation and lied.
No, she said to Jamison Tucker. Dixon didnt mention anything to me.
Her loyalty was to her boss, Dixon Tucker. Five years ago, hed given her a chance when nobody else would. Shed been straight out of high school, with no college education and no office experience. Hed put his faith in her then, and she wasnt going to let him down now.
When was the last time you spoke to him?
Jamison Tucker was an imposing figure behind his big desk in the corner office on the thirty-second floor of the Tucker Transportation building. His gray hair was neat, freshly cut every three weeks. His suit was custom-made to cover his barrel chest. He wasnt as tall as his two sons, but he more than made up for it in sturdiness. He was thick necked, like a bulldog. His brow was heavy and his face was square.
Yesterday morning, said Amber. This time she was telling the truth.
His eyes narrowed with what looked like suspicion. You didnt see him last night, sometime after the office closed?
The question took her aback. I... Why?
Its a yes-or-no answer, Amber.
No.
Why would Jamison ask that question, and why in such a suspicious tone?
Are you sure? Jamison asked her, skepticism in his pale blue eyes.
She hesitated before answering. Do you have some reason to believe I saw him last night?
Did you see him last night? There was a note of triumph in his voice.
She hadnt. But she did know where Dixon had been last night. He was at the airport, boarding a private jet for Arizona. She knew hed left Chicago, and she knew he wouldnt be back for a very long time.
Hed told her hed left a note for his family so they wouldnt worry. And hed made her promise not to give anyone more information. And she was keeping that promise.
Dixons family took shameless advantage of his good nature and his strong work ethic. The result was that he was overworked and exhausted. Hed been doing an increasing share of the senior management duties at Tucker Transportation over the past couple of years. And now his divorce had taken a huge toll on his mental and emotional state. If he didnt get some help soon, he was headed for a breakdown.
She knew hed tried to explain it to his family. She also knew they refused to listen. Hed had no choice but to simply disappear. His father and his lazy, good-for-nothing younger brother, Tuck, were simply going to have to step up.
She squared her shoulders. Are you implying that I have a personal relationship with Dixon?
Jamison leaned slightly forward. I dont imply.
Yes, you do. You did. She knew she was skating on thin ice, but she was angry on her behalf and Dixons. It was Dixons wife who had cheated, not Dixon.
Jamisons tone went lower. How dare you?
How dare you, sir. Have some faith in your own son.
Then Jamisons eyes seemed to bulge. His complexion turned ruddy. Why, you
Amber braced herself, gripping the arm of the chair, afraid she would be fired on the spot. She could only hope Dixon would hire her back when he returned.
But Jamison gasped instead and his hand went to his chest. His body stiffened in the big chair and he sucked in three short breaths.
Amber shot to her feet. Mr. Tucker?
There was genuine terror in his expression.
She grabbed the desk phone, calling out to his assistant as she dialed 911.
Jamisons assistant, Margaret Smithers, was through the door in a flash.
While Amber gave instructions to the emergency operator, Margaret called the company nurse.