Approaching the reception desk outside the executive
offices of Skerritt and Crowe Financial Consultants, Caleb
plastered on the professional smile he'd been practicing
for the past week. "I'm here to see A. J. Merrick."
"Do you have an appointment, sir?" the older, gray-haired
receptionist asked as he started toward the doors behind
her desk.
"I'm Caleb Walker." He gave her a conspiratorial wink. "I
believe Merrick is expecting me."
"Hold it right there, Mr. Walton," she said, rising to
block his way.
"Walker." He frowned. Hadn't Merrick let the other
employees know about his taking over as president of the
firm?
The woman shrugged. "Walker, Walton, it doesn't matter
what your name is. You're not going in there without an
appointment."
Apparently, no one had bothered to inform this
woman. "Tell you what —" he glanced at the nameplate on
her desk " — Geneva. After I talk with your boss, I
promise I'll come back and introduce myself."
"My boss is busy and doesn't want to be disturbed." Geneva
pointed to a row of chairs lining the wall across the
room. "If you'll have a seat, I'll see if I can work you
in."
At six feet four inches tall, he towered over the woman by
at least a foot, but she wasn't acting the least bit
intimidated by it. From the look on her face, she was just
as determined to keep him out of the office as he was
determined he was going inside.
It was all he could do to keep a straight face. Geneva
reminded him of a little banty hen his grandpa used to
own — all bluff and ruffled feathers. And if her defiant
expression was any indication, he had no doubt that he'd
be sitting in the reception area until hell froze over
before she picked up the phone and announced his arrival.
"There's no need to go to all that trouble, Geneva."
Chuckling, he sidestepped the woman as he reached for the
polished knob on the mahogany door with A. J.
Merrick engraved on a brass plaque. "Take my word for it,
Merrick is going to want to meet with me right away."
"I'll call security," Geneva threatened, rushing over to
the phone.
"You do that," Caleb said, nodding. "I'd like to meet with
them, too."
"Oh, you will, buster," she promised, stabbing her finger
at the phone's keypad.
Without waiting to see if Geneva reached the security
desk, Caleb opened the door and stepped into the spacious
office. His gaze immediately zeroed in on the young woman
seated behind a huge walnut desk in front of a wall of
floor-to-ceiling windows.
With her dark auburn hair pulled back in a bun tight
enough to make his grandma Walker proud and a pair of
oversize black plastic-framed glasses, she looked more
like a headmistress at one of those hoity-toity private
all-girl schools in Nashville than a modern corporate
secretary. And if her disapproving expression was any
indication, she was just as unyielding and strict about
rules and protocol as one of those overly uptight
teachers, too.
But as he sauntered over to stand in front of the desk, he
thought he saw a hint of uncertainty about her — a
vulnerability that, considering the image she was
obviously trying to project, he hadn't expected. "Excuse
me. I'm looking for A. J. Merrick."
"Do you have business here?" she asked, her voice cool
enough to freeze ice.
Rising to her feet, she pushed her glasses up her pert
little nose with a delicate hand, inadvertently drawing
attention to her brilliant blue eyes — eyes that sent him
a look that would have probably stopped a lesser man dead
in his tracks. It didn't faze Caleb one damned bit. On the
contrary. He wasn't sure why, but for some reason he found
something quite intriguing about her intense blue gaze.
"I'm —"
"If you're looking for personnel, it's down the hall," she
said, cutting him off before he had a chance to introduce
himself. Pausing, she arched one perfectly shaped
eyebrow. "Was Mrs. Wallace at her desk?"
The woman's no-nonsense tone couldn't quite mask the soft,
melodic quality of her voice and had Caleb wondering why
the sound seemed to bring every one of his male hormones
to full alert. Wondering what the hell had gotten into
him, he decided it had to be the fact that he hadn't been
with a woman in the better part of a year. That alone was
enough to make any normal, healthy adult male feel as
though he was about to jump out of his own skin. It also
made him overly conscious of every move a woman — any
woman — made.
Satisfied that he'd come up with an explanation for his
interest in the less-than-friendly secretary, he jerked
his thumb over his shoulder. "As far as I know, Geneva's
still out there." He chuckled. "Although I'm not real sure
she didn't break one of her fingers punching in the number
for security."
"Good."
"Good that she might have broken a finger? Or good that
she was calling security?" he asked, grinning.
"I didn't mean —" Frowning, she stopped short and it was
clear that for a split second, he'd thrown her off
guard. "Good that she's summoning security, of course."
"Hey, lighten up. Life is too short to be so uptight." The
woman rounded the end of the desk, her expression anything
but welcoming. "I don't know who you think you are or why
you're here, but you can't just walk in and —"
The sound of the door crashing against the wall stopped
the young woman in midsentence.
"That's him."
Caleb glanced over his shoulder to see the receptionist
charge into the office with a defiant glare. Two middle-
aged, potbellied uniformed men followed close behind.
"I see you got hold of the security guards, Geneva." He
glanced at his watch, then nodded his approval.
"Their response time wasn't bad, but I think we could work
on improving it, don't you?"
Geneva managed to look down her nose at him despite the
difference in their heights, then turned her attention to
the woman with the remarkable baby blues. "I'm sorry, Ms.
Merrick." She eyed Caleb like she didn't think his
elevator went all the way to the top floor. "He wouldn't
take no for an answer."
Caleb raised an eyebrow. This was A. J. Merrick?
Interesting. She definitely wasn't what he'd expected.
Emerald had led him to believe that Merrick was a stodgy
old gent, not a twentysomething woman with incredible blue
eyes.
As they stared at each other like opponents in a boxing
ring, his neglected libido noticed that A. J. Merrick
wasn't dressed like most women her age. Instead of her
black suit caressing her body and showing off her assets,
it hung from her small frame like an empty tow sack. But
if her delicate hands, slender neck and what he could see
of her long, perfectly shaped legs were any indication,
he'd bet his grandpa's best coonhound she was hiding some
pretty incredible curves inside all that baggy black linen.
"It's all right, Mrs. Wallace." Ms. Merrick treated Caleb
to a triumphant smile that did strange things to his
insides and made him feel as if the temperature in the
room had suddenly gone up ten degrees. "I'm sure you'll
understand that applying for a job now would be a waste of
time for both of us." To the guards coming to stand on
either side of him, she added, "Please show this gentleman
to the parking lot."
"That's mighty unfriendly of you," Caleb said, shaking his
head.
Allowing the men to demonstrate how they would handle the
situation if he'd been a real threat, Caleb almost laughed
out loud when they clumsily grabbed his arms and attempted
to pull them behind his back. He immediately decided that
they not only needed to work on their response time to a
situation, but could both benefit from a refresher course
in methods of restraint. If he'd been of a mind to, he
could have broken their hold without doing much more than
flexing his biceps.
"I'm not here to apply for a job." He smiled. "I already
work here."
"Oh, really?" Ms. Merrick tilted her head curiously.
"Since I do the final interviews for all new employees,
would you care to refresh my memory and tell me what your
name is, when we hired you and just which area of Skerritt
and Crowe you think you work in?"
"I got the job a week ago and I intend to work in the
office next to yours." Chuckling, he decided he was going
to enjoy sparring with A. J. Merrick. "The name is Walker.
Caleb Walker."
He could tell from the widening of her baby blues behind
those ridiculous glasses that his answers were not what
she'd expected. But she quickly recovered her composure
and motioned toward the two guards. "Mr. Norton, Mr. Clay,
please release Mr. Walker immediately."
"But Ms. Merrick —"
"I said, let him go," she repeated. She lifted her
stubborn little chin a notch. "Mr. Walker is the new
president of Skerritt and Crowe."
From somewhere behind him, he heard Geneva gasp at the
same time as the two guards dropped their hold on him.
"Sorry about that, Mr. Walker," one of the men said,
clumsily trying to straighten Caleb's shirtsleeve.
Silence reigned for several tense seconds as Caleb and the
woman in front of him stared at each other. In a lot of
ways she reminded him of another woman and another time.
He took a deep breath. That had been a while back and he'd
learned a lot in the few years since. He was no longer a
naive farm boy with lofty dreams and a trusting heart. He
was a grown man who'd learned his lessons well.
"If you'd give Ms. Merrick and me a few minutes, I'd
surely appreciate it," he finally said as he continued to
meet her intense gaze. When he heard the quiet click of
the door being pulled shut behind the three, Caleb
smiled. "What do you say we start over?" He stuck out his
hand. "I'm Caleb Walker. It's nice to meet you, Ms.
Merrick."