to silent. And when she looked up, it was to see Wyatt standing across from her, his eyes hooded.
“Problem?” he asked.
She shook her head. “My mother. She’s just lonely.”
“She needs a hobby.”
“She needs to get laid.” Then her eyes widened in horror. Had she just said that out loud? And to her boss?
Apparently so, because he snorted a laugh. “Can’t help with that. But maybe she could go on one of those bus trips. We passed at least five of them in the last hour. Lots of people her own age, lots of potential friends.”
Megan’s eyes widened. Had he just given her the perfect solution for her mother problem? If nothing else, it would keep the woman occupied for a while. “Her birthday is coming up,” she said.
“There you go. Give her a trip, then guilt her into going.”
“I could do that.” She suddenly brightened. “I will do that. Thank you!”
He shrugged. “Glad I could help.” Then he sat down across from her, his expression serious, his body very, very still. And he waited while she watched the way the wind flattened his tee shirt against his very broad chest. What if she didn’t work for him? What if instead of taking her promotion, she asked him out on a date instead? What would he say?
“Megan?” he asked.
She blinked, abruptly jerking her thoughts away from her sudden longing. She loved her job, she reminded herself. She was not going to tank it just because her boss was the greatest guy she’d ever met.
“Okay,” she said, mentally re-ordering her thoughts. “You remember when I was a maid for you? At that first B&B?”
He nodded. “Tie-dyed tanks, ripped cut-offs. Best maid I’ve ever had. Er, employed.”
“You got that right,” she said with a smile. “It was a week or so before you offered me this job. I was talking with Paulita about weddings. She was pregnant, you know, and she was so happy. They’d only been married a month, but she’d wanted a kid. So bam, her dreams had come true.” Over the years, Megan had thought often about Paulita. Was the woman still as happy as she’d been then? Did she miss having a job? Money? Independence?
Meanwhile, Wyatt was frowning, obviously sorting through his memories. “She needed the job, needed the money, but I didn’t know if she could work pregnant. It’s a strenuous job.”
“Don’t I know it,” she murmured. Working in housekeeping had convinced her that she wanted a desk job. “Then, at the end of my shift, you called me into the office and showed me a spreadsheet.”
“An early form of my Employee Risk Evaluation.”
“Yeah, that.” She bit her lip remembering the neat column of figures. “It wasn’t just risk. You tabulated marketable skills, education, health, any number of other factors. You laid it all out there and boiled everything down to a single number.” She’d been a 6. On a 37 point scale. She remembered staring at that number and all but sobbing on the spot. Her whole life, all of her reduced to a single digit number.
“I remember. I had blank spaces on your line. Things I didn’t know or couldn’t evaluate.”
Megan took a breath, forcing herself to continue. “You told me you saw possibility in me. That there might be a better job for me but only if I got that number up to double digits.”
“You hadn’t graduated from college yet. I knew you were tired. You were studying every break you had. I was…I was trying to give you incentive to finish.”
Her lips curved into a smile. “You were afraid I was going to drop out?”
“Yes.”
A single word, but it explained so much. “Well, it worked. I took that damn paper home and stared at it. I filled it out for my parents, my brothers, my boyfriend. Hell, I even wrote it out for Paulita. Her greatest ambition was to stay home and have a dozen kids. That gave her a big fat zero according to your spreadsheet on all sorts of line items.”
“It wasn’t an evaluation of you as a person. It was simply a list of
“Problem?” he asked.
She shook her head. “My mother. She’s just lonely.”
“She needs a hobby.”
“She needs to get laid.” Then her eyes widened in horror. Had she just said that out loud? And to her boss?
Apparently so, because he snorted a laugh. “Can’t help with that. But maybe she could go on one of those bus trips. We passed at least five of them in the last hour. Lots of people her own age, lots of potential friends.”
Megan’s eyes widened. Had he just given her the perfect solution for her mother problem? If nothing else, it would keep the woman occupied for a while. “Her birthday is coming up,” she said.
“There you go. Give her a trip, then guilt her into going.”
“I could do that.” She suddenly brightened. “I will do that. Thank you!”
He shrugged. “Glad I could help.” Then he sat down across from her, his expression serious, his body very, very still. And he waited while she watched the way the wind flattened his tee shirt against his very broad chest. What if she didn’t work for him? What if instead of taking her promotion, she asked him out on a date instead? What would he say?
“Megan?” he asked.
She blinked, abruptly jerking her thoughts away from her sudden longing. She loved her job, she reminded herself. She was not going to tank it just because her boss was the greatest guy she’d ever met.
“Okay,” she said, mentally re-ordering her thoughts. “You remember when I was a maid for you? At that first B&B?”
He nodded. “Tie-dyed tanks, ripped cut-offs. Best maid I’ve ever had. Er, employed.”
“You got that right,” she said with a smile. “It was a week or so before you offered me this job. I was talking with Paulita about weddings. She was pregnant, you know, and she was so happy. They’d only been married a month, but she’d wanted a kid. So bam, her dreams had come true.” Over the years, Megan had thought often about Paulita. Was the woman still as happy as she’d been then? Did she miss having a job? Money? Independence?
Meanwhile, Wyatt was frowning, obviously sorting through his memories. “She needed the job, needed the money, but I didn’t know if she could work pregnant. It’s a strenuous job.”
“Don’t I know it,” she murmured. Working in housekeeping had convinced her that she wanted a desk job. “Then, at the end of my shift, you called me into the office and showed me a spreadsheet.”
“An early form of my Employee Risk Evaluation.”
“Yeah, that.” She bit her lip remembering the neat column of figures. “It wasn’t just risk. You tabulated marketable skills, education, health, any number of other factors. You laid it all out there and boiled everything down to a single number.” She’d been a 6. On a 37 point scale. She remembered staring at that number and all but sobbing on the spot. Her whole life, all of her reduced to a single digit number.
“I remember. I had blank spaces on your line. Things I didn’t know or couldn’t evaluate.”
Megan took a breath, forcing herself to continue. “You told me you saw possibility in me. That there might be a better job for me but only if I got that number up to double digits.”
“You hadn’t graduated from college yet. I knew you were tired. You were studying every break you had. I was…I was trying to give you incentive to finish.”
Her lips curved into a smile. “You were afraid I was going to drop out?”
“Yes.”
A single word, but it explained so much. “Well, it worked. I took that damn paper home and stared at it. I filled it out for my parents, my brothers, my boyfriend. Hell, I even wrote it out for Paulita. Her greatest ambition was to stay home and have a dozen kids. That gave her a big fat zero according to your spreadsheet on all sorts of line items.”
“It wasn’t an evaluation of you as a person. It was simply a list of
Similar Books
