Love 'N' Marriage by Debbie MacOmber
Chapter One
Stephanie Coulter sauntered into the personnel office at Lockwood Industries carrying a brown paper bag. Her friend, Jan Michaels, glanced up expectantly. “Hi. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
In response, Stephanie placed the sack on the top of Jan’s desk.
“What’s that?”
Stephanie sat on the corner of her friend’s desk and folded her arms. “Maureen sent the books. It seems I’ve been allotted the privilege of delivering romances.”
“I take it Potter is still sick?”
“Right.” The entire morning had been a series of frustrations for Stephanie. Her boss was out with a bad case of the flu for the third consecutive day. For the first couple of days, Stephanie had been able to occupy herself with the little things a secretary never seems to find the time to do. Things like clearing out the filing cabinets and reorganizing her desk. But by the third morning she’d run out of ideas, and had ended up typing a letter to her parents, feeling guilty about doing it on company time.
“Old Stone Face is out as well,” Jan informed her. The uncomplimentary name had been bestowed upon the executive secretary to the company’s president, Jonas Lockwood. In the two years that Stephanie had been working for the company, she’d never known Bertha Westheimer to miss a day. For that matter, Stephanie had never even visited the older woman’s domain on the top floor, and doubted that she ever would. Bertha guarded her territory like a polar bear protecting her cubs.
The corner of Jan’s mouth twitched. “And guess who’s working with Mr. Lockwood? You’re going to love this.”
“Who?” Stephanie mentally reviewed the list of possible candidates, coming up blank. “Mimi Palmer.”
“Who?”
“Mimi Palmer. She’s been here about a month, working in the typing pool, and—get this—she’s Old Stone Face’s niece.”
“I can just imagine how that’s working out.”
“I haven’t heard any complaints yet,” Jan murmured as she opened the paper bag. “But then it’s still early.” She took out the top book and shot a questioning glance in Stephanie’s direction. “Are you sure you don’t want to read one of these? They’re great, Steph, and if you’re looking to kill time...”
Stephanie held up both palms and shook her head adamantly. “That would look terrific, wouldn’t it.
Can you imagine what Potter would say if he walked in and caught me reading one of those?”
“Take one home,” Jan offered next.
“No, thanks. I’m just not into romances.”
From the look Jan was giving her, Stephanie could tell that her friend wasn’t pleased with her response. She knew that several of the other women employees at Lockwood Industries read romances and often traded books back and forth. To be honest, she didn’t see why the women found them so enjoyable, but since she hadn’t read one she felt she didn’t have any right to judge.
“I wish you wouldn’t be so closed-minded, especially since—” She was interrupted when the door burst open and Mr. Lockwood himself stormed into the room like an unexpected squall. He was tall and broad-shouldered and walked with a cane, his limp more exaggerated than Stephanie could ever recall seeing it. She remembered the first time she’d seen Jonas Lockwood and the fleeting sadness she’d felt that a man so attractive would be chained so. The twisted right leg marred the perfection of his healthy, strong body. His appearance was that of a cynical, relentless male. As always, Stephanie couldn’t take her eyes away from him. His dark good looks commanded her attention anytime he was near.
He paused only a second while his frosty blue gaze ran over her in an emotionless inspection, dismissing her. She wasn’t accustomed to anyone regarding her as though she were nothing more than a pesky piece of lint. It infuriated Stephanie even more that his reaction should bother her at all. She hadn’t exactly been holding her breath waiting for the company president to notice her. She found him intriguing, and subconsciously had expected some reaction from him once they met. He revealed nothing except irritation.
“Damn it, Michaels, couldn’t you find me a decent replacement for even one day?” he roared, completely ignoring Stephanie.
“Mr. Lockwood, sir.” Clearing her throat, Jan got to her feet. “Sir, is there a problem?”
“I’d hardly be standing here if there wasn’t,” he gritted. “Why the hell would you send me that nitwit woman in the first place?”
“Sir, Miss Westheimer recommended Miss Palmer. She told me that Miss Palmer is highly qualified—”
“She’s utterly incompetent.” He certainly didn’t mince words, Stephanie mused. “I specifically asked for a mature secretary. Certainly that shouldn’t be such a difficult request.”
“But, sir...”