Eclipse of the Heart

chapter 5

Logan strode into the office building with an excitement he hadn't felt in a long time. He had a war to wage. A pleasant war, but one which would require his best strategic thinking and canniest tactics. Though he didn't doubt the outcome, he was fairly certain that Amanda Thompson would give him a good fight.

He noticed his first problem as soon as he entered the outer office of his suite. The strangely dressed temp who'd made the original mistake with Amanda's interview was still sitting at his assistant's desk.

"What are you doing here," he asked. "Where's Ms. Lockwood?" His regular assistant was supposed to return the Monday after he left for London more than a week ago.

"Good morning," the girl chirped. "Bridget is still out."

"What the hell—Why?" The thought of all the problems that would have developed in the absence of both Ms. Lockwood and himself was enough to halt him in his tracks.

"I think she's still in the hospital." The woman—what the hell was her name—wriggled in her seat like a two-year-old.

"You think?" He clamped his teeth together to prevent the words he wanted to say from escaping. He hired people who knew what they were supposed to know. "Why wasn't I notified?"

A frown of anxiety appeared on her round face. "You were in London."

He plucked his Blackberry out of its holder. "You see this? It communicates all over the world. That's why I have it."

"I know that, sir." She looked down at the desk, and even her two ponytails looked more dejected than they had when he walked in. "But what would be the point of telling you she wasn't here when you weren't here either?"

"Heaven help me," he muttered. "Look." He leaned over the desk. "I need to know everything that happens in this office and in this company. Do you understand?"

She nodded, her big blue eyes fastened on his face as if she were afraid he'd bite if she broke the connection.

"Pick up a pen," he ordered. "Start writing."

He straightened up from her desk and strode toward the window. "Call the hospital and find out what's happening with Ms. Lockwood. I want to know where she is, what her condition is, and when she'll be back."

He stopped at the window and thrust his hands in his pockets as he looked out. Central Park greeted him, dark and bare in its winter nakedness. He could see cars like little ants scurrying along the curved roads.

"Send a large floral arrangement to her wherever she is," he said, still looking out the window. "Next, tell me what's happened with Ms. Thompson." He turned suddenly, spearing the assistant with a glare. "Unless you have a message from her?"

Biting her bottom lip, she shook her head.

"You did send her the job offer I forwarded to Ms. Lockwood?" Damnit. He relied totally on Ms. Lockwood. If he told her to do something, he assumed it was done. Of course, he hadn't heard from her at all, now that he thought about it. He'd been so busy getting the deal wrapped up with QDT.

"Ummm…" The assistant began rifling through some papers on her desk. "Yes, I'm sure I did."

A feeling of doom settled over Logan. Guilt, guilt and more guilt was plastered across the woman's face. "I sent it via email," he said. "Can you show me the forwarded message?"

She hit a bunch of numbers on the keyboard, but even he could see the randomness of her efforts.

He leaned over the desk to read the monitor. A long list of unread messages greeted him.

"What are you doing?" She put a hand up as if to hide the monitor.

"You can't read? What the hell are you doing working in an office?"

"I can read," she said. "Just not when I'm nervous."

He saw his message about Amanda. Unread. Unforwarded. Amanda had been waiting to hear from him for more than a week.

Fury blazed through him.

"I make people nervous!" he roared, slamming his hand on the desk. "You can't work for me if being nervous prevents you from performing your job."

She lifted her chin. "That's nothing to be proud of." Her words were defiant, but her voice trembled.

"You've made a serious mistake," he yelled. "I want you to forward this message while I watch. Ask the recipient to be here tomorrow at 10 a.m. to meet with me."

She lifted a shaking hand.

Logan grabbed hold of his temper. What was wrong with him? He never yelled at people. Partly because he didn't have to. Partly because he didn't think it was right to yell at someone who was dependent on him for her living. The power imbalance shouldn't be abused.

All he could think of right now was Amanda and her big brown eyes, brimming with anxiety as she talked about her need for insurance. Damn. He didn't want to worry about her sister. He'd given up those kinds of emotions a long time ago.

"I'm sorry," he said curtly. He leaned over her desk and began typing on her keyboard. He hit send.

Then he straightened up and regarded his hapless assistant. "Look, I need someone I can depend on. I'm sure there's another job in the company more suited to your talents."

Whatever they were. He looked over her costume of the day. The two ponytails dangling over her ears looked kind of girlish. But heavy metal jewelry dangled from her earlobes and wrapped around her neck in a way that looked like she'd dressed this morning in a junkyard. He couldn't imagine why HR had hired her in the first place, never mind sent her to his office.

She looked up at him through heavily made up eyes and curly bangs. "They don't want me in other departments," she said sadly. "I'm too different."

"Perhaps the corporate world is not the best milieu for you." He waved a hand vaguely at her to indicate her attire.

"It's not." She heaved up a big sigh. "But I need an income."

"This can't be your dream job."

"Of course not!" She looked shocked at the mere suggestion. "I'm a fashion designer."

"Ah." He didn't even know what to say. Would people pay good money to look like she did?

"Perhaps this isn't your taste." She waved at the junk. "But I have to be noticeable."

"You are that," he admitted.

"I thought you would understand! Bridget said you were nice under your tough guy exterior."

Logan barely suppressed his surprise. Ms. Lockwood had said that? He couldn't imagine where she'd gotten such an idea.

Even she wouldn't know what to with this child who looked and sounded like a rebellious teenager. How could he? He bore down hard on the memory of his sister. He didn't walk down memory lane. Ever.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I need both competence and a certain dignity fronting my office."

"I shouldn't have repeated what Bridget said." She waved a be-ringed hand. "I actually meant that I thought you'd understand someone being different because of your sister."

His mouth dropped open and he stared in shock. No one mentioned his family. If they ever had, back when the tragedy occurred, they'd quickly learned the subject was a one-way ticket out the door.

She hurried into the breach of his silence. "You know, the rock star."

Logan turned on his heel and walked out. One call to HR and the woman would be gone. Obliterated from his life. No one could force him to remember.