Blue-Eyed Devil (Travis Family #2)(32)

Vanessa let it drop to me that she'd had an assistant named Helen for years, and she would have brought Helen with her to the new job, except that I'd already been given the position. It hadn't occurred to me that I would have broken up a long-running professional partnership, and robbed someone of a position they deserved. When Vanessa had me call Helen, who was still at the old office, to find out the name and number of Vanessa's favorite manicurist, I took the opportunity to apologize to Helen.

"God, don't be sorry," Helen said. "It was the best thing that ever happened to me."

I wanted to quit right then. But I was stuck, and Vanessa and I both knew it. With my skimpy resume, I couldn't quit a job right after starting one. And I didn't know how long it would take me to find something else. Complaining about Vanessa was out of the question — it would make me look like a prima donna, or paranoid, or both. So I decided I would stick it out for a year. I would make some contacts and dig my own way out.

"Why me?" I asked my therapist, Susan, after describing the situation with Vanessa. "She could focus on anyone in that office as a target. Do I give off 'victim' signals or something? Do I seem weak?"

"I don't believe so," Susan said gravely. "In fact, it's most likely that Vanessa sees you as a threat. Someone she has to subdue and neutralize."

"Me, a threat?" I shook my head. "Not to someone like Vanessa. She's confident and put-together. She's — "

"Confident people aren't bullies. I'll bet Vanessa's apparent confidence is really nothing but a front. A false self she's constructed to cover her deficiencies." Susan smiled at my skeptical expression. "And yes, you could be a big threat to an insecure person. You're bright, educated, pretty . . . and there's the little matter of your last name. Conquering someone like you would be a big bolster to Vanessa's sense of superiority."

My first Friday after starting at Travis Management Solutions, Jack came to my cubicle carrying a large shopping bag tied with a bow. "Here," he said, handing it to me over a mountain of paper on my desk. "A little something to celebrate your first week."

I opened the shopping bag and unearthed a briefcase made of chocolate-colored leather. "Jack, it's beautiful. Thank you."

"You're coming out with me and Heidi tonight," he informed me. "That's the other part of the celebration."

Heidi was one of a virtual harem of women that Jack dated interchangeably. Since he was so open about not wanting to be tied down, none of them seemed to expect any form of commitment from him.

"I don't want to be a third wheel on your date," I protested.

"You won't bother us," he said. "And you're not even a full-sized wheel. More like a training wheel."

I rolled my eyes, having already accepted a long time ago that being the target of short jokes from my towering brothers was an inescapable fact of life. "I'm tired," I said. "Trust me, I'm not up to partying with you and Heidi. One drink and I'll probably pass out."

"Then I'll put you into a cab and send you home." Jack gave me an inexorable look. "I'll haul you out of here if I have to, Haven. I mean it."

Even though I knew he would never use force on me, I felt myself blanch, and I went stiff in my chair. Don't touch me, I wanted to say, but the words were locked behind my teeth, thrashing like caged wild birds.

Jack blinked in surprise, staring at me. "Hey . . . I was just kidding, honey. For God's sake, don't look at me like that. It makes me feel as guilty as shit, and I don't even know why."

I forced myself to smile and relax. "Sorry. Bad memory." I reflected that Nick wouldn't have wanted me to go out tonight, having fun, meeting people. He would have wanted me to stay at home, isolated. Just for that, I decided, I would go out to spite him.

"Okay," I heard myself say. "Maybe for a little while. Is what I'm wearing all right?" I was dressed in a black turtleneck and a simple skirt and pumps.

"Sure. It's just a casual bar."

"It's not a meeting-people type of bar?"

"No. This is an after-work bar where you get a drink to unwind. After that, you leave for the meeting-people type of bar. And if you pick up someone good there, you go to a nice, quiet gonna-get-laid bar, and if that works out, you take her home with you."

"That sounds like a lot of work," I said.

Vanessa came to the opening of the cubicle, slim and sleek and poised. "What fun," she said, her gaze moving from Jack to the present on the desk. She confused me with a warm smile. "Well, I guess you deserve a reward, Haven . . . you did a great job this week."

"Thanks." I was surprised and gratified that she would praise me in front of my brother.

"Of course," she added, still smiling, "we'll have to work on using your time more productively." She winked at Jack. "Someone likes to e-mail friends when she should be working."

That wasn't true — I was outraged — but I couldn't argue with her in front of Jack. "I don't know how you got that idea," I said mildly.

Vanessa gave a gentle laugh "I noticed the way you click on the minimizer whenever I walk by." She turned to Jack. "Did I hear you say you two were going out?"