Rock Hard (Rock Kiss #2)(17)

“Cleared him.” Joseph’s response was jubilant. “He’ll be on the pitch tomorrow.”

Gabriel grinned, making a mental note to message his baby brother in congratulations. “Are you and Mom still doing that movie thing?”

Joseph and Alison had found one another when Gabriel was eight and his brother, Sailor, six. A marriage as soon as his mom’s divorce was final, two more kids, and more than two decades later, they were still nuts for one another. Enough that Joseph, a big man’s man who’d earned a name as an enforcer on the rugby field, had agreed to “romcom date nights” with Alison, regardless of the fact he’d rather have rusty metal spikes driven into his eyeballs.

“Of course we’re doing the movie thing,” Joseph said now. “You think we’re about to celebrate our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary because I’m an idiot?”

Laughing, Gabriel talked with his stepfather for a few more minutes before ending the call and messaging his brother. The twin interactions wiped away the anger he’d felt at seeing that letter, that ridiculous handwriting that was all flourish and no substance, just like the man who’d formed the words.

“Ms. Baird,” he said, going to the doorway so he could playfully needle his PA—who was starting to no longer quiver in his presence… and who was getting more and more attractive every day.

Her desk, however, was empty.




CHARLOTTE WAS ZIPPING UP a dress in deep magenta when her cell phone rang, a familiar name flashing on the screen. “Mr. Bishop?”

“I can’t find the damn Baxter file.” It was a snarl.

“I put it on the left corner of your desk.”

A pause.

She took the chance to check out the dress in the mirror, was shocked to realize the vibrant color looked good on her. Not that she could wear it yet. It was one thing to remove the cloak of invisibility, another to shout her presence.

“Got it.” Gabriel’s voice back in her ear. “I need you back here ASAP.”

“Why?” It was much easier to dig in her heels when she wasn’t face-to-face with him.

He growled—actually growled down the line. “Because you’re my damn PA.”

“I didn’t see a slave clause in my contract.” Charlotte had no idea where this was coming from. “I didn’t take a lunch break, so I’m having a short break now.” She went to unzip the dress, stopped when she realized he might hear her.

“Eat fast.”

She dressed and undressed fast instead, sending Molly photo after photo. Fifteen minutes later and she had a couple of new outfits. Making plans with her best friend to do some further shopping once Molly returned to the country, she girded her loins and returned to work. To find T-Rex’s door shut.

Wondering what was up since he didn’t have anything scheduled, she sat down at her desk and decided to take the time before the inevitable confrontation to check her e-mails. The routine task would calm her the same way the other routines did in her life.

Except the e-mail at the top was from Gabriel Bishop, complete with an ominous subject line: Changes to the terms of your employment.

Clicking it with her heart in her throat, she got ready to be penalized for snapping at the boss… and burst out laughing. A hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, she glanced at Gabriel’s closed door. The man was lethal.

Turning back to the screen, she read the e-mail again.





Dear Ms. Baird,





As of today, you do have a slave clause in your contract. It means you do everything I say. Under no circumstances are you to eat, sleep, take breaks, or check in to hotel rooms with men named Eggplant.





Sincerely,





Gabriel Bishop





Hitting the Reply key, Charlotte typed a message and sent it before she could second-guess herself. Afterward, she printed out both his e-mail and her own and put them in her handbag.





8


OH, THOSE RED, RED ROSES…





GABRIEL WALKED VIV GRIMES to the door, having just spent an hour discussing her options with Saxon & Archer. The previous CEO had misused the intelligent supply manager to the point that she’d been about to resign when Gabriel came on board. He’d just convinced her that she could trust him to watch her back. Which he would.

Unlike his predecessor, Gabriel understood the value of good people.

He glanced toward Charlotte’s desk as Viv left. Seeing her chair pushed back and an open file beside her computer, as if she’d stepped out for a quick minute, he wondered if his suddenly mouthy assistant—he grinned at the memory of that phone call—had seen his message.

Before he could check his e-mail for a reply, she walked into his office with a bottle of water, a foot-long sub, and a scowl on her face. “Since I know you didn’t stop for lunch.” She put both on his desk.

“Where’s my coffee?” he said, needing the hit.

“You mainline it,” she muttered. “Drink some water for a change.” With that, she turned and left.

He decided he liked her back view as much as the front.

Except for the fact her ugly sack of a dress hid every feminine curve he wanted to see. Whoever Ernest was, he was a damn idiot if he hadn’t taught Charlotte that she was sexy as hell.