The Bad Boy Page 9

  Her brows rose as if she really hadn’t expected to find him at his desk, then her eyes narrowed as she stepped into his office and closed the door behind her. The other door was already closed, but she strode toward it and pushed, obviously making sure it’d been latched tight.

  Cooper sat back in his chair, feigning casualness, though he mentally braced for the coming storm. When she turned back to him, she’d composed her , expression, for some reason hiding the anger and suspicion that had to be raging in her.

  She folded her hands in front of her, probably to keep herself from wringing his neck. "I received a steady stream of phone calls this morning from the managers of the stores opening today."

  "I imagine you have."

  He could see her throat working. "So you did order the doors at those stores be kept locked until 4:00 p.m. today."

  "l did."

  She stared at him, her gaze heavy with frustration but lacking the anger she’d displayed that first day in Joe’s office. Instead, he saw a disappointment that trapped the air in his lungs. Then she inhaled a deep breath that lifted her breasts and squared her shoulders.

  Her chin went up a notch. "Fine." Without a word more, she turned on her pink high heels and left his office through the main door, shutting it carefully behind her.

  Cooper’s jaw went slack. He hadn’t expected tears or a tantrum--Sara was far too mature and professional--but because of her name-calling spat in Joseph’s office that first day, he’d figured he was in for a verbal brawl.

  But she’d kept her cool. Which sent his suspicion through the roof and worried him to no end. She must have a plan.

  He shook off his concern. Odds were she was running straight for Joseph. Alexander, at the very least.

  Too bad she’d discover neither in their offices. They should be arriving at the remodel job he’d invited them out to see about now, only to be told by Ted that Cooper wouldn’t be joining them after all, that something had come up. Then Ted would graciously offer to give them the lengthy tour Cooper had promised of the soon-to-be Victorian-style bed-and-breakfast. Picked because it was oh-so-conveniently located in a cell-phone dead spot a half a dozen miles outside of town.

  One of the best things about his and Ted’s partnership was the fact that he’d covered for Ted often enough when he’d wanted to go fishing instead of spend time with his in-laws that when Cooper needed the favor returned. Ted didn’t ask questions.

  It would take Sara most of the day to reach them. By then the damage would be done, both to the corporate bottom line and the family’s image.

  Then Cooper would face the music.

  The McCoys may have handed him the world on a platinum platter, but that didn’t make up for what Marcus had done. And Marcus hadn’t been adopted; that sort of perfidy had to run deep in a family. The thought didn’t sit well.

  But Sara had still tried to see the good in him. How ironic.

  He'd never admired a woman more in his life.

  SARA’S FIRST INCLINATION was to run straight for Joseph’s or Alexander’s office.

  But that was probably exactly what Cooper wanted her to do. He wanted to destroy any chance he might have of being a part of that family. She wouldn’t let him. Alexander had trusted her to keep Cooper in line, and she was determined to do just that. Her father wouldn’t have failed, and neither would she.

  She turned and went into her own office, shutting the door quietly behind her with an eye on the closed door adjoining their offices. Let him think he was calling the shots. She walked to her desk and picked out a few cinnamon-heart candies, then popped one in her mouth as she sat down. Her dad had called them his "brilliance pills," and she’d adopted the habit.

  Cooper had played the "l’m a McCoy, so you’ll damn well do as I say" card when he’d phoned the stores this morning and delayed the openings. Technically, she was his boss. But she couldn’t simply countermand him.

  Because she wasn’t a family member.

  Only Joseph or Alexander could reverse him. A fact that made her feel really, really crappy.

  Yet there had to be something she could do at this late time to minimize the damage done by keeping the doors locked during such a highly publicized grand opening. If only she could talk to her friend in Legal, Lynn Hayes. Lynn, however, was off dealing with one of the Lost Millionaires.

  Slumping in her chair, Sara crunched the hard candy rather than hold it on her tongue the way she usually did. The tension had made her hands damp, so she put the remaining candies in her mouth to keep from ending up with a red stain on her palm.

  Maybe if she put a positive spin on the stores' locked doors, the media wouldn’t jump on the company’s failure to open. lf not, the cost would be high ....

  She sat forward in her chair and reached for her phone, madly crunching the spicy-sweet candies so she could talk. She pushed the button to connect her with her assistant, who picked up immediately.

  "Natalie, would you please get me the radio contact lists for the stores scheduled to open today?" There wasn’t enough time to do anything in print or even television.

  "Certainly, Sara. I’ll bring them right in."

  "Thank you." Sara hung up and grabbed a notepad and pen from her top drawer. She might be able to salvage the day after all.

  Whether she’d be able to salvage Cooper for Joseph’s sake, without being damaged herself, was another problem entirely.

  BY LATE AFTERNOON Cooper really started to fidget. He never had been the sort to sit around and wait for trouble to come to him. Hours had gone by and no one had screamed at the train wreck he’d caused.

  Why hadn’t Sara stormed back in after being unable to reach Joseph or Alexander? He seriously doubted she had reached them, because if so, he would have heard from them by now. Maybe she was still trying. Or maybe his using the name "McCoy" didn’t carry as much weight as he’d been led to believe.

  He put down the shipping invoice he’d been staring blindly at and picked up his phone. The store manager of the branch he and Sara had toured in St. Louis answered on the first ring.

  "Nelson here." The man had been seriously hacked off about the order Cooper had given him, but he didn’t sound unhappy now.

  Certain the guy’s tone would change after hearing who’d called him. Cooper said. "This is Mr. Anders."

  "Hello, Mr. Anders!"

  Cooper frowned at Nelson’s cheery greeting. "Are my orders still being carried out?"

  "Yes. Mr. Anders. And now l know why you McCoys are so successful. I’d thought you were drunk or something when you called this morning, but what you’re doing is brilliant. People are really responding to the radio ads. There must be a couple dozen people lined up outside the doors already."

  Ads? What the hell? "Refresh my memory about which ads are running in your market."

  "The ones about why the store is opening so late, of course." Judging from his tone, Nelson’s opinion of Cooper’s brilliance had just taken a nosedive. "Where the deejays on the radio say our opening-day prices are so low we can’t afford to unlock the doors any sooner."

  Cooper’s brows came down as his blood pressure skyrocketed. He didn’t have to wonder for long how he’d been so thoroughly thwarted. Nelson added, "Granted, Ms. Barnes really has us scrambling to reprice all those items she selected at the last minute, but I suppose some lawyer finally got around to mentioning to you all it was necessary to avoid being accused of false advertising. Am I right?"

  Pain throbbed behind Cooper’s eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Something like that."

  Nelson guffawed. "I figured as much. At any rate, you at Corporate were smart not to spend any money on TV or print ads, because I’ve already gotten calls from two of the local stations, as well as the paper about coming out to cover the hoopla. We’ll get plenty of free exposure from them."

  "Oh, yes, some of us here are as sharp as tacks." Cooper delivered the cliché with sharp sarcasm. He turned and glared at the closed door separating his
and Sara’s offices. He hadn’t seen hide nor hair--make that glare nor claw--of her since she’d confirmed what he’d done because she’d been busy. Very busy.

  Nelson interrupted Cooper’s thoughts. "Say, speak of the devil. One of the TV news crews just showed up. I need to go talk to them. Anything else you want me to tell them?"

  "Else?"

  "In addition to the copy you wrote that Ms. Barnes faxed us."

  The copy he had written? Smart women were such a pain. "How about all our profits are going to support a drug cartel?"

  Nelson’s laugh nearly blew out Cooper’s eardrum. "That’s a good one. I’ll stick to what you wrote. Thank you, Mr. Mc--Anders. Goodbye." He clicked off without waiting for Cooper to respond.

  Cooper heaved a sigh at the man’s slip. McAnders. Great. His headache turned the corner to supersize.

  He returned the phone to its base, then rocked back in his chair. She’d done it to him again. Question was, had she told anyone here at Corporate about his attempt to torch the McCoy empire, or did she intend to keep his pyromaniac tendencies to herself?

  It would no longer be her word against his if she told, given the hard evidence, so her leaping at this new opportunity to prove him a liar made sense.

  Joseph would have no choice but to finally recognize that the only thing his newly discovered grandson cared about was bringing down in any way he could the machine that had funded Marcus’s "love-’em and leave-‘em knocked-up" lifestyle. Cooper was as good as kicked out the door without having scored a single decent hit.

  Something dark and needy put the squeeze on his chest, and he told himself it was the thought of never having the chance to avenge his mother. Nothing to do with the way the old man’s arm felt around his shoulder. Or the look of hope in Sara’s eyes. A look undoubtedly replaced by now with anger and disappointment. Maybe even loathing. The squeeze tightened lower, turning his stomach.

  Cooper shoved himself to his feet and strode to the door between their offices. He yanked open the door and continued into her office, barely breaking stride.

  Sara, seated at her desk and writing on a yellow legal pad while talking on the phone, didn’t acknowledge his entrance in any way. He stopped at the side of her desk and crossed his arms over his chest.

  She continued to ignore him. He studied her profile, repeating to himself that he didn’t care what she thought of him or how he made her feel. Didn’t give a rat’s rear about disillusioning her. He’d never once in his life set out to be an honorable man. How could he, with no role model to learn from?

  And why did he have to pick that moment to notice how many tones of rich, vibrant brown there were in her hair when he’d always thought brown was brown?

  Time to end this nonsense once and for all.

  As if sensing he was about to tell her to hang up the damn phone even though she still hadn’t looked at him, she held up her slender silver pen at him. Into the phone she said, "Really? That many?" She wrote down a number. "Wonderful."

  She finally looked at him. Her green eyes--which were actually several shades of green, he now realized--glinted with satisfaction as she listened to the person on the other end of the phone.

  The woman had game.

  "Yes. I’ll let him know."

  Fighting his ever-expanding admiration for her, Cooper raised an eyebrow at her.

  Her attention slipped away as she took her time hanging up the phone. "That was the regional manager of the newest Florida store." She tore off the page she’d been writing on and set it aside. "He wanted me to let you know your idea of delaying the grand opening was a stroke of genius." She looked up at him again, her gaze direct. "His words, not mine."

  Cooper acknowledged the barb with a tight smile.

  She leaned back and angled in her chair to face him more fully. She had a damn near serene air to her, but Cooper sensed a fire beneath the facade. While he admired Sara’s cool, quick thinking that allowed her to remain queen of her domain, he liked her a hell of a lot better when she was sparking and glowing, her passions ruling her world.

  To bring all that heat to the surface, he hitched a leg over the edge of her desk to rest his weight on and crowded her by bending forward, his forearm settled on his thigh. "And what would be your words, Sara?"

  He was close enough to see her pupils flare as her gaze dropped to his mouth briefly. She might as well have lurched up and planted a wet one on him the way his muscles tightened and his blood surged to his lap. But she gave him a measure of satisfaction by pressing herself back against her chair and jerking her eyes to the pen she held. She made a show of studying its slender, tapered form.

  Cooper’s gaze caught on her hands and fingers. Smooth skin, white-tipped. manicured nails of business--appropriate length but still long enough to make a man think about what they would feel like lightly scraping down his back. He stifled a groan of frustration.

  "The regional manager also said the delayed opening generated enough hype that the store is on track to set a record for first-day sales." She acted as if he hadn’t asked for her opinion of him.

  Cooper dropped his chin. A record day in sales. Not exactly what he’d been going for. Talk about a plan backfiring.

  His pride stung, he retorted. "Thanks to my ‘brilliant’ radio ad copy. of course."

  She slanted him a glance that held a touch of surprise. "Of course."

  He snorted and shifted his attention to the papers strewn about her desk. for the first time noticing what a mess the desk was. "Have everything under control, do you?"

  "I’m working on it."

  Her cryptic tone drew his regard. She was looking at him as though he was a kid who refused to learn how to tie his shoes. Suddenly, he craved finding out why she gave a damn if he tripped and broke his neck or not. "Why?"

  She blinked at him, then lowered her gaze to the uncharacteristic jumble of papers filled with hastily scrawled notes and numbers. "Because it’s my job." As if she’d needed the reminder. she straightened in her chair and started gathering the papers into piles.

  He pushed off the desk and paced toward the wall of windows to her right, noting the brilliant blue sky and picture-perfect sunshine. It was a truly fine day to fail so miserably at one’s purpose in life.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Have you told Joseph and Alexander yet?" If she had. he might just have to go to the press and reveal that Marcus had known about his sons all along. And hadn’t given a damn. But only if he could figure out a way to keep his mother’s memory untainted.

  Having the world know she’d accidentally become pregnant with a McCoy child was one thing, but letting out that she'd accepted a million-dollar payoff was another. Even if the money had ended up going to fund her futile fight against cancer. The exchange of money could even get turned around and called extortion. There had to be a way, though.

  "Have you decided to give up seeking revenge for something a dead man did decades ago?"

  He shook his head and laughed. At least Sara wasn’t a mind reader. "Boy, when the McCoys give you an assignment, you stick with it."

  Her chair creaked and he turned in time to see her storming toward him. Finally.

  "No. That’s not why I care." She didn’t stop until she stood smack in front of him.

  Now, this was the Sara he really liked.

  She lifted a finger beneath his nose, the smell of cinnamon strong on her. "I care because you kissed me, then walked away."

  Cooper blinked in surprise.

  "You stopped when you didn’t have to. You were so going to get lucky, mister. But you did the honorable thing and left because--"

  "Whoa, whoa. Back up. I was going to get lucky?"

  He’d been pretty sure she’d kissed him back, but he’d been so caught up in his own response to the feel of her mouth that he’d been unwilling to draw any conclusions. Of their own volition, his eyes dropped to her sumptuous lips as heat spread through him.

  A bright red flush exploded on her cheeks
and confirmed he hadn’t misheard. As if he were blind, she rolled her eyes and waved off the notion. "Like I’m not going to make you pay for what you’ve put me through. But it doesn’t matter. It’s a moot point, because you did the honorable thing."

  That dead horse had been beaten enough already. The stirrings of desire fizzled. "After I’d done the dishonorable thing by kissing you in the first place--"

  "You were just trying to make a point."

  Anger flared in his gut. "I was trying to get you to back off. You think you have me all figured out. You don’t. So it’s time for you to mind your own business.'

  She stepped back from him. "As we’ve already covered. what you’re trying to do is my business."