Husband from 9 to 5 Read online

  THE OFFICE GRAPEVINE

  Letter to Reader

  Title Page

  Acknowledgments

  Books by Susan Meier

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Copyright

  THE OFFICE GRAPEVINE

  Barrington Corporation News Bulletin

  Vol.1 No. 3

  March

  • Rumors abound about Molly Doyle and her sexy boss, Jack Cavanaugh. The latest news is that Molly has lost her memory and thinks she is married to the high-powered businessman. Close friends of the pair say this charade may lead to the real thing....

  • Congratulations to Sophia Shepherd. She’s been named executive secretary to Rex Barrington III. However, the mystery surrounding “The Third” continues—we hear even Sophia still has no idea what the man looks like!

  • And, did anyone know Rachel Sinclair was almost engaged to her boss? Unfortunately, he was transferred and didn’t propose before leaving. But Cupid may get the chance to strike again—confidential sources say Nick Delaney is under consideration as the new director of accounting and may return to Barrington....

  Dear Reader,

  March roars in like a lion at Silhouette Romance, starting with popular author Susan Meier and Husband from 9 to 5, her exciting contribution to LOVING THE BOSS, a six-book series in which office romance leads to happily-ever-after. In this sparkling story, a bump on the head has a boss-loving woman believing she’s married to the man of her dreams....

  In March 1998, beloved author Diana Palmer launched VIRGIN BRIDES. This month, Callaghan’s Bride not only marks the anniversary of this special Romance promotion, but it continues her wildly successful LONG, TALL TEXANS series! As a rule, hard-edged, hard-bodied Callaghan Hart distrusted sweet, virginal, starry-eyed young ladies. But ranch cook Tess Brady had this cowboy hankerin’ to break all his rules.

  Judy Christenberry’s LUCKY CHARM SISTERS miniseries resumes with a warm, emotional pretend engagement story that might just lead to A Ring for Cinderella. When a jaded attorney delivers a very pregnant stranger’s baby, he starts a journey toward healing...and making this woman his Texas Bride. the heartwarming new novel by Kate Thomas. In Soldier and the Society Girl by Vivian Leiber, the month’s HE’S MY HERO selection, sparks fly when a true-blue, true-grit American hero requires the protocol services of a refined blue blood. A lonewolf lawman meets his match in an indomitable schoolteacher—and her moonshining granny—in Gayle Kaye’s Sheriff Takes a Bride, part of FAMILY MATTERS.

  Enjoy this month’s fantastic offerings, and make sure to return each and every month to Silhouette Romance!

  Mary-Theresa Hussey

  Senior Editor, Silhouette Romance

  Please address questions and book requests to:

  Silhouette Reader Service

  U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

  Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Eric, Ont. L2A 5X3

  HUSBAND FROM 9 TO 5

  Susan Meier

  Published by Silhouette Books

  America’s Publisher of Contemporary Romance

  Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Linda Susan Meier for her contribution to the Loving the Boss series.

  Books by Susan Meier

  Silhouette Romance

  Stand-in Mom #1022

  Temporarily Hers #1109

  Wife in Training #1184

  Merry Christmas, Daddy #1192

  *In Care of the Sheriff #1283

  *Guess What? We’re Married! #1338

  Husband From 9 to 5 #1354

  *Texas Family Ties

  Silhouette Desire

  Take the Risk #567

  SUSAN MEIER

  is the author of eight category romances. A full-time employee of a major defense contractor, Susan has also been a columnist for a small newspaper and a division manager of a charitable organization. But her greatest joy in life has always been her children, who constantly surprise and amaze her. Married for twenty years to her wonderful, understanding and gorgeous husband, Michael, Susan cherishes her roles as mother, wife, sister and friend, believing them to be life’s real treasures. She tries to convey the beauty and importance of loving relationships in her books.

  Chapter One

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  Molly Doyle peered up from the ad she was revising to see her boss—tall, dark, and devastating Jack Cavanaugh, director of advertising for Barrington Corporation—standing in her doorway.

  With both hands braced on the door frame above his head, Jack easily filled the empty space. His olive green plaid suit coat hung open, revealing his plain green tie and the white shirt that hugged his broad chest and trim waist. His dark brown hair was ruffled enough for Molly to know he’d probably combed his fingers through it a time or two during the course of the gruelling afternoon. The untidy waves boyishly tipped to his forehead, accenting serious brown eyes that sparkled with warmth.

  Molly just barely checked a sigh of appreciation. “Yes, I’m coming,” she said, pronouncing every word carefully to keep herself from stammering because the man was simply too sexy for a sane woman to remain composed when she was in the same room with him. But Molly was in even worse shape than the average sane woman. She’d worked with Jack for over four years and in that time had fallen hopelessly in love with him. He wasn’t merely an attractive man to Molly. No, to Molly Doyle Jack Cavanaugh was perfect. Just looking at him made her weak-kneed.

  Unfortunately, not once in four years had she detected that she had the same effect on him. If the truth were known, Molly would have to admit she didn’t seem to stir up any kind of feelings in him at all—which was why she carefully hid hers. He had breakfasts, lunches and dinners with nearly everyone in their department. Most people considered him a confidante. But Molly had yet to have anything beyond a superficial conversation with him. Some of her friends hypothesized that that might be because he had feelings for her, too, and didn’t know how to show them so he was afraid to be alone with her. Others thought she and Jack weren’t close in the way the rest of her department was because she didn’t have any problems for Jack to solve. The final few figured Jack was thick-skulled and bullheaded, and if anyone was going to make the first move, it would have to be Molly.

  “I’ll be there in a minute. I wanted to take one last peek at...”

  “Uh-uh-uh,” Jack said, and strode behind her chair. Before Molly realized what he was about to do, he pulled her seat out from under her desk. When it was free, he grabbed her arms and forced her to stand. “I said no one works late tonight. We’re going to Mahoney’s. Drinks are on me, remember?”

  Little pinpricks of awareness radiate outward from the places Jack touched. For the next ten seconds Molly was lucky to remember her name, let alone the plans Jack had made for tonight’s celebration. She took a minute to regain her equilibrium by clearing her throat. “Yes, I remember.”

  “Good. Get your jacket,” Jack said, and headed for her door. But he stopped suddenly. “You do have a ride, don’t you?”

  She was tempted, sorely tempted, to tell him no, if only to test out everybody’s theories. If she told him she didn’t have her car, he’d undoubtedly invite her to go with him. Then he’d have to take her home
. And maybe, just maybe...

  She shook her head as if clearing a haze. She had her car. If she left it here, she wouldn’t have a ride to work in the morning. Besides, he knew she drove a little white Lexus, a gift from her parents. If he spotted it as they were walking toward his Blazer, he’d know she lied, and she’d blow everything because she couldn’t see wholesome, honest, honorable Jack Cavanaugh marrying a liar—no matter how good her intentions.

  “I have my car. This way if I want to leave early—”

  “No one’s leaving early,” Jack interrupted, grinning. “This is a celebration. It was incredible that we got that magazine layout in on time. We all deserve a night out. And tonight’s the night.”

  “Yeah. well, tomorrow’s still Thursday.” Molly said briskly. Needing a minute to recover from the effects of that grin, she turned away from him to gather her jacket and purse from the coat tree beside her putty-coloted filing cabinet. “And some of us work better with eight hours of sleep,” she added, meeting Jack at the doorway.

  Jack motioned for her to precede him, then flicked off her office lights. “So sleep in. I don’t expect to see anybody working in this department before ten tomorrow morning.”

  “But Mr. Barrington—”

  “Gave me complete control of this department,” Jack said, finishing her sentence. “If he has a question, he’ll come to me and I’ll explain. That’s what bosses are for.”

  He punctuated his sentence with a light tap on the tip of her nose, and it was then—right in that second—that Molly realized her fantasy of someday marrying Jack Cavanaugh was absolutely pointless. In a sudden flash of insight, she saw that the tap personified exactly how he felt about her. He treated her like a kid. Specifically he treated her like an errant younger cousin. She and her friends hadn’t figured that out because they didn’t want to. Each and every one of them wanted to believe Jack Cavanaugh was the man of her dreams. So—in various and sundry forms, modifications and excuses—that’s what they saw.

  But the truth wasn’t quite so romantic. After over four years of working together. Jack Cavanaugh still judged her as too young to even be his friend. There was no way he was ever going to see her as a peer, let alone a woman or a lover.

  By treating her like a kid, Jack as good as told her there would never be anything between them.

  In a sense she had just been dumped.

  Because Jack went back to his office for his briefcase, he and Molly parted company before they reached the elevator. Crushed by her realization, Molly sighed heavily as she strode across the parking lot of Barrington Corporation toward her car, not even noticing the sweet scent of the spring air or the warmth characteristic of March in Phoenix. The weather was mild enough that she didn’t need to put her all-weather coat over her fawn-colored silk blouse and brushed denim trousers. It hung limply over her arm, as lifeless and listless as she felt.

  When she reached her Lexus, she opened her door and jumped inside. But two seconds before her coat would have covered the latest package from her parents, Molly stopped it.

  She knew what was in the box. Tapes. Her parents were Dominic and Darcy Doyle—success coaches, business gurus, the king and queen of self-help and infomercials. Every time they cut a new tape, they sent the first copy to her. And every time they sent her a new tape, they expected her life to turn around overnight.

  She didn’t have the heart to tell them that she hadn’t even listened to the set of tapes that made them their first million, but she suspected they knew it from the fact that she was still a copywriter in the advertising department for Barrington—the same job she landed right out of college. There was no way she could explain to two supermotivated motivationalists that she simply had no desire to someday rule the world. What she wanted more than anything else was to be a mother. Once she met Jack Cavanaugh, she thought her fate had been sealed. Cupid’s arrow hit its mark and she fell head over heels in love with a man with the body of a Greek god, the compassion, patience and kindness of a saint, and the warmth and personality of the boy next door. One look at Jack and she knew her dreams of home and hearth were right on target. This was the man with whom she was destined to share her life. This was the man with whom she was destined to raise her five children. She knew it as surely as her parents knew that time management was essential to goal setting. It was almost as if a picture had formed in her head, and she could see Jack, their five kids and even bits and pieces of what their house would look like.

  She hadn’t confided to her parents that being an only child had caused her to long for home and family. It wasn’t her intention to make them feet guilty. It wasn’t even Molly’s intention to fill a void. Her desire was more like a quest, like a destiny. If the world still needed a new ruler after her kids were in college, well, then, maybe she’d give her parents’ tapes a try. But for now—at least for the past four years—her heart, her soul, her every waking minute had been committed to the dream of marrying Jack Cavanaugh.

  The only problem was, she’d failed.

  In fact, if this afternoon’s encounter was any indicator, Molly would have to admit she hadn’t merely failed, she’d never been in the ball game.

  Sighing again, Molly picked up the box, then smiled. Her mother had added the easy-pull string. One yank on the strategically placed strand and the box would be open. Her parents were so predictable...but in a good way. And, frankly, all they ever really wanted was for Molly to be happy. Unfortunately, to her parents, happiness translated into promotions, material possessions and a certain amount of fame. They worried about her because she didn’t get promotions, she lived in a cheerful, but tiny, apartment, her car was only top of the line because it had been a gift from them, and—as for fame—she didn’t have any. No one, absolutely no one, knew who she was. People didn’t recognize her as the daughter of the supersuccessful Doyles. Doyle was such a common name, no one knew she was the sole heir to a small fortune.

  In a sense she understood why her parents worried about her. Maybe she was even starting to agree with them. After this afternoon she realized she was nothing but a silly dreamer. Jack Cavanaugh wasn’t ever going to see her as anything more than his copywriter. She wasn’t ever going to have his babies. It was time she forgot that foolish daydream and got on with the rest of her life.

  Chewing her bottom lip, she yanked on her mother’s easy-open string and opened the box. The smooth vinyl case inside read Think Your Way to the Top by Dominic and Darcy Doyle. Her parents’ faces smiled at her from beneath the title. She could have sworn that when she perforated the plastic wrapper, her mother winked.

  Without further thought, Molly extracted tape one, entitled “See It, Be It” and popped it into her tape deck.

  When Jack Cavanaugh entered Mahoney’s, he scanned the dimly lit bar, searching for Molly. God only knew what had gotten into her over the past few weeks, but something was wrong. He’d come to depend on Molly for much, much more than copywriting, and just as he was on the verge of asking her to take the position as his assistant and giving her total control over certain areas of their department, something happened. She couldn’t seem to concentrate at meetings anymore. She didn’t seem all that interested in their work. Then, this afternoon, when he gave everyone the opportunity to take a break, suddenly all she wanted to do was work.

  Something was wrong. He knew it. But unlike everyone else in their department. she’d never allowed him to get close enough to her that she would confide in him. But tonight that was going to change. Tonight he planned on sticking to her like glue, until she was comfortable enough that she would break down and tell him her problem. Then, big brother that he prided himself on being, Jack would help her solve her dilemma and all would be right with the world again.

  The six members of Barrington’s advertising department had already assembled at a table in the corner, but Jack strode to the bar to order three pizzas and to make arrangements to pay for anything bought by anyone in his group. Then he ordered a pitcher of bee
r, gathered a few extra glasses and headed for the table.

  “Hey, boss,” Bryce Patterson. the short, bald ad man said, as he rose to relinquish his seat at the head of the table. “You sit here.”

  “No, no. This is fine,” Jack argued, taking the chair beside the department receptionist, Julie Cramer. Julie was a tall, sultry brunette, who always had trouble with her boyfriend. Tonight Jack would probably spend a few minutes counseling her on what to do to keep her relationship intact, so he decided he might as well get that done early. Particularly since he wanted plenty of time for Molly. Wherever she was.

  “That was a great campaign we finished this afternoon,” Jack said, pausing when he heard the front door open. He glanced over his shoulder, saw a man in his early twenties sauntering to the bar and faced his group again. “It was nothing short of a miracle that we finished the magazine segment this afternoon and got it off before deadline. Mr. Barrington will be thrilled.”

  “I’m just glad to be done,” Bryce said, hoisting his glass as if in a toast. The other members of the department agreed by raising their glasses, too.

  Jack also raised his glass, but hastily glanced behind him when the door opened again. Two women in their early thirties entered, probably stopping for dinner, but no Molly.

  Where the hell was she? She’d left a good ten minutes before he did. They would have taken the same route. So how did he get here before her?

  Jack was on the verge of guessing that she’d chosen not to join the department for this celebration when she walked through the door. She brought the fading rays of the day’s sunlight with her and, shrouded in the light as she was, Jack had the impression that he was looking at an angel. Light glistened off her shoulder-length blond hair, her hazel eyes sparkled. To see the ethereal vision standing in the doorway, with her strangely contented smile, he would have never known this was the same woman he’d been so worried about. She was perfect. Happy. Healthy. Tall, thin, beautiful. Incredibly beautiful.