Now she wished she'd had two.
She paused long enough to deposit her purse in the bottom drawer of her desk, then steeling herself, walked into Shane's office and closed the door behind her. "What's going on?"
A brief, hard smile crossed his face. Standing up, he walked around the edge of his desk. Then folding his arms across his chest, he sat on the corner of the desk and watched her through narrowed eyes.
Rachel now knew how a rabbit felt staring down a snake. Fire flashed in his eyes and a twitch in his jaw told her he was gritting his teeth. No point in pretending ignorance any longer, she thought, and spoke right up. "You've seen the article."
"Not even going to try to deny it?"
"No."
"So you are Tess."
She smoothed the fall of her skirt, then clasped her hands together at her waist. Her fingers tightened until her knuckles went white. "Surprise."
"I can't believe this." He shook his head in disgust. "I don't even know whether to be insulted or flattered that you've been writing about me all these months."
"I didn't mean for you to find out like this."
"You mean," he corrected, pushing off the desk to stalk across the room toward her, "you didn't mean for me to find out at all."
"Well," she hedged, "yes."
He walked a slow circle around her and Rachel turned slowly, keeping her gaze fixed on him. "Did you enjoy watching me trying to find out ways to identify you? Did you get a laugh out of lying to everyone here? Lying to me?"
She huffed out a breath and mentally scrambled for the right thing to say. But she kept coming up empty. "I wasn't trying to lie to you, Shane."
"Ah, so that was just a happy side benefit."
"I don't know why you're making such a big deal about this," she said, deciding to go on the defensive. "You loved those columns."
"Yes," he snapped, coming to a fast stop. "When I thought they were written about some nameless, faceless jerk. I don't love finding out that I'm the jerk."
She held up one hand. "I never called you a jerk."
"You might as well have," he countered, spinning around and walking back to his desk. He picked up a thick manila file and waved it at her. "I've been going over all the old columns. And now that I think about it, I believe I'm more insulted than anything else. You made me look like a fool."
The knot of tension inside her started to loosen and with it, came a burst of outrage. "I did not. All I did was write about the day-to-day job of working for you."
"And about the women I date."
In her own defense, she pointed out, "I wouldn't have had to write about that if you hadn't put me in charge of buying your make-up gifts, your break-up gifts.
Ordering flowers. Making reservations for you and the Barbies, Bambis and Tawnys of the world."
"Tawny," he muttered. "That's her name."
"You're the one who dragged me into your social life, Shane, so you're hardly in a position to complain about it now, are you?"
"You're my assistant. Who the hell else would I ask to do all that stuff?"
She hitched one hip higher than the other, folded her arms under her breasts, cocked her head to stare at him and offered, "Oh, I don't know … yourself?"
He tossed the folder onto his desk and the columns inside scattered across the gleaming surface. "If you hated your job so much, why didn't you just quit?"
"I did," she reminded him.
"I mean before," he blustered, throwing both hands high. "If I'm such a bastard to work for, why did you stay this long?"
Rachel dropped the angry pose, walked forward and dropped down into one of the twin chairs opposite his desk. Looking up at him, she said, "You were never a bastard to work for. And I enjoyed my job. I just got … "
"Jealous?" he asked.
"No." She jumped to her feet again. "Not jealous, just-I don't even know what. I started writing those articles as a way to vent my frustration. And hey, apparently there are a lot of admins in the city who know just what I'm talking about."
"Yes, but-"
"You said yourself only last week that Tess Tells All is the most popular column in the magazine. You wanted to find her. To offer her-me-a weekly column. You wanted to give her a huge raise and bring her-me-on staff." She watched him and noted the relaxing of his jaw muscles and the tension dropping out of his squared shoulders. "So what's changed, Shane? Only the fact that you found out who Tess really is."
"That's plenty," he snapped.
"From your point of view, I guess so," she acknowledged. "But you have to admit that you laughed at my columns as hard as anyone else."
"That was before. Now … " He turned from her and walked to the windows. Staring out, he said, "You wrote about our nights together."
She swallowed hard and met his gaze when he looked over his shoulder at her.
"Yes."
"Why?"
She shrugged and knew that wasn't an answer. But she wasn't sure she had one to give him. "I don't really know."
"I think I do," he said, turning back to face her again. "I think you wanted me to find out that you're Tess."
"Oh, I don't think that's it," she said, shaking her head slowly.
Shane walked toward her and noted that she took a half step back, as if trying to keep a safe distance between them. Wasn't going to work. He'd had time to think about this. Time to reread her columns with a clear eye.
"You wanted me to know, Rachel. Otherwise you never would have made the mistake of putting my name in the most recent article."
"That was a mistake."
"A Freudian slip."
"Oh, please," she said, backing away as he got closer.
"You wanted me to know because you don't want to quit your job. You don't want to leave The Buzz. You want your own column. You want to stay here. With me."
She laughed shortly. "I already turned in my resignation, Shane. And you accepted it."
"Reluctantly."
"Whatever. The point is, it's done."
She glanced around the room, keeping from looking at him, avoiding meeting his gaze. Shane actually enjoyed watching the usually unflappable Rachel display telltale signs of nervousness.
"No, it's not," he said. "I don't want you to quit, Rachel. I'm willing to offer you the same deal I was going to offer your alter ego."
Finally she looked at him. "You want me to keep writing about you?"
"No," he admitted. "But you're very talented. You're funny. And our readers love your columns. I'm guessing you could find something else to write about. Life in Manhattan. Interviews with other admins. Anything you want."
She thought about it for a long moment and Shane found himself wishing to hell he could read her mind, since nothing of what she was feeling was visible on her features.
"Well?" he prodded, anxious for her answer.
"Tempting," she admitted, backing up again. "But no. Thanks for the offer, but I'm leaving The Buzz, Shane."
Speaking up quickly, he offered her more money. Up to twice her present salary.
Her eyes popped, but still she shook her head.
"It's not about the money and it's insulting to me that you're acting as though it is."
"You want to talk insulted?" he countered hotly. "You've made me a laughingstock all over New York for the last year."
Her lips thinned into a grim slash. "If you hadn't behaved like an idiot, I wouldn't have had so much ammunition."
"Oh, that's perfect."
"Look, Shane," she said, making a heroic attempt at controlling her temper. "You have the CEO position you wanted, but I can't be around you anymore. I just can't do it."
Disappointment gathered in his chest, warred with anger and tightened until he could hardly draw a breath. "Because of what happened between us."
"Partly," she said, nodding. "We can't just go back to our old working relationship, Shane. We can't pretend we didn't … "
Hell no, he couldn't pretend nothing had happened between them. Every waking minute she was there, in his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her.
Felt her. Tasted her. She haunted him and he knew that even if she left, her memory would stay with him. Always.
"So let's just leave things as they are and part friends, all right?"
His gaze locked with hers, he tried to find some way to change her mind. To make her stay. He knew damn well that without her, he might never have won the competition with his siblings.