Rachel wondered if Shane would be this concerned when she turned in her resignation. And if he were, would that change her mind? No. She had to leave EPH. Had to get out into the world and find someone else to care for. Hopefully someone who would care for her in return.
She shook her head as she sat down in the black leather armchair opposite his desk. Taking another deep breath, she steadied her voice. "I doubt this is a whim. She's obviously done a lot of thinking. Probably some soul searching.
People don't just walk away from a good job without a lot of thought."
Which she knew for a fact, since she'd spent the last five months talking herself into doing just that.
He narrowed his gaze on her. "Do you know something you're not telling me?"
"Why would you think that?" Oh, good one, she told herself. Stall without actually lying.
She blew out a breath and tucked a loose strand of honey-blond hair behind her right ear. She worried her bottom lip and said, "Honestly, Shane, I don't see how you're going to keep her from quitting her job when you don't even know who she is."
"We have to find out."
Rachel tucked her pad against her chest and folded her arms over it. "Haven't you had people working on that for months now?"
"Yes," he muttered, then turned toward the bank of windows. Staring down at the snow-covered street eighteen floors below, he added, "I can't understand how she can stay so hidden. Hell, you'd think her boss would recognize himself in her articles."
Rachel mmm-hmmed. "You would, wouldn't you?"
"How could he not?" Shane wondered, more to himself than to her.
"It's surprising, all right," Rachel said dryly. She knew darn well Shane had read every one of the articles she'd written as Tess. And yet, here he stood, completely clueless.
He glanced at her and Rachel caught the glint in his clear green eyes and recognized it. He'd had the same look in his eyes when this competition with his brothers and sisters was just getting started. Shane Elliott simply did not lose well. But this time, he was going to have to deal with it.
"Do you know something about Tess you haven't told me?"
She paused just a fraction of a second, then shook her head firmly again even as she skipped around his question. "She faxes those columns in from all over the city. No one knows where the next one's coming from."
He stared at her for a minute or two longer. Long enough to worry Rachel just a little. Good thing he couldn't read her mind. Although, if he could read her mind, she wouldn't have to quit her job, because he'd know that she loved him and then he'd either be pleased about it or fire her.
"Right," Shane said. "Right." Walking back to his desk, he slid Tess's column into the manila envelope with the rest of the layout for the March issue.
Handing it to her, he said, "Get these to production for me, will you, Rachel?"
"Sure." Glad to be on safer ground, she asked, "Anything else?"
He dropped into his chair, braced both arms on his desk and said, "Just find the mysterious Tess. If she's looking for a new job, we'll give her one."
Rachel turned and left the office and when she'd closed the door behind her, she leaned back against it. Hah. Shane wanted to offer Tess a job? Ironic? Oh, yeah.
She walked past her desk and on down the hall toward production. She glanced to either side of her as her heels sank deeply into the rich scarlet carpet. It was going to be hard to leave this place. It was familiar. Comfortable.
Maybe too comfortable, she reminded herself.
The gleaming glass and chrome offices on either side of the wide aisle were bustling with sound as the staff of The Buzz worked on various tasks. Phones rang, someone laughed and the scent of coffee floated on the warm air drifting from the central heating system.
Rachel smiled at Stacy, the receptionist, as she strolled through the main waiting area. The walls were a clean, pure white, and the art on the walls mostly enlarged, chrome-framed covers of The Buzz. The effect was startling, but eye catching. The idea was to make this floor look up to the minute, fresh.
Exciting. And it worked.
Every floor of the EPH building had its own color scheme and was decorated according to whichever magazine it was trying to promote. Rachel was probably prejudiced, but she'd always thought the eighteenth-floor home of The Buzz was the nicest.
Rachel kept walking, tossing a glance into the small meeting rooms as she walked, smiling in at one or two of the people she passed. The photography lab door was closed and she smiled wryly. Ferria-no last name-was notoriously territorial about her office. Even Shane had a hard time getting past the lead photographer's doorway.
At Production, Rachel stepped through the open door and handed over the manila envelope to the head man's assistant, Christina. Fiftyish, Christina was a single mother of four boys who took no crapola off of anyone-least of all her boss. Her snow-white hair was cut into extremely short layers that hugged her head and highlighted bright blue eyes.
The older woman pushed her silver wire-framed glasses up on her nose and grinned. "I'm thinking about heading out to Lucci's Deli for lunch. Want to join me?"
"Love it," Rachel said, realizing that Christina was only one of so many people she'd miss when she left. "I'll meet you at the elevator at twelve, okay?"
"Excellent."
Walking back to her desk, she felt almost as though she were already saying goodbye. Her gaze swept over the familiar fixtures and faces and she hugged the electrical hum of activity close. She was really going to miss this place.
She loved her job. Loved working for Shane and feeling as though she were a part of something special. Working on a weekly magazine, there was always something happening. An air of excitement, urgency that she would probably never find anywhere else.
But she knew she had to go.
She couldn't stay at The Buzz, working with Shane every day, loving him as she did. It was just too hard. Too hard to make his dates for him, to see him look at every other woman in the world with more interest than he would ever show her. So whether she liked it or not, it was time, Rachel thought, that she left EPH.
Both she and her alter ego Tess were going to quietly disappear from Shane's life.
And there was nothing he could do to change her mind.
By seven o'clock, most of the magazine's employees were gone. Shane walked through the empty office and listened to the sound of his own footsteps on the carpet. Only a few of the overhead lights were on, splashing the shadows with occasional bursts of light. The reflected lights shone against the black expanse of windows and mirrored Shane as he walked toward the elevator.
During the day, this office thundered with the noise of productivity. People laughing, talking, computer keys clicking, phones ringing. But at night … it was like a house emptied of its children.
Quiet to the point of spooky.
He passed reception, where an acre of desk sat dead center of a waiting area.
Twin couches in matching shades of white faced each other across the expanse and on the far wall, the elevator gleamed dully in the overhead light.
Sighing, Shane stabbed the up call button and waited impatiently for the elevator to arrive. If he hadn't answered that phone call from his father a few minutes ago, he'd have been pushing the down button and heading for home to get
ready for his date with … He frowned. What the hell was that woman's name?
Shaking his head, he pushed that question away to concentrate on another one.
Why did his father want to see him? And why now, after the business day?
Patrick Elliott was a hard man. Always had been. More focused on building an empire than a family, over the years he'd become a stranger to his own children.
Shane's mother, Maeve, was the glue that held the Elliott family together. Hell, she was the only reason he and his siblings were still speaking to Patrick.
The elevator opened in front of him and he stepped inside with all the enthusiasm of a man heading to a tax audit. Generic Muzak filtered down all around him, but he did his best to ignore it. He punched the appropriate floor button, and as the doors slid shut again, Shane let his mind drift back over the years.
In all the memories he had of growing up, Patrick was no more than a blurred image on the fringes of his mind. Until one memorable year.
He and his twin, Finola, were the youngest of the Elliott children. And, since they'd been born nine years after their brother Daniel, Shane and Fin were even closer than twins usually were. Growing up, they'd been each other's best friend. They'd fought each other's battles, celebrated each other's victories, and shared the hurts and pains that came along.