Give him her number. Eat his cake. Return his inviting smile.
"We can't both work here, Sterling. It makes people say things." It made her think things.
He carefully set the forks on either side of the cake, then gave her a very sober look. "I do owe you an apology, Paige."
She tensed, wishing she wouldn't risk touching him if she brushed past to get to the door.
"In my defense, I didn't intentionally start people talking back then. I really did think you and Lyle had set me up. That's why I never tried to stop it. The gossip didn't take off until after I was gone so I didn't realize how bad it became for you. No woman should have to feel threatened like that, especially a kid. I should have talked to you when you called, but I was mad. I'm sorry."
She couldn't find her voice. He remembered that she'd tried to call him? She swallowed. Finally managed to nod jerkily. "Okay," she choked, worried about the burn in her eyes and the back of her throat. She would not cry. No way.
She looked toward the door, silently willing him to leave.
He just sat there staring at her.
"Okay," she finally said. "I didn't set you up. Dad was just being a dad. His reaction was sexist and old-fashioned and he was probably drunk. I can't apologize for him because I don't think his behavior should be excused, but I didn't expect or want him to beat you up." She waited some more, face hot.
Still he didn't move.
This was hell.
"Are we okay?" he asked.
"I told you, I don't hold onto things. But other people do." She looked behind her, toward the window that looked onto the factory floor. This was so hard. "Small town, small minds. People are going to talk if we're both here. I'd rather you weren't."
"They'll learn very quickly that saying things out of turn isn't a good career move."
She snorted, but she wanted to believe him. At the same time, she didn't want to see him every day. The tension would kill her. She licked her lips.
"I don't understand why you want to be here, anyway. A few days ago, it wasn't on your agenda. If you're not taking over, what will you do?"
"How many sales calls are you intending to take?"
"Oh, please. Hiring a qualified salesman isn't tough when you know people. Both your father and I do." She reached for the objects on the shelf and started loading them into the box he'd handed her.
"Could you agree on one?"
"Fair point. We didn't agree on you."
He snorted, saying something like, "You'd be surprised," but before she could do more than glance at him, he was continuing. "You two need someone running interference. Mediation is one of my many skills. Did you know that?"
"Well, mediate this back to your father. I am a voting partner. Neither of us is in a position to hire key personnel without consulting the other, especially if it's nepotism."
"Are we talking about me or your brother?"
She paused, bit her tongue while riding out the hot and cold of impotence. His job was one of the few things Lyle sobered up for. He really needed it.
"It's only a few weeks, Paige," Sterling said in a conciliatory tone.
"Then why the big announcement downstairs?"
"That was my mother. It's easier to let her throw a party than to talk her out of it. And you are the only person I know who doesn't like free cake."
Swinging to face him, she opened the buttons on her suit jacket, hot from this confrontation and really wishing it was over. "Tell me the truth. What's the sudden attraction to working here?"
He checked out her breasts. She totally caught him.
Her heart tripped, then leapt with something like guilt when someone opened the door without knocking. Walter. And Olinda behind him.
Fresh heat flooded her cheeks and she pivoted to grab blindly at the last piece of factory litter, moving it off the back shelf and into the box.
After a brief pause that stank of interrupting something clandestine, Olinda said, "You are here."
Walter said, "I thought you were taking a tour."
Sterling came to his feet. "We're on our way now."
"I don't need a tour," Paige said.
"Yeah, you do," Sterling said.
"I'm cleaning."
"You're almost done."
Paige slowed down on her restoration of order project.
"Oh, take the tour," Olinda said. "I haven't done anything all morning and I have a busy afternoon. The last thing I'm prepared for is an audit. Gawd, Paige, is it really necessary?"
"No," Walter said.
"Yes," Sterling said at the same time.
Paige turned to see both men locked in another battle of wills. Oh, joy.
"Change their minds, Walter," Olinda said. "And Sterling, before I forget. Your mother said to tell you your new position here means you ought to be more visible."
"More-?" He frowned, perplexed, then sighed and moved to stand next to Paige, leaned his big body way too close to hers as he opened the blinds with a rasping clatter. "Visible like this? Oh, yeah, she sees me now. Hi Mom." He waved.
Olinda came to stand beside him, waved as well, more earnestly, then said, "I'd better get to work. It's a payroll week. But you and I have to talk," she said to Paige. "An audit? Really?"
"With a little therapy and a bottle of ibuprofen, most people survive them."
Olinda shook her head and left.
Paige glanced at the men, waiting for them to follow Olinda.
"If you want a tour, I'll do it." Walter said to her.
She'd rather be dragged naked down Main Street by a forklift.
"It will have to wait. I have a lot to organize-"
"Let me, Dad," Sterling said. "I need a few more minutes with Paige, to convince her I'm allowed to work here. Can you believe she wants to fire me?"
Walter drew in a deep breath, running his thumbs behind his lapels as he did.
"You talk pretty damned big for such little britches, woman. This is my damned company, it will go to my son, and he has more damned right to be here than you do." His lapels got a final, authoritative jerk. "If I say he works here, he damned well works here."
"Okay, good, Dad. She gets the message. I'll handle it from here." Sterling pushed his father out the door and closed it.
Paige left her mouth hanging open so he could see the accusation when he turned back. "Mediation? You're a jedi-master all right."
"Yeah, sorry about that." Sterling closed one eye in a wince. "I could tell he wasn't going to back me up the way I wanted him to, but now he will."
Her mouth opened again of its own accord, but only a, "Ha!" came out.
"Cheer up. You have me on your side-"
"Mmm, yes. I see that."
"-and he'll fall into line behind me. It'll make things easier in the long run. You'll see."
Chapter Eight
Paige gave him that dark look he was starting to think of as something special she reserved for him, loaded with resentment and contempt.
Snatching the filled box off the chair, she forced him back a step by pressing it into his hands. "Take this on your way out."
"Paige."
The door opened and his mother waved the clean cake knife in her hand toward Paige, where she still stood in front of the window. "People are waiting with questions and concerns, Sterling."
"Please. I don't want to keep you," Paige said to him pleasantly. "Go. We're done here."
"You're coming with me," he reminded.
His mother's gaze went from where Paige's shirt buttons were cut in an open V to emphasize her breasts, down to where it nipped in to fit her waist, and ended with the six-inch slit in the front of her skirt. There was a matching slit at the back, he'd already noted, which guaranteed his mother would be calling the outfit ‘fast' over dinner tonight.
He liked it.
"Give me a moment to put this knife away and I'll go with you," his mother said with forced brightness.
Sterling was not in the mood for a chaperone.
"Good idea, Mom, because I was going to ask Paige about Rosie's situation. We could discuss how you and your church ladies could help her out."
"Rosalee Bodnar?" Her tone said, Oh gawd no.
"Could you?" Paige asked. "She's staying with us because she can't afford rent. Lost her job. She's in a real fix."
His mother's mouth got so small it almost disappeared. "Well, we have a modest fund. Not much. And there's the used clothing and household items in the church basement."
Paige drummed her fingers on the edge of the desk. "I notice no one's moved into the house behind Dad's since she was in it last year. Is it available?"
"Oh, no," his mother said quickly. "I mean, Sterling said it's in terrible disrepair."
"That's too bad. I'll give her your number, though, if that's all right?" She looked so sincere.
Sterling cradled his jaw and draped his fingers over his lips, hiding his smile.