Roman-1(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(124)

This problem has been a thorn in my side for months, and no matter how many times I talk to her, Nana blithely ignores my reprimands and keeps playing the field as if she’s eighteen instead of seventy-three.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs Ludwig. I’ll have another talk with her. I can’t make it tonight, so it’ll have to be tomorrow.”

I hear a deep sigh of annoyance and grind my teeth.

Do not get Nana kicked out of another nursing home, Hannah. But it’s so unfair. I’ve been through this for six years, since Mom passed away and Nana’s care fell to me. I love the old bat, but she’s randier than a goddamned billy goat, considering her age, and she keeps getting kicked out.

If they boot her from this one I’ll have to get her a place on freaking Mars.

“We’ll see you tomorrow then. Please try to talk to her. Another infringement will result in expulsion.”

I slam the phone back into its cradle and focus on the task at hand, reminding myself that keeping order in my life is the only way to keep myself together.

I just wish everyone saw it that way.





Chapter Two




My morning is going about as perfectly as a broken down jalopy. It sputters to a start at six, when I get a call from Amber about needing to borrow money to cover her payroll, and gets worse after I walk into my office.

Jordan, as usual, is running late, and the meeting he’s set up with Mr Lucas is in five minutes, with Jordan nowhere near ready to present a pitch for the shipping company’s latest campaign.

I like every aspect of putting together a proposal, but I am no ad exec, and now it’s up to me to pretend the guy has actually done his job. I know nothing about shipping or even why a company like Lucas’ would need a campaign, so I am not exactly the right person to be doing the job.

Mr Lucas arrives five minutes early, while I am frantically trying to gather as much data on the previous campaigns as possible. Jordan, of course, has hidden the info I put together last night, and now I am scrambling to get something in order.

I hate this. I hate chaos and disorder and the repercussions of not being prepared. This is why I’ve divorced my ex-husband Tom and imposed such strict control over my life.

Things are so much easier without complications, and I live to ensure my life is as clutter-free as possible. I’ve put Nana in a nursing home instead of hiring on a nurse for just that reason.

My life is perfectly ordered.

Or it should be. Go figure, my boss, my job, would be one of the areas in my life that is becoming uncontrollable.

“Good morning, Miss Newman.”

I look up from the folder I have put together and make an effort to smile as butterflies invade my belly.

“Good morning, Mr Lucas. May I get you something to drink or eat while you have a seat?”

God, please say yes, I beg silently, striving for a calm I do not feel in his presence. The man makes my knees weak with nothing more than a smile, and I know I am not capable of presenting anything worthwhile to him while he keeps that steady sherry gaze on me.

“He’s late, isn’t he?” he asks sardonically.

What can I say? He’ll see right through a lie, and making excuses for a man who can’t tie his own shoes without help is not in my job description.

“Yes.”

“Coffee then, if you don’t mind,” he finally says, holding my eyes captive as he hikes his pants and lowers himself onto the sofa across from my desk.

I practically run from the room to get away from that penetrating stare, and return a few minutes later with a cup of Italian roast and a fresh blueberry muffin.

“There you go, sir. Can I get you anything else?”

He accepts the coffee with thanks — good mannered too, dammit — and waves me over to the sofa.

“You can tell me what you know about my company while we wait.”

I want to crawl into a ball under my desk and pretend this messed up day hasn’t started yet, but I obey with a slight nod instead and seat myself a good three feet away.

“Well, to be honest, I haven’t really read up on your company. I don’t know anything. I assume you’re into shipping—”

“Yes, but the ad campaign I want is for the cruise line side of things, not the trade,” he explains, and I blush.

I should know this.

“You have a cruise line?”

“Yup. We branched out about six years ago to take advantage of the growing industry. A lot of money to be made in expensive luxury holidays, despite the economy, so I bought an old line and revamped it. We offer the best in luxury,” he explains, and I see his eyes take on a seductive light when I realize my skirt has ridden up my thighs and I’m showing a bit too much skin for comfort.