Serenity (Inevitable #5)(13)

Matthew stared at her gap-jawed. "How the hell did you guess all of that? Are you calling restaurants now to make sure I ate all my food like a good little boy?"

Elena snickered. "Even I'm not that anal. No, I can tell from the food stains on your shirt, tie, and lapel. And before you ask, the stain remover wipes are in your middle drawer, left hand side."

He grinned. "What the hell would I do without you, Elena?"



       
         
       
        

She smirked knowingly. "Starve to death, forget to attend meetings, have no idea where to find anything, and work eighteen hours a day. So you'd better never fire my ass, boss, because you'd be up a creek without a paddle for damned sure."

"You know that's never going to happen," he assured her gently. "You're of more value to this company than I am."

She gave a very unladylike snort. "You don't need to lay on the BS this thick, boss. It doesn't work with me, as you should have learned by now. Hey, it's my job to look after you, a job I like and that you pay me really, really well for. And you've sort of grown on me after all this time. Not to mention the fact that I can't abandon you now, can I? Not under the circumstances."

Matthew's expression sobered. "No, that's for sure. In fact, I don't know how I would have coped these past few weeks without your help. Not just here at the office but with all the domestic stuff, too. I'm still not sure I know the difference between the washing machine and the dryer."

Elena gave him a severe look. "You sound just like my boys did when I shipped them off to college for the first time. I'll tell you the same thing I told them - you're smart boys, smart enough to get into a good college. And if you can figure out stuff like calculus and physics you can damned sure learn how to operate a washing machine or an oven. And since you're supposed to be some sort of genius with - how high is your I.Q.?"

He shrugged. "Depends what sort of scale or test you're referring to. On the Stanford-Binet scale, I'm a 150. But if you use a different method, then the numbers could range anywhere from - "

Elena waved a hand impatiently in dismissal. "Yeah, yeah. You're super smart, I get that. My point is if you're that smart you ought to be able to operate something as simple as a microwave or a coffeemaker."

He grinned. "You'd think so, huh? But some wise-ass Latina once told me that brain smarts doesn't always mean common sense smarts."

"And she was right. As always," retorted Elena. "Now, quit wasting my time, boss, and let me get back to work. You've got a conference call in twenty minutes, so you'd better get ready for it."

"I'm on it." He paused before heading inside his office, gazing down fondly at the fiercely efficient woman who more than earned her very generous salary keeping him organized. "I really did mean what I said before, Elena. I'm not sure how I'd be getting through everything right now without your help."

"I'm happy to do it," she assured him somberly. "I've been through a divorce myself, you know, and it was pure hell. Which is exactly where I hope that bastardo ex of mine is rotting at this very moment." 

She didn't add that in her opinion Lindsey should be residing in the same location as her despised ex-husband. Elena was probably the most candid, outspoken person Matthew had ever met, but she had just enough diplomacy to know when to keep her mouth shut. In the years she'd been working for Matthew, Elena had never once badmouthed or complained about Lindsey, even though he was convinced his wife had frequently treated his PA like she was the hired help.

But Elena had never needed to come right out and say anything after she'd taken a phone call from Lindsey, or left Matthew a message from her. It had been very obvious from the scowl on her face or the ferocious expression in her dark eyes that she was good and pissed off. And when he had confided in Elena about his separation and imminent divorce from Lindsey, the fiery Latina had nodded and mumbled something in Spanish that he was pretty sure meant "well, it's about fucking time".

As he went over his scribbled, barely decipherable notes for his upcoming conference call, Matthew heaved a disgruntled sigh, wondering for at least the tenth time since he'd tossed Lindsey out of the condo where and when everything had started falling apart so epically.





Chapter Three




His brother Patrick had often liked to joke that the two of them - along with their younger sister Jackie - had been destined even before they were born to become nerds. After all, both of their parents had chosen career paths that were generally considered to be on the nerdish side - their father Wade was a tenured, highly regarded professor of advanced mathematics at the University of Wisconsin, while their mother Maureen also worked at the university as a research scientist in Biophysics. With both parents possessing IQ's in the highest levels, the likelihood of all three Bennett children also having the potential to be geniuses had been exceptionally high.