CHAPTER THREE
Omigosh. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the incredible sight of Pen jumping up and gulping water. It was a good thing there were no flies in the restaurant. The way her mouth was hanging open, she'd have caught them all for sure. Get a grip, Fern, she told herself.
He sat and took several sips of water. "You said they were hot. You didn't say they would make the fires of hell feel cold."
"Oh, come on now. The jalapeno wasn't that hot. Texans eat them like candy."
"What other little surprises do you have up your sleeve? I guess this is your way of torturing the new boss so he'll go away. Why did I ask your advice on what to order?" He wiped his brow again.
She did want the new boss to go away, but she wasn't stupid enough to try to chase him off. Was she?
"I did warn you. You're the one who decided to prove how macho you were." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to pull them back. "Look, I'm sorry about this whole thing. If I warn you about something from now on, just listen. Okay?"
"You'd better believe it. Master of understatement that you obviously are, I'll take even the slightest hint very seriously."
Fern silently thanked her lucky stars that the waiter chose that moment to serve their meals. "Hot plate," he said. The tantalizing smells teased her taste buds.
"Most things on the plate are a little bit spicy, but nothing is hot."
"What do you call a little spicy?" He eyed his plate as if it might jump up and attack him.
"Just take small test bites at first." She pointed to the items on the plate. "Those are cheese enchiladas-not the least bit spicy and very good."
He cut a small piece of the cheese-filled tortilla dripping with reddish-orange sauce. He opened his mouth and took the tiny bite, his hand on his water glass. She felt herself relax as continued to eat.
"That wasn't so bad, was it? Now try a taco." She picked up her own and showed him how to hold the crispy tortilla shell. "If you aren't careful, most of the beef, lettuce, and tomatoes will fall out on the way to your mouth. If you want to make it easier to eat, you can cheat and wrap a soft tortilla around the whole taco. Then you can eat it without making a mess."
Pen wrapped the taco and tasted it. "Pretty good. What's this?" he asked as he pointed to his plate.
She identified the chalupa, refried beans, chili, rice, and tortillas. Soon the only sounds were the crunch of the crispy tacos and the scrape of their forks on the plates. Fern noticed the waiter refilling Pen's water and iced tea glasses several times. He didn't say anything, but he did eat everything.
She told herself to ignore Pen and concentrate on her own food. She considered herself a master of self-control. Her mind always ruled her body. Why were her hormones in control now? She put down her fork and clenched her hands in her lap to resist the temptation to reach across the table to touch his cheek and feel the hint of stubble on his chin.
Did he need to shave twice a day? She had to stop these ridiculous thoughts. She would not drool over any man-especially the man who was here to take away her precious independence.
Pen slid his empty plate further onto the table. He pushed his chair back and stretched his long legs in front of him. Looking from Fern's plate to her face, he asked, "Aren't you hungry? You've barely touched your food."
"I'm a slow eater." Yeah, sure-she was generally the first one finished eating. She often ate her meals on the run, gobbling a sandwich in the car driving between appointments.
"Take your time. We'll go ahead with our discussion while you finish." He took the briefcase from under his chair, put it on the table, opened it, and took out a single sheet of paper. "I've got all the info in the computer, but we'll save that for tomorrow. Tonight I'll just give you an overview of what's coming."
A knot formed in her stomach. She ate Mexican food all the time-the food didn't cause the knot. This man held her future in his hands. Resisting the urge to push her plate away, she moved the food around on her plate until it was a nasty mess. She wouldn't let him see that anxiety had taken away her appetite.
"I'm all ears," she said.
Not hardly, Pen thought. He saw plenty of things she was, and ears didn't even make the list. Beauty, curves, and the sexiest voice in the Southwest were right there at the top. He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair.
"As I mentioned, corporate is eager to change the name Fern's Fancies. Two reasons: number one, it's just not professional. Number two, every branch in the country must be under the same name or the benefit of multiple branches is diluted."
He heard her take a deep breath and noticed her bite her lower lip. She was trying to hide it, but she didn't like this one bit. Branch managers, especially brand new ones, usually treated him with reserve and respect. It took some time for him to interpret their body language. How had he come to read this woman's body language so soon? Maybe because he paid so much attention to that gorgeous body?
"Why didn't anybody tell me this during the negotiations?"
"Fern, Fern, Fern." He shook his head. "There was nothing secretive about it. I'd guess the guys from corporate development didn't even think to mention something so obvious." He wondered why the company negotiators hadn't prepared her for this, but he would never criticize management to an employee.
"Well, thank you. Are you saying I'm stupid not to know something so," she mimicked his voice, "'obvious?'"
"That's quite a stretch. I never-"
Fern interrupted. "Pretend I didn't say that, okay? Can we go back to where you tell me the two reasons for changing the name? Then I'll say, 'Of course, I understand completely.'"
Pen found himself grinning. "That's good. Now, let's talk about how this will be done. You already know about the sign being installed tomorrow."
She nodded without looking at him.
He continued. "Corporate's taken care of letterhead, envelopes, business cards, and forms. We have everything printed in Chicago to standardize paperwork across the country. The only changes are the local address and phone number."
"You said the paperwork would be here in a few days. Is anybody going to tell the customers? Or will they just get an invoice from Ultimate Plant Service with no warning?" Her voice gave Pen goose bumps even when she enunciated each word.
"As the branch manager, you'll have that responsibility." He laid the paper back in the briefcase.
"All the responsibility and no authority-is that the way it's going to be?"
Pen was shocked to see her eyes glistening with unshed tears. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. This woman, an employee, was behaving in a way that could be considered insubordination, yet all he could think about were those flashing eyes that had turned green again. What was wrong with him? He had perfect self-control. Business was business and pleasure was pleasure, and never the twain shall meet. He should take disciplinary action right now. If he allowed Fern to act this way now, she'd become more of a problem for him as time went by.
Something-maybe those unshed tears-held him back from taking action. Was she always like this? The negotiators from the corporate office had nothing but praise for her professionalism. Why was she acting like this now?
"Fern, we've started over once. I'm going to give you one more chance. It's been an hellacious day, and neither one of us is at our best. We'll shelve this discussion for tonight and start fresh tomorrow morning." He closed the briefcase and reached in his pocket for his wallet.
All the time he was settling the bill with the waiter, he watched Fern out of the corner of his eye. He could almost see her reviewing the conversation in her mind.
"Omigosh." She didn't even seem to realize she'd spoken aloud. Obviously, she finally realized what she'd done.
When the waiter returned his credit card, Pen stood and picked up the briefcase. "Are you ready to take me back to the hotel?"
She nodded and followed him out of the restaurant. "What time do you want me to pick you up in the morning?" she asked when they were
in the car headed to the hotel.
"Six-thirty."
"Six-thirty? The office doesn't open until eight o'clock."
"You and I are going to be there at least an hour before opening. I want to check out the morning routine. That means I have to be the first one there." He adjusted the car's air-conditioning vents to blow directly on his face. He was still hot. "You might as well tell Lover Boy you'll be late again tomorrow. We're going to be the last to leave, as well."
"He's ?"
Pen cringed when he saw her bite her lower lip again. Did she have to mutilate herself to keep from saying what was obviously fighting to come out of her mouth?
Fortunately it was a short drive to the hotel. She pulled into the porte-cochere and sat with the motor running. "Good night. I'll see you at six-thirty in the morning."
On the drive from the hotel to her duplex, Fern released her pent-up fury. She said everything she had bitten off while she was with Pen. Said? Actually she shouted, she ranted, she screamed, she pounded her fist on the steering wheel when she was stopped at a red light.
Had she made the worst mistake of her life when she'd sold her business? She'd envisioned herself as a corporate executive and her company with all the resources of a large, national company. Why she hadn't realized her small business-her baby-would just become an insignificant part of the vast corporate world? And that she would be just one more cog in the wheel of a vast corporate machine?
Five o'clock the next morning came too soon, even though Fern wasn't sure she'd slept at all. She forced herself to roll out of bed as soon as the alarm sounded, rather than to punch the snooze button and roll over as she usually did.
She'd made a royal botch of everything yesterday, and now she had to face Pen at the worst possible time of day. Even if she managed to move her body, her brain wouldn't start to work until much later in the day. She cringed to think of all the trouble she could get into before her mind started working, if it ever did in the presence of that infuriating hunk who was her new boss.
A stinging hot shower pounded some life into her body, and the smell of strong coffee opened her eyes. She had ground twice as many beans as usual when she started the coffeepot before her shower in hopes of shocking herself into some semblance of alertness.
At least she didn't like to talk much for the first few hours after she awoke. The knot in her stomach and the tension in her shoulders warned her she couldn't avoid trouble, but maybe it wouldn't be as bad if she kept her mouth shut. That's what she should have done yesterday. It was too late to unsay everything she regretted saying yesterday-she just hoped it wasn't too late to get her relationship with Pen back on track.
She grimaced and shook her head when she tasted the coffee, but she forced herself to drink two cups. She felt almost human by the time she walked out the door promptly at six o'clock. Although the trip to the hotel should only take twenty minutes, she wasn't taking any chances on being late.
When she arrived at the Fiesta, she wondered if being early was such a wise idea. Her overactive imagination had already wreaked havoc with her self-confidence-she'd be a basket case in ten more minutes. She debated whether to wait in the car or in the lobby. Before she made a decision, Pen stepped up to the car and opened the passenger door.
"The early bird gets the worm. In this case, the early Fern gets the boss's approval," he said as he slid into the seat and placed his briefcase at his feet.
"Good morning," Fern answered with as much vitality as she could muster.
"Have you had breakfast?" he asked.
She looked at him. He looked delicious-she didn't usually eat breakfast, but she'd like to gobble him up. Whoa. Her brain might not be awake yet, but her hormones sure were. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel. Why did her hands want to reach over and touch his face? The freshly shaved smoothness enticed her as much as last night's stubble had, and his subtle scent surrounded her.
"Well, have you?" he asked again in an impatient tone.
Had she what? Oh, yeah ? "I don't eat breakfast."
"Well, I do, and the hotel restaurant doesn't open till six- thirty. How about pulling into a drive-through and picking up a breakfast sandwich?"
Fern wrinkled her nose in distaste. "A fast food breakfast sandwich is not breakfast," she insisted.
"It's the closest thing to breakfast I can get at a fast food place, and we don't have time to stop for real food."
"There's a Taco Cabana just a few blocks from the shop. How about breakfast tacos?"
"Didn't we have tacos last night?"
"Those were crispy tacos. Breakfast tacos are potatoes and eggs or ham and eggs rolled up in soft flour tortillas." She recognized the doubtful expression on his face. "They're not hot, I promise. What about it?"
Pen shook his head. "Couldn't be worse than a breakfast sandwich, I guess. Okay, if you promise to eat with me." There was that cocky grin again. "I'm not sure I trust you to feed me unless you eat the same thing."
Fifteen minutes later, Fern pulled out of the Taco Cabana drive-through. A bag of breakfast tacos sat on the seat between them. The smell of potatoes and eggs mingled with the subtle spicy fragrance that had enveloped her the minute Pen got in the car.
Pen inhaled deeply. "Smells good," he said. The food did smell good, but Fern smelled better. She exuded a scent of flowers and sunshine, an aroma much too fresh and wholesome to have such a strong effect on him.
When they arrived at the office, Pen carried the food bag in one hand and his briefcase in the other. Fern unlocked the front door and deactivated the alarm system.
She reached for the bag. "I'll start the coffee while you put down your briefcase."
Without waiting for an answer, she walked down the hall to the small lunchroom. She measured coffee into the basket, and while it perked, she took paper plates and napkins from the cabinet.
She didn't need to hear his footsteps to know the instant Pen entered the room. She didn't remember ever being so intensely aware of a man.
"The coffee will be ready in a minute." She held several tiny plastic cups of thick red sauce. "This is a warning. Do not put this hot sauce on your tacos. It will make you wonder why you thought jalapenos were hot. This stuff is hot." She waved her hand for emphasis.
Pen laughed-the deep rumble that tickled her nerve endings and reverberated throughout her body. "You'd better put it down. If you, the master of understatement, say it's hot, I expect to see your hands burst into flames any minute."
He thought Fern's laugh, high pitched and tinkling, was the perfect complement to his own. He smiled when she became playful. She hurried to the garbage can and dramatically threw in the hot sauce containers.
"Just in time," she said. "I'm saved. See, no flames." She waved her hands in front of his face.
He couldn't resist the temptation to reach out and take her hands in his. "No flames, but maybe I'd better check for burns."