Scorned by the Boss / The Texan's Secret Past: Scorned by the Boss

Glad to have him shift back to business as usual, Caitlyn shifted on her chair, picked up a manila folder and handed it to him. “All the details are right there. The Palacio Estoril is holding your usual suite. Your pilot’s notified, so the company jet will be ready whenever you are. And the meetings at the shipyard are set up. The times are all listed there and the hotel will provide a car and driver.”

He idly flipped through the papers, then glanced at her as he turned to head back into his office. “Get yourself a suite, too.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“I know that, but we may as well both be comfortable.”

“No,” she said, taking a deep breath and holding it just long enough to quiet the ripples in the pit of her stomach. This wasn’t going to be easy. Nothing with Jefferson ever was. “That’s not what I meant.”

Only yesterday, she’d told him she wasn’t getting married and he’d assumed she’d be available for this business trip to Portugal. Now she had to tell him she’d be taking her four weeks off, anyway. And she didn’t want to be sitting down when she did it. Better to be standing on her own two feet and less at a disadvantage.

That thought clearly in mind, she stood up, walked around him to the coffeepot and refilled her cup.

“What’re you talking about?”

“I won’t be going with you to Portugal after all, Jefferson. I’m taking my four weeks’ vacation.”

He frowned and his sharp blue eyes narrowed. “You’re not getting married—why do you need the time?”

“Because I put in for it and I want it.”

He pushed away from the wall and stalked across the room. Stopping right beside her, he picked up the coffeepot, filled a cup for himself and took a sip before shifting a look at her. “It’s not convenient right now.”

Her fingers tightened on the handle of the cup. “Of course it’s convenient. I put in for this time nearly six months ago. Everything’s arranged.”

“Things have changed.”

“What things?” She still had to tip her head back to look at him, and just at that moment, she wished she stood taller than her five feet eight inches.

“You’re not getting married now. Therefore, you’re able to accompany me to Portugal.”

“You don’t need me there, Jefferson.”

Those eyes of his focused on her and she felt the sheer power that shone from the man. “I decide what I need, Caitlyn. And as my assistant, your presence is required.”

She swallowed hard. “Tough.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Setting her coffee cup down—because her hands were shaking—Caitlyn blew out a breath and told herself that if she was ever going to stand up for herself, now was the time to start. “You heard me. I work for you, Jefferson, but I’m not your indentured servant. I put in for that vacation time. It’s mine and I’m taking it.”

He gave her a long, narrowed look. “Take it after the Portugal trip.”

“No. Not this time.”

Damn it, she wasn’t going to cave to him. Not today.

The year before, her bags had been packed, she’d had her plane ticket to Florida in her purse along with the itinerary for the cruise she’d spent three months planning. Jefferson had called just as she’d been getting into a cab, insisting she cancel her plans and accompany him to a shipyard in France. Her cruise to the Bahamas had sailed without her and she’d spent the next two weeks taking notes and in general being Jefferson’s gofer.

Granted, France wasn’t exactly a hardship…though she hadn’t had five minutes to herself to explore the countryside or get into Paris.

And the year before that, her long-awaited trip to Ireland had been cut short when Jefferson flew the company jet into Shannon Airport and insisted she join him for an important conference in Brazil.

So this time Caitlyn was sticking to her guns.

She was going on this trip with her friends, and if Jefferson Lyon didn’t like it…too bad. Caitlyn felt a buzz through her system as she silently declared her own private Independence Day. No more pesky work ethic. No more putting her own wants and needs on the back burner to make sure everyone else got just what they wanted.

I am Caitlyn, hear me roar, she thought, and lifted her chin defiantly as she faced down her boss.

Four

“You’re being selfish.”

“I’m selfish?” Caitlyn repeated, completely flabbergasted that he could even say such a thing. The man who believed the world revolved around him? The man who expected everyone in his life to jump whenever he entered a room? The man who’d ruined every vacation she’d ever tried to take with his own demands? “Are you serious?”

“This isn’t like you, Caitlyn,” he said tightly, his voice dropping to a snarl that usually had his employees in a mad dash for the closest exit.

“No,” she agreed, not even flustered by that snarl. She’d heard it too often to be dismayed by it at this late date. “It’s not like me at all. That’s why I’m doing it.”

“That makes no sense at all,” he pointed out, taking a sip of coffee, then setting his cup down on the credenza beside hers.

“It makes perfect sense.” She threw her hands high, let them drop again and did a quick about-face. Marching away from him for five or six steps, she felt fury rumbling through her, and for the first time in her life, she welcomed it. Stopping dead, she whirled around to face him and pointed her index finger at him accusingly. “You totally expect me to drop everything and do whatever you want me to do. And how can I even blame you for it? My whole life I’ve done exactly what I was supposed to.”

“Admirable.”

“Or weak,” she countered, stalking right back to him. “My parents, my brothers, Peter, you. You’ve all steamrolled over me because I kept lying down on the street and assuming the position. Allowing you all to get away with bossing me around. Well, no more. I’m done.”

“Caitlyn, you work for me.” His voice was deliberately cold. Tolerant. She knew the tone. She’d heard him use it on those who were trying his very limited amount of patience. But Caitlyn wasn’t going to back down.

“I tell you when you take a vacation and when your presence is required,” he said tightly. “I require you with me in Portugal.”

“But you really don’t, Jefferson,” she said, and wondered why she was bothering to repeat herself. He hadn’t heard her the first time; he wouldn’t hear her this time, either. He never heard anything he didn’t want to hear. “The hotel can provide an assistant. Or you could take Georgia with you.”

“Georgia?” His annoyance shuddered in the air around her.

Okay, fine. That was a cheap shot, she thought. No way could Georgia do the job to Jefferson’s expectations. But the point is, he didn’t need anyone with him.

“The work’s done, Jefferson,” she said, trying for calm, despite the way her stomach was jittering. “You’ve made the offer, the papers have been drawn up and looked over by Legal. All you have to do is sign the papers, take a tour of the ship and slap the Lyon logo on her hull. Why do you need me there?”

“Because,” he said, his voice low and tight, “I pay you to be where I need you, when I need you. This is your job, Caitlyn.”

Her head was buzzing. Her blood pumped hard and fast and her stomach did a couple of weird spins. Her job. And she was the first to admit it was a good one. She made a healthy salary, owned her own home—true, a condo, but still a home—and she did darn good work.

But apparently, somewhere along the way, she’d become a piece of office equipment. Steady, dependable, necessary, but as far as Jefferson was concerned, she had no more feelings than the copier that continually demanded more toner.

She hadn’t expected he would take the news of her upcoming vacation lightly. But she also hadn’t expected him to be such a jerk about it. Other people took vacations. Had lives. Why shouldn’t she?

Jefferson Lyon was a man who expected everything around him to fall into line. He walked through life issuing orders with the expectation that they would be followed. Quickly. And as much as that strength and confidence appealed to her, she was just now understanding how hard it was to live with.