Switched, Bothered and Bewildered (6 page)

She flung open the door to Jana Lee's minivan, jumped in, found the keys above the visor, revved it alive, and peeled out of the driveway.

Maybe that wasn't exactly as demure as Jana Lee would have been, either. Oops.

*
    
*
    
*

Dean watched the mistress of the house burn rubber out to the main road and wondered exactly what he'd gotten himself into. She was about as high-strung as a Jack Russell terrier. He scratched his head and looked around at the cutesy floral prints and the stenciling on the kitchen wall. Modern art buff? It was all very confusing. He decided to put her washing machine back in working order instead of trying to figure it out. He got back to his tools and shifted the front panel out of his way.

She was a real puzzle. The house was very homespun and disorderly. Last time he'd been here she'd left all the decisions up to him, even down to the faucet type. Somehow, that didn't match up with the woman who'd dismantled her own washing machine and ordered him to pick her up for a date at seven-thirty.

⁴

Toying with Affections

"Who are you and what have you done with my boss?" Oliver Abbott draped himself on a chair and stared at Jana Lee. He was casually flipping a black pencil back and forth between his fingers, as if it were wagging at her saying
Neener, neener, you're busted.

Jana Lee took a big shocked breath in, then let it out and threw herself face-first on her arms across the glass desktop in despair. "Augh," was all she could muster.

"Let me guess. Jillian Tompkins, aka your twin sister, convinced you to switch places so she could stay in the Serenity Spa longer. Either that, or they locked her up for an extended stay and you are here trying to save her job while she regains her balance. How am I doing?"

Jana Lee rolled her face up toward him. "Pretty damned good. We had a bet as to how long it would take you to see through me. Jillian said one minute. I said ten seconds. She promised to call you as soon as possible today. Oh, and hi, I'm Jana Lee Tompkins Stivers, idiot twin sister." She stuck her hand out from under her face, and he graciously rose up, set down his pencil and notepad, shook her hand, returned to the chair, picked up the notepad and pencil, and reseated himself.

"How do you do, Jana Lee Tompkins Stivers. Well, well, well. What a lovely farce. I'm enjoying myself already. How is sis, anyway?"

"She's finishing her recuperation at my house in
Washington
. No doubt she's burned it down by now."

"No doubt. Domestic skills aren't her forte."

"Am I that obvious?" Jana Lee picked her head up and looked at Oliver.

"Only to the trained eye. And by the way, that was Jackson Hawks who came in here and kissed you. A bit of a complication there, wouldn't you say? I can tell you he's never done that before. It's not a regularly scheduled event like coffee, kiss, and back to work."

"How did you know he kissed me?"

"The gaping silence between dialogue is always a dead giveaway, plus the sound of a slap adds a nice touch."

"You are very observant, aren't you?"

"Lucky for you."

"Who is he, anyway?"

"Vice president of Pitman Toys."

"Yikes. He invited me to dinner." Jana Lee felt herself blush, with terror really. She'd slapped the VP. She'd screwed up Lilian's job in the first hour. Smooth.

"Did you say yes?"

"I. . . didn't have a chance."

"That's
Jackson all over. Kiss and run. He's the bad boy of the office dating scene. No lucky girl around here has ever held his interest longer than, oh ... two dates."

"Wow."

"Let's table Mr. Hawks for a while. I have to say, I adore my Miss Lilian and I wouldn't want anything to happen to her job. I can't imagine working for any of these other cavemen—or women, for that matter. Therefore, I've decided to help you with your little charade. But we've got piles of work to do if you're going to pass for the Queen of Comptrollers."

"The Queen of Comptrollers?"

"That's what Lilian does, you know, she's the comptroller for the company. That means she keeps an eye on the figures. Here, I'll read you her job description."

Oliver slipped a typed piece of paper out of his notebook, straightened up on the chair, adjusted the collar of his navy blue pinstripe suit jacket to

lay perfectly flat, and then began to read aloud. "The Comptroller, or CFO, uses strategic planning and advanced management principles and skills to position the company to meet constantly changing business practices, technology, and legal requirements, including the implementation of and response to regulatory and legislative policy initiatives regarding product safety. The CFO manages a biennial operating budget in excess of 5 million dollars, oversees the collection of approximately 2.9 million dollars in revenue annually, and is responsible for the development and administration of all accounting and cash flow functions within the company'"

"Excuse me while I go throw up. I knew she was the numbers gal around here, but you make it sound so ...
vital."
Jana Lee moaned and rested her head on her hands again. T can't add without a Hello Kitty calculator."

"Hello Kitty? Are you really from the same genetic pool? Jillian is your sister? The Jillian Tompkins that has a master's degree in accounting and business?"

"Don't be mean, Ollie, I've got my talents. I just can't remember what they are at the moment."

Oliver laughed. "Don't worry, I can keep a lid on things for at least a week. Quarterly reports were done in April, so let's see, when is Jillian planning on returning?"

"Next Monday. Maybe we can revamp that plan

and get her back Friday. No wonder she almost had a nervous breakdown. Who could be responsible for all that?"

"Well if we were talking the IBM Corporation here, she'd need shock treatments. But this is Pitman Toys. An infinitely easier gig."

"What do y'all do here?"

"Y'all. That's so cute."

"My mother was from
Louisiana
originally. It rubbed off, I guess. It slips back when I'm nervous."

"Pitman manufactures toys of questionable taste but apparently with enough appeal to the masses to result in a sizeable profit. Most likely you're aware we make the Snotz doll line?"

"God, yes, Jillian sent Carly every last livin' Snotz on the line. How could I forget? Are those still alive?"

"They breed and reinvent themselves every season now, but the last effort was a line called Byker Chikz, and shall we just say that even bad toys have an invisible line of no return. Apparently Byker Chikz went too far with their little tattoos and realistically scaled Harleys."

"Ick. No wonder Jillian didn't send those."

"Carly, I assume, is your child?"

"
Charlotte really, but that's too old-fashioned for her. That was her
Louisiana
grandmother's name." Jana Lee spun in the chair and grabbed Carly's picture as she rotated by. "This is my

daughter. She's fifteen, and she gets more like her aunt every day."

"So Jillian is in charge of the care and feeding of a fifteen-year-old child?"

"Watch it, Ollie, I trust my sister."

"I'm just kidding. She deserves a break, if that qualifies. So, where do you want to start?"

"Lunch?"

"Hours away. How about personnel?"

"Jillian made me a chart." Jana Lee handed Jil-lian's notebook to Oliver. "But she didn't say anything about Jackson Hawks being on the prowl. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact. Something about mistletoe and
Jackson running out the door?"

Oliver leafed through the notebook. "Ah yes, the holiday office party fiasco. Let's start there. That will be most entertaining. You know, if you wanted to, you might leave things a little more interesting than you found them for your sister, if you know what I mean?"

"The thought has occurred to me. So I guess I should keep that dinner date?"

"I would." Oliver smiled at her.

I would too, if I were Jillian,
Jana Lee thought to herself. At least she'd found an ally here. If Jana Lee laid low and relied on Ollie, she might not botch this for her sister as bad as she thought she might.

She'd have to apologize to
Jackson for the slap,

though. Not that he'd seemed fazed by it in the least.

At six promptly
Jackson walked past Oliver Abbott's desk and gave him a passing hand gesture like an unfulfilled high five. He didn't wait for Oliver to announce him through; he just knocked on the tall, sleek mahogany door and opened it in one motion.

He heard a faint buzz from the intercom, but Jil-lian didn't bother to answer it. She seemed to be rearranging herself. For him? She looked embarrassed. That was a first. He'd seen her chew up and spit out cowering research and development people at production meetings.

"Hello. I was just..."

He glanced behind her to the wide window ledge and saw most of this year's lineup carefully arranged in groups of product age groups. Interesting. It almost looked like she'd been playing with them. Tiny Snotz girls were on their tiny skis with tiny parkas and stretch pants on.

"Adding up unit prices?" he joked.

"Urn. Sure. That's it. I wanted a more visual approach, so I had Oliver get the whole set in here," she answered.

"Well, I'm looking forward to our dinner. Are you ready to go?"
Jackson took a step toward her. She held both hands out in front of her, indicating for him to stop.

"Stop!" she yelled.

"Consider me stopped."

"I appreciate your dinner invitation, but we need to address our earlier .. . encounter."

"Address away," he said. She sounded scripted, and he was extremely amused. She must have practiced this speech.

"I sincerely regret my earlier behavior at the office party last December. I hope you'll accept my apologies."

"Consider yourself forgiven. We'd all had too much punch."

"And I'm sure that's what facilitated your. . . your..."

"Returned gesture?" He tried to supply her with a phrase, since she seemed to have forgotten hers.

"Yes. That. But if I'm going to accept your dinner invitation I'd like to ask that we take a step backward and get to know each other before we make any further. . . such, such gestures." She made a sweeping motion to emphasize "such gestures," then took a deep breath and paused, waiting for his reply, it seemed to him.

"That sounds perfectly agreeable to me, and you can tell Ollie I said so."

She looked a bit sheepish, then smiled, put her hands behind her back, and nodded. "Good. Then we're on for dinner. And I'm sorry for slapping you."

"Apologies all around. Are you starved? I am. I

found a couple of great places on Steiner. Are you up for Italian, or a big steak at Izzy's, or how about Asian?"

"Asian sounds good," she answered. She went to the concealed wall closet and pressed the surface. It popped open, and she pulled her black leather jacket off a hanger. He moved to where she was and took the jacket from her, holding it out for her to slip into. As her arms slid into the satin lined sleeves, he couldn't help watching. He moved the jacket up to her shoulders smoothly. She turned around. "Thank you," she said.

"You are welcome, Ms. Tompkins. Shall we?" He offered his arm. If she was going to do this courtship proper thing, he'd play it up for her. Besides, she looked very hot. Her thin silky blouse fluttered open at the neckline despite the scarf she'd so carefully arranged to hide her assets. Those lovely breasts of hers were very voluptuous. Actually much more so than they'd been back in December. A little weight had improved Ms. Tompkins's figure quite a bit.

They exited the office and passed by Oliver's desk. "Thank you for those figures, Abbott, and excellent speech, old man."
Jackson winked at him.

"Think nothing of it, Mr. Hawks." Oliver gave him a wry smile. "Enjoy your evening. I'd suggest Lin Yen for Asian."

That devil Oliver must have had his ear to the

door the whole time. Or maybe he had a line in through the intercom. If he ever decided to
do
Jil-lian Tompkins on her butter-soft black leather bench or her spotless gray mohair wool carpet, he better make sure the switch was flipped to the off position.

Jana Lee and Jackson walked out to the hallway and she dropped his arm, for appearance' sake, he supposed. He let her take a few steps ahead of him, and
Jackson took a long look down his date's backside, appreciating her roundness. He watched her and wondered why she kept looking up at the huge trusses that held the mostly glass ceiling in place over the Pitman offices. She acted as if she'd never seen the place before. Maybe her vacation had given her a new appreciation for their surroundings. It was a hell of a beautiful office.