LITMIR.BIZ

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poles apart there,” he remarked with a smile, directing her into a large kitchen with an adjoining dining room that held a table and chairs, a sofa, a fireplace, two wingback chairs and a bar.

      “What’s for lunch, Rosie? Something smells tempting,” he said, raising a lid on a pot on the stove. A stocky woman in a uniform bustled around the kitchen. Her graying hair was in a bun and glasses perched on her turned-up nose.

      “Chicken soup there and I have quesadillas or turkey melt sandwiches—your preference.”

      “How about soup, plus—” He paused and looked questioningly at Emma. “Either of the choices have any appeal?”

      “Of course. Quesadillas, please.”

      “Good choice. Rosie’s are special. Soup and quesadillas it is. We can help ourselves, Rosie.”

      Bowls and plates were on the counter. With that steady awareness of him at her side, Emma helped herself to a small bowl of soup, surprised when Zach set down his dishes and held her chair as she sat down. The gesture made their lunch together seem far less like boss and secretary eating together than a man and a woman on a date. Rosie appeared with a coffeepot, which Emma declined and Zach accepted.

      When he sat, she said, “I’m sure everyone asks, what drew you to demolition?”

      “A child’s love of tearing something down, probably. I have an engineering degree and I almost went to architecture school. I have architects working for me so we build where we tear down. We build sometimes where nothing has stood. I find it fascinating work.”

      “I hear you go all over the world.” She didn’t add that she knew he was wealthy enough he would never have to work a day if he didn’t want to.

      The Delaney wealth was well publicized. She had never known anyone like him before. His love of travel was foreign to her. His disregard for family and marriage dismayed her even more than his apparent disregard for his family history. He had a lifestyle she could not imagine, but the head of the company was light-years from her clerical job, which provided an excellent way to save money to finish her college education.

      “So, Zach, your favorite locale is where?” she asked as Rosie brought a platter with steaming quesadillas to set between them.

      “There’s too many to have a favorite. I love Paris, I love Torres del Paine, Iguazu Falls, the city of New York. They’re all interesting. Where’s your favorite?”

      “Home with my family,” she said, smiling at him, and he shook his head.

      “Okay, I’ll rephrase my question,” he said. “Where’s your favorite place outside of Texas?”

      She lowered her fork. “I’ve never been outside of Texas.”

      One dark eyebrow arched as surprise flashed briefly in his blue eyes. “Never been outside of Texas,” he repeated, studying her as if she had announced she had another set of ears beneath her red hair.

      “No, I’m happy here.”

      “You might be missing something,” he said, still scrutinizing her with open curiosity.

      “I don’t think so, therefore, that’s really all that matters, right?” she asked, certain after today he would have satisfied his curiosity about her and lunch with the boss would cease.

      “You’re missing some wonderful places and you don’t even know it.”

      She smiled at him again, thinking he might be missing some wonderful family companionship and didn’t even know it. “As long as I’m content, it doesn’t matter.”

      “So tell me about this family of yours and what they all do.”

      “My family lives near me in Dallas. Dad is an accountant and my mom is a secretary. My younger brother works part-time and is in school at the University of North Texas. I’ve taken classes to become a teacher. This semester I didn’t enroll, but I hope to start back soon.”

      “How far along are you?”

      “I have a little more than half the credits I need. Back to my family—in addition to my siblings, I have five small nieces and three nephews. We have assorted other relatives, grandparents, aunts and uncles, who live in the same general area.”

      “Big family.”

      “My siblings and I visit my parents on weekends,” she said. “So do my aunts and uncles. There are anywhere from twenty to thirty or forty of us when we all get together.”

      He paused as he started to drink his water, giving her a polite smile as if she said they spent every weekend at the park so they could play on the slides and swings.

      “My family is definitely not that together,” he said. “We go our separate ways. Dad’s deceased and Mom disappeared from our lives when we were young.”

      “We have different lifestyles,” she said, thinking this was a man she couldn’t possibly ever be close to even if circumstances had been different. His world and hers were poles apart. Their families were so different—hers a huge part of her life, his nearly nonexistent, what with his father being deceased and his mother walking out years earlier. Those events had to influence him and make him the man he was today. This job would be brief and then she probably would never see him again. “The quesadilla is delicious,” she said.

      “I told you Rosie is a good cook. So, is there any special person in your life right now? I assume no one objected to you taking this job.”

      “Not at all and there’s no special person at the moment. As long as I can go home for the weekends and holidays, I’m fine.”

      “I’m not sure I’ve been involved—friends or otherwise—with someone as tied into home and family.”

      “I’m your secretary—that’s different from your women friends.”

      “We can be friends,” he said, looking amused, and a tingle ran across her nerves. In tiny subtle ways he was changing their relationship from professional to personal, something she did not want. With every discovery about him, she saw what opposites they were. This was not a man who would ever fit into her world or her life other than on a physical level. She definitely did not fit into his.

      Surprised that he was even interested, she had to wonder. She had never heard a word of gossip about him even remotely trying to have an outside relationship with an employee. Far from it—occasional remarks were made to new single women to forget about impressing the boss—if they even got to know him—except through efficient work.

      “We can be friends to a degree in a professional manner,” she said, wondering if she sounded prim.

      “Emma, we’re going to be under the same roof, working together for weeks. Relax. This isn’t the office and it’s not that formal. If I have something critical, a letter I just have to get out, an appointment that has to be made by a certain time, I’ll tell you.”

      “Fair enough,” she said, feeling as if their relationship just made another subtle shift. Or was it her imagination because she found him so physically attractive? “So you don’t gather often with the family, you travel a lot—what else do you do?”

      “Most of the time for the past few years my life has been tied up in my work. I have a yacht, but I’m seldom on it. I ski. I have a villa in Italy. I have a condo in New York, one in Chicago and I spend the most time between Paris and Chicago where we have offices. I like cities.”

      She placed her fork across her plate and stood. “That was a delicious lunch. If you’ll excuse me, I should get back to the letters.”

      “Sit and relax, Emma. Those letters aren’t urgent and they’ll be there after lunch. I’m enjoying talking to you. There’s no rush. And I suspect some tidbit will appear for dessert.”

      Surprised, she sat again. “I’m not in the habit of arguing with my supervisor. I don’t think I can

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