Valerie Hansen - Healing the Bosss Heart

July 10, 3:54 p.m.

U nbelievable, Gregory Garrison muttered under his breath, his mood mirroring the prairie storm that was developing outside his Main Street office.

If there had been an award for Grumpiest Boss of the Month, Maya Logan would have known exactly who to nominate. Accepting the position as Mr. Garrisons executive assistant had been a step up in her secretarial career but she was beginning to question her decision to start working for his investment firm, no matter how wonderful the wages. The man was obsessive. And when things didnt go exactly as hed envisioned, he could be a real bear. Like now.

Turning away to hide her amusement, she busied herself at her desk while her employer paced and continued to mumble to himself.

Tall and broad-shouldered, with hazel eyes and chestnut-brown hair, Gregory Garrison was not only good-looking, as many single women in High Plains had noticed since his recent return, he had the kind of forceful personality that competitors and allies alike admired. It was that same unbending, always-right attitude that was so off-putting to Maya. Shed had her fill of that kind of unreasonable man when

Now look what hes doing, Gregory said, interrupting her thoughts. He gestured out the plate-glass window at a young boy riding a bicycle in tight, skidding circles.

She looked up. Oh, that. I thought you were upset over the glitches in the Atkinson merger.

I was. I am, he said. But that ill-mannered little troublemaker is driving me crazy. Look, hes trying to splash mud all over my windows.

Her brown eyes twinkled with repressed mirth. Sure looks like it. Sorry about that.

Well, what are you going to do?

Me? Do?

Yes. There wouldnt be any mud on the sidewalk in the first place if you hadnt insisted on bringing in those planters along the walkway.

I didnt realize theyd overflow if we got too much rain, Maya said. Relax. Tommys not hurting anything. Hes just a kid.

Gregory was adamant. He has no business riding that bike all over town, let alone being out in this kind of weather by himself. Why dont his parents look after him?

She joined her boss in the center of the compact office before answering, Tommys parents are dead. Hes in foster care with Beth and Brandon Otis.

Arent they responsible for him?

Yes, but as far as I know, thats already his third placement and he cant be more than six years old. The poor kid must feel pretty lost. My brothers and I really foundered after our parents were killed, and we werent children. I was eighteen at the time and my brothers were even older.

Thats still no excuse for allowing him to run loose. If hes this unruly now, what will he be like in his teens?

Mentally contrasting her wandering brother, Clay, with their other, more stable sibling, Jesse, she said, Tommyll be fine. He just needs to sow a few wild oats, or in this case, run through a few puddles. Its hot and muggy out there, so he wont get chilled. And the storm seems to be slacking up. Its no big deal.

It will be when he throws mud on my building or loses his balance and crashes into the window or a parked car, Gregory insisted.

Just as he finished speaking, thunder boomed in the distance and made Maya jump. Or gets hit by lightning. Okay. Ill go shoo him away. She raked her slim fingers through her feathery, light brown hair and let it fall back into place naturally.

Will I have to listen to you moaning about your ruined hairdo if you get rained on?

You might. She wanted to add that her short cut was easy enough to dry and style in minutes, but she wanted to make a point. She was a professional business assistant, not Gregory Garrisons servant or gofer.

Never mind, he said flatly. Ill send the little pest packing myself. He slipped off his expensively tailored suit jacket and handed it to her without another word.

Smiling in spite of diligent efforts to keep a straight face, Maya watched Greg stride to the door, jerk it open and step out onto the sidewalk.