The Family Plan (The McClouds of Mississippi 1)

“How could I have known you were going to hire Irene the Terrible?”

“You might want to shut the door to continue this conversation,” she suggested mildly. Waiting only until he’d kicked the door closed, she added, “Irene is a very nice woman and an extremely efficient office manager. I don’t know what you have against her.”

“She’s a tyrant. She has my files so organized I can’t find anything. When I mess them up, she gives me a look over those little glasses of hers that makes chills go down my spine. I feel like she’s taking mental notes of all my shortcomings and she’s going to bring them up when she gives me my annual employer evaluation.”

“She works for you.”

“Right. Has anyone mentioned that to her?”

Shaking her head, Caitlin closed the file and watched as Nathan plopped into a chair, lanky limbs sprawled, sandy hair tousled. He looked like a sulky teenager, she thought ruefully. An extremely attractive teenager, but a handful, none the less. She was almost five years younger than Nathan, so why did she feel like the older one at that moment?

“Irene has only worked for us for three weeks and already she has our office running like clockwork,” she said. “She’s gotten the clerical staff—all three of them—into shape, so that stacks of overdue filing have been cleared away. Our bills have all been paid. On time, I might add. She’s switched to a new phone service that’s saving us 20 percent a month. Our appointment process has been streamlined so that we’ve significantly cut down on the number of clients sitting impatiently in the waiting room.”

“Exactly.” Nathan nodded forcefully. “She’s scary. It isn’t normal to get that much accomplished in such a short time.”

Caitlin couldn’t help laughing. “You’re being ridiculous.”

A sharp tap on the door interrupted their conversation. It was followed almost immediately by the entrance of the woman they had been discussing. The brown and beige jacket Irene Mitchell wore over a straight brown dress did little to enhance her tall, angular figure. Plastic-framed reading glasses dangled from a gold chain around her neck, neat pearl stud earrings completely hid her almost nonexistent earlobes, and a functional watch was strapped around her bony left wrist. Her long, narrow feet were encased in sensible brown pumps. The only signs of frivolity in the woman’s appearance were the color of her heavily sprayed, meticulously curled, red hair and the crimson lipstick that coated her thin lips.

Caitlin noted that Nathan automatically straightened in his chair when Irene entered. He reminded her of a student who had been goofing off while the teacher was out of the room and hoped to hide that fact upon her return. Smothering a smile, she turned her attention back to the office manager. “What can I do for you, Irene?”

The older woman set a stack of correspondence in front of her. “I need your signature on these. The mail runs in an hour, so you’ll need to sign them promptly. Mr. McCloud, your letters are on your desk awaiting your attention. Would you prefer that I bring them in here?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll get to them in a few minutes.”

Irene glanced at her watch.

“Your next appointment should be arriving in fifteen minutes. You’ll want to sign your letters before then, of course.”

Nathan cleared his throat. “Of course.”

Irene continued to look at him.

“I’ll sign them,” he repeated, holding up his right hand as a pledge. “As soon as Caitlin and I are finished here.”

Seemingly appeased, Irene nodded and moved toward the door. “I’ll buzz you when your appointment arrives, Mr. McCloud. And, Ms. Briley, don’t forget about your meeting at two this afternoon.”

“I won’t forget. Thank you, Irene.” Caitlin had invited the office manager to drop the formality of surnames, but she persisted in using them, even though she preferred being addressed by her first name. Caitlin had figured out it was a waste of breath to argue with the woman’s eccentricities.

“I’ll be back to collect the signed correspondence—from both of you—shortly,” Irene added as she let herself out of Caitlin’s office.

Nathan released a gusty breath as soon as the door closed behind Irene. “See what I mean? She’s impossible. You’ve got to fire her.”

Caitlin reached for the stack of correspondence and a pen. “I’m not going to fire her. She’s much too good. And she’s actually very nice—as you would find out for yourself if you would give her half a chance.”

“I’ve given her plenty of chances. I smile every time I speak to her.”

“Ah, yes, the patented Nathan McCloud grin,” she murmured without looking up from her signatures, not surprised that Irene hadn’t fallen for such a practiced tactic.

Ignoring her, Nathan continued, “I’ve tried complimenting her appearance.”

“Plan B—fulsome flattery. That didn’t work, either, I’m sure.”

“I even brought her flowers on her first day of work. She thanked me, then put them in my office because she said they made her sneeze.”

“So none of your usual tricks worked. Have you tried just talking to her? One professional to another?”

“You think that would work?” Nathan asked doubtfully.