High-Powered, Hot-Blooded

She reached the last envelope and winced. It was from the college, probably reminding her that tuition had to be paid. As she opened the envelope, she thought about her sad little bank account and wondered where she was going to find the money. Everything was so expensive. Maybe after the holidays she should get serious about finding a second job. One that…

Annie stared at the single sheet of paper. The one that said the tuition had been paid for for the rest of the year. Not just the quarter but the year. Paid in full.

Just looking at the total made her feel queasy. But the big “Paid” next to it wasn’t possible. She hadn’t and it wasn’t as if Jenny had suddenly come into a bunch of money.

Annie walked into the house and looked through the mail again. There was also an envelope from Julie’s college. The letter said the same thing. Tuition was paid for for the rest of the year. In full.

The shock made sense. The information, not to mention the action required, was unexpected. Before last night she might have been a little upset but more grateful. Now she felt all twisted up inside. Confused and slightly tarnished.

Dropping the rest of the mail, she returned to her car. The drive to Duncan’s office wasn’t far. His shipping empire was run out of a huge complex of buildings close to the Port of Los Angeles. She gave her name to the guard at the gate and had to wait while a series of calls were made. Finally she was given a visitor’s parking permit and directions to where she should park.

She passed large warehouses and eighteen-wheelers waiting to be loaded. There were dozens of people walking and driving in every direction. Following the signs that pointed to the corporate offices, she managed to find the visitors’ parking spaces and make her way into the six-story building.

It was an empire and a half, she thought as she stood in the lobby of Patrick Industries. A huge lit board showed a world map. Thousands of lights indicated the location of various company vehicles. Little icons indicated trucks, railcars and ships.

Annie had always known Duncan was a rich, powerful man. But those were just words. They hadn’t been real. An intellectual understanding wasn’t the same as looking at that map and seeing how incredibly successful he was.

She tugged at the sleeve of her oversize sweater, aware that the Christmas elves dancing across the front and back of it were great for a kindergarten classroom but a little out of place in corporate America. There was a big paint stain on her skirt and the back was wrinkled from the time she’d spent sitting on the floor while reading to her students.

“Ms. McCoy?”

Annie turned toward the speaker. A well-dressed woman in her thirties smiled.

“Mr. Patrick is expecting you. If you’ll follow me, please.”

Annie nodded.

They took the elevator to the sixth floor and stepped out onto a quiet floor of conference rooms and offices. People in suits moved purposefully, barely glancing at her. She followed the woman to an open double door. Inside, a middle-aged woman nodded.

“You can go right in.”

Annie stared at the tall, wood door in front of her. It looked heavy and impressive. Unexpected nerves danced in her stomach.

Still clutching the letters from the colleges, she opened the door and walked into Duncan’s office.

The space was even larger than his condo. Big windows overlooked the shipping yard on one side and the lobby on the other. Apparently this particular king enjoyed looking at his empire.

His desk was practically big enough for a plane to land on. There was a grouping of sofas in one corner and a conference table in another.

The man himself sat looking at a computer screen. He tapped a few keys, then glanced at her and raised his eyebrows.

“An unexpected pleasure,” he said as he stood and walked around the desk.

He looked good. Too good. She’d seen him in his tailored suits before, so that wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. Maybe the problem was less than twelve hours ago, she’d been in his bed and they’d both been naked. They’d slept in a tangle of legs and arms, only to awaken and make love again.

He stopped in front of her. “Everything all right?” he asked. “You look pale. Don’t you feel well?”

Apparently unable to speak, she thrust the letters at him, then managed to find her voice. “You did this, didn’t you? I won’t even ask how you got the information to make the payments. It was the twins, wasn’t it? You talked to them.”