Page 8 of Miss Understanding

After I filled her in on the details about my boss’s father, she sat there with her mouth open. “You actually told him to pick up the fucking phone?”

“I did. I apologized later. He reminded me not to make a habit of calling him by his first name.” I rolled my eyes at the memory. “At least he didn’t fire me. By the way, can I borrow your large suitcase?”

“Yeah, of course. Wait. You have to take all of these files with you?”

I didn’t see any other option. “Yeah. He didn’t give me a choice considering he told me to deal with it.” Again, it irked me. Most of the files had already been scanned in electronically.

She sighed. “At least tell me you’re staying in a posh hotel for the week?”

“Hardly. Although it should be interesting to see my boss’s face when he discovers what I booked.”

* * *

Not only was Liam Davenport messing with my weekend plans by insisting I go on this trip with him, but he was also causing me some serious back pain. I had to lug my medium suitcase with my clothes plus the large suitcase borrowed from Chloe, full of about fifty pounds of case files. Of course, that didn’t include my carry-on suitcase which had the most confidential files in it along with a change of clothes. While I was pulling my bags inch by inch through the hour-long check-in line for economy, I had no doubt my boss was probably in the first-class lounge enjoying a cocktail.

Bastard.

I winced at the internal thought. Maybe he was sad in his own robotic, icy, dickish way. Who wouldn’t be after losing a parent?

Finally, after dropping off my two bags at the check-in counter and paying the extra bag fee, which I needed to remember to expense back to him, I got in the security line. Once through that, I put my shoes back on and glanced at the time. I was cutting it close. Frowning at my phone, I read the text message from Liam. He was formal even now.

“Ms. Tate. Where are you?”

“Coming up on the gate now.”

Since he was tall, standing over six foot, it wasn’t difficult to spot him. Of course he looked devastatingly handsome in his charcoal gray suit with a soft blue dress shirt. Damn, I hated when he wore the blue shirt. It only served to highlight his eyes of the same color. Not fair since the devil should really have black, beady eyes.

“Cutting it close, aren’t you?” Those were his first words which he coupled with a frown of disapproval.

If I ever wondered if I could be attracted to my boss, he only needed to open his mouth to assure me that would never happen. “Yes, well, I had a load of bags to check, and it took a while.” I blew my bangs out of my face, feeling as if I’d already sweat through my navy jersey knit dress. I regretted not wearing pants.

“How much stuff could you possibly need for a few days?”

“Most of it are the files you wanted to come with us.”

Both his brows shot up. Then his face did this thing I could only describe as between a twitch and a cramp. Yep. Definitely a face cramp.

He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please tell me you didn’t put confidential case files in your suitcase, which is now being tossed around before getting shoved into the baggage compartment?”

I was tempted to say: Fine. I won’t tell you I indeed put the case files in a large suitcase to be gently handled and put safely in the belly of the plane.

I didn’t often get defensive, but what did he expect? “Yes. I did. You didn’t give me a lot of options when you said not to ship them.”

“I’m sure if we looked at the statistics, we’d see airplane luggage is lost more often than FedEx packages. Jesus.”

Huh. The vein on the side of his cheek was throbbing. Evidently, he was really pissed off about my choice to put the files in a suitcase. Hoping it might mitigate his annoyance, I offered up, “I have the red, confidential files in my carry-on.”

“With you?” He glanced down at my small pink suitcase.

It would be what carry-on means. “Yes. In my carry-on.”

“Then, what’s in your other suitcase?”

“All the rest of the files.”

This time there was no mistaking his throbbing temple. “You brought all of the files?”

“You said to bring the important ones. I had no idea which ones those were.”