At Your Service, Jack. Brenda Hammond

made a detour into her room to fetch her notebook and more reference material. In one corner of the kitchen she’d noticed a small built-in desk. For the moment she could make use of that. Tabby had suggested Jack could benefit from her office and administration skills. He’d soon find out what a mistress of organization she was. If she succeeded in being efficient, after a week he wouldn’t know what hit him. Smiling to herself, she remembered the look on his face when she’d walked in with the breakfast tray. Score one for Elliott.

      HAVING RECOVERED from his astonishment at his butler’s achievement, Jack sat savoring the last half cup of coffee. Appreciation for the meal overcame his chagrin at being bested. Now that he was finished, he set the tray aside and got up. Once shorts and a spare T-shirt were shoved into his gym bag, he went through to his en suite bathroom to comb his hair. Reflected in the mirror stood the business whiz of the western world. Sooner rather than later, people were going to recognize his genius. If it hadn’t been for the downshift in the economy, he’d be there already. As it was, instead of easily getting funding to develop the applications for his product, he’d been forced to go to Uncle Avery who had reservations about Jack because of some important negotiations he’d botched five years ago at the age of twenty-four. In spite of subsequent success, that black mark hadn’t yet been erased.

      Jack rolled his shoulders back. No good dwelling on such things. It was time to get the blood running. Today he was looking forward to his exercise session. Maybe he’d be able to sweat out the contradictory feelings he was having about Elliott. On one hand, he wanted her gone, out of his life. On the other, he was hooked on the vague notion that he’d been dreaming about her in gloriously vivid Technicolor. She was getting to him, invading his space, and he couldn’t imagine having her around 24/7. But he was enjoying what was swiftly becoming a battle of wits.

      It might be an idea to give dear cousin Tabitha a call.

      He got through immediately.

      “Tabby, what the hell do you mean by sending me a woman?”

      “Freddi?” Her voice sounded suspiciously airy. “She’s exactly what you need, Jack. Believe me, if anyone can save you, she can.”

      “I’m sending her back.”

      “No! Don’t. Either Simon or you have to take over from Uncle Avery when he retires. You don’t want to hand Si the job on a plate. So far, he’s looking like a certainty.”

      “You mean, because he’s Uncle Avery’s godson?”

      “Right. And I’m sorry to tell you, he’s been spreading rumors about you again.”

      “Oh yeah? No doubt saying I’m uncouth and wayward.”

      “Er, yes…. Look. Give Freddi a chance. I’m certain you’ll find she’s the best thing that ever happened to you.”

      “Guaranteed to get me Uncle Avery’s approval, is she?”

      “That’s what I hope. Part of it, anyhow. She’ll sort you out, put you right so that you can’t put a foot wrong.”

      There were a few seconds of silence while he absorbed that.

      “Um…Jack?” Tabby’s voice sounded tentative.

      “Yeah.”

      “There’s only one thing I have to insist on.”

      “What’s that?”

      “This is awkward, but I know you’re an honorable man.”

      Nice to know someone had faith in his good qualities.

      “I try to be.”

      “So please, what I want to ask is, don’t even think of Elliott as being female.”

      Jack laughed, but even he could hear it sounded phony. “The way she looks, all buttoned up in that hideously severe uniform, stopping myself from hitting on her won’t be any problem at all.”

      “I want you to give me your word on that.”

      He was silent while his memory nudged him back into the wisps of a dream, and reminded him of how he’d reacted when he’d carried her up to bed yesterday. “Why is this so important?”

      “Partly because that’s the agency’s policy, and partly because…well, Freddi went through a bad time just recently.” Tabitha paused, and then repeated, “So please, promise me, Jack.”

      “I don’t think I can quite do that. Proximity, you know. All I can say is, I’ll try. Anyways, I’m busy with a dating project.”

      “Don’t say that.”

      “What? You don’t want me to date?”

      “Of course I do. We all know Uncle Avery’s emphasis on the right partner in life. But it’s the ‘anyways’ that bothers me.”

      “Excuse me? You want me to date both ways?”

      “Stop it, Jack!” Tabby sputtered between her giggles. “‘Anyway’ is singular, not plural. So don’t say ‘anyways.”’

      He gave an exaggerated, put-upon sigh. “Wish I could just stay plain Jack and not have to learn all this trivial stuff.”

      “I know it seems trivial, but decisions often hang on impressions rather than facts. And remember, my dastardly brother is scheming to be top dog, number one, the fella with all the power.”

      “Tabby, I just want to get on with the job. Why must I be sucked in?”

      “Because you know it would be a disaster if Simon took over the reins…It’s the family, Jack. You can’t avoid it.”

      She had him there. As much as he tried, he couldn’t shake off the family feeling, partly because he felt responsible for the legacy of his father. After asking Tabitha how she and her husband were doing, Jack hung up the phone, not exactly satisfied, but at least a bit reconciled to the situation.

      He went running down the staircase and paused at the bottom. Something was missing. He distinctly remembered…Freddi’s luggage was gone. She’d taken the hint and removed herself, gone back to England. Great. The whole episode was a hideous illusion. Although he still wasn’t too sure about that dream.

      He strode into the living room to retrieve his wallet, and paused when he reached the empty coffee table. His wallet was no longer where he’d left it. Either he’d been burgled in the night or his woman butler was still at large.

      Now, where was she? Scanning the surroundings, he had the idea that the whole place looked neater, which meant she must be somewhere around. He listened. Not a sound…except a rustling, like a page being turned. He headed to the kitchen to investigate.

      Freddi sat with her back to him, working at that stupid desk that was too tiny for him.

      Time to needle her a little bit. “Busy already?”

      She half turned in the chair. “Just preparing some notes.”

      “Surely you’ve got a memory.”

      She sent him an admonishing look. “I don’t like to take chances.”

      “No? Wasn’t coming over here taking a chance?”

      “I, er, I was more or less forced into that.”

      “Forced? How?” This sounded intriguing.

      Her mouth pressed into a prim pout. She had no intention of going into details, crying on his shoulder, although she had to admit, Jack’s shoulders were temptingly broad. “There were circumstances at home.” She shut the notebook and stood up. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Carlisle, it’s not done to ask personal questions.”

      “Is that so?” Her denial increased his desire to know. He slid one hand into his back pocket, in the process pushing his pants down an inch lower. Her eyes flickered to his waist and away.

      “Yes,