But Not For Me. Annette Broadrick

the society pages of the daily newspaper. She knew when he’d stopped seeing one of them by the stack of phone messages he received, pleading with him to call.

      She recalled one night about a year after she had gone to work for him. They had worked late at the office. As usual Brad had offered to feed her. Once they had eaten and he was in a relaxed mood, he surprised her by mentioning a couple of the women he’d been seeing, giving her new insight into his complicated thought processes.

      They had been enjoying their after-dinner coffee when in a rare burst of curiosity, she asked, “I noticed that Caroline Windsor has been calling frequently during the past few days. Is there a problem with your relationship?”

      He winced, making her wish she could cut off her tongue before it got her into any more trouble. “The problem is that she thinks we have a relationship,” he replied gruffly.

      He must have registered her surprise at his comment because he continued in explanation. “You see, Caroline always gets whatever she wants that daddy can buy, which covers a lot of territory, given Carter Windsor the Third’s bank balance. She kept turning up whenever her dad and I met while planning his latest commercial venture, joining us for lunch and suggesting not too subtly that she was available for dinner.”

      He sipped on his coffee and Rachel hoped he would continue with this story, because it sounded like a good one. There weren’t too many—all right, if she were being honest—she didn’t know of any man who wouldn’t be flattered by drawing Ms. Windsor’s attention, giving him an opportunity to get in closer touch with the Carter Windsor dynasty.

      She kept her gaze on her coffee, not wanting to let him see how his remarks had only whetted her no-doubt morbid curiosity concerning his love life.

      “I’m not making excuses in regard to my behavior,” he said after a long pause. “CeCe is attractive, intelligent and never boring. What she can be at times is demanding. She doesn’t like the hours I work because she’s used to having an escort at her beck and call. When I explained that she was free to find someone else since I couldn’t always meet her requirements, she resorted to tears and said things I know she regrets. I realized that if she pictured us as a couple headed toward commitment, I had to step out of her life immediately. So I did.” The firm tone he used indicated that he’d made up his mind. “I’m not sure she believed me.”

      “Hence her telephone calls?” Rachel asked with a slight smile.

      He shrugged. “I guess. She discovered that I don’t play games when she hoped to punish me by not being available when I found time to call. I suppose she wanted to make me jealous.” His smile was rueful. “That doesn’t work with me.”

      “So you aren’t looking for a long-term commitment, I take it?” she asked very casually.

      “I already have one,” he replied, settling comfortably back into the plush banquette.

      Rachel hoped she’d covered her startled reaction. She couldn’t think of anyone who had been in his life for more than a few months since he’d hired her. “I see,” she said. “Have I met her?”

      He grinned. “It’s not a her. It’s this business, Rachel. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

      “Ah,” she replied, feeling a strong sense of relief that he hadn’t been referring to another woman, which was stupid of her. What difference could it make to her?

      “I learned a long time ago,” he continued, “that relationships never work out in the long run. Besides, they take too much time and energy. Most women I know are looking for a husband and a father for their future children. Since I’m not going to be either of those things, I rarely stay with one woman for more than a few months.”

      As the plane winged eastward, Rachel remembered everything he’d said that night. She’d been relieved in a way that she wouldn’t have to witness her boss someday marrying some blushing bride. However, his remarks had also made her wonder why he was so certain he would never marry. She may have been given a glimpse of his fiercely guarded past a few years ago. Janelle had forwarded one of Brad’s calls to her when he was out of town.

      “This is Rachel Wood, Mr. Phillips’ assistant. May I help you?”

      “Not unless you happen to be sitting on Brad’s lap. I want to speak to my son and I intend to speak to my son. So put him on the line. Now.”

      Brad never mentioned his family. She had somehow received the impression that his parents were dead. Obviously she’d been wrong.

      “I’m sorry, Mr. Phillips,” she said, her voice warming, “Brad is out of town. He won’t be back until the end of the week. Would you like me to give him a message?”

      She heard a distinct growl of displeasure before the man said, “Why don’t you do that? Why don’t you ask him why he never returns my phone calls? Why don’t you ask him why he looked through me as though I didn’t exist when he left some mucky-muck’s posh party at the Marriott Hotel last week? And ask him why he refuses to meet me, completely ignoring all the years I spent raising him?”

      More hesitant now, she answered, “Yes, Mr. Phillips, I’ll give him the message.”

      “And tell him I expect to hear from him as soon as he returns to town.”

      “I will,” she said quietly.

      “Oh, and for the record—my name isn’t Phillips. It’s Harold Freeland.” He slammed the phone down, causing her to wince.

      She’d carefully recorded everything the man had said in a memo and placed it in the center of Brad’s desk so that he would see it as soon as he returned. The first time she entered Brad’s office after his return she saw the typed message crumpled in his waste-basket.

      Neither of them mentioned the phone call or the message she’d relayed to him. She’d never felt it was any of her business to ask questions about his parents and Brad certainly hadn’t volunteered any explanations.

      He’d been raised by his father? What had happened to his mother? Did his relationship with his parents have anything to do with his strongly held desire not to marry?

      Who knew?

      That phone call was the only time she’d been shown a glimpse of his life before she’d gone to work for him. She had a hunch she might understand Brad better if he were willing to discuss his childhood with her, but he never mentioned it.

      On the other hand, he’d been wonderfully compassionate when her mother had been diagnosed as terminally ill. He’d told Rachel to stay home with her mother after the surgery that had confirmed the diagnosis, and he’d continued to pay her salary despite her protests. In addition, he’d paid off the medical bills that weren’t covered by her mother’s insurance. Rachel had been heartbroken that she’d been home with her mother for only a few weeks before she succumbed to her illness.

      Rachel had been the one to deal with the arrangements, which was only fair. Both her brother and his family and her sister, who was single, lived in California. Rachel was the one who had stayed home with her mother for all those years.

      She’d lost her mother four years ago and Rachel still missed her. She’d had a rough time adjusting to the loss. Brad had been more than supportive.

      So he had a heart. He just didn’t want the knowledge to get around. The news might ruin his reputation for being a tough, hardheaded businessman.

      “Rachel?”

      Startled, Rachel sat up, opening her eyes. “Yes?” she said, her voice hoarse.

      He grinned. “No, we’re not crashing, so you can relax, if that’s possible.”

      She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

      “Somehow I’ve managed to get the impression during this trip that you’re afraid of flying.”

      Wouldn’t you know his powers of observation would zero in on something