The Millionaire's Misbehaving Mistress. Kimberly Lang

have my support—you know that. I also know how hard you’ve worked to build something here, and I’d hate for you to lose ground again.”

      “I know. But I just get the feeling this is the right thing to do. That it’s my chance. I’ve got to try. If not, I’m afraid I’m going to spend another five years playing with place settings.”

      “Then I’ll keep my fingers and toes crossed for you.”

      “Thank you. Now can you come get Letitia and keep her until I’m finished with Evie?”

      “Of course.”

      “And speaking of Evie, can I bring her in to see you this week? Seems she’s going to need a wardrobe.”

      She heard the clicks from the keyboard that meant Sarah was checking her schedule. “I’m free Friday afternoon,” she finally said. “Will that work? Monday morning would be okay, too. Just let me know.”

      “Thanks. I’m already running late so I really have to go. I’ll have my cell if you need me. And remember, discretion.”

      “Genau.” Sarah switched back to English. “Call me tomorrow. I want to hear all the juicy details.”

      “Goodbye.” There will be no juicy details this time.

      The brief foray into German reminded Gwen to go back to her office for her Japanese dictionary and software. If she wanted to promote herself as an expert in Asian relations, she needed to get her fluency back in Japanese. Which meant she was dependent on software for the time being. Hopefully Evie didn’t eat with her feet and she’d have some time to practice…

      As she loaded her car, she questioned her sanity one last time. If all went well, this could change everything for her. If she could just get HarCorp as a satisfied customer, every company in Dallas would be lining up for her services. Heck, HarCorp could open doors for her all over Texas.

      But if Evie wasn’t ready in time…she could kiss most of her clientele goodbye. Sarah wasn’t wrong about her business suffering if the gossip columns decided to portray her as some kind of immoral floozy. But the true Worst Case Scenario was if she didn’t produce the results Will Harrison expected. Unhappy Harrisons spelled certain doom for her entire business—including the debs. No one would hire her for anything if the Harrisons blacklisted her. The Dallas elite were a close-knit group. Alienating one meant alienating them all.

      This was make or break time.

      Nothing like a little pressure to keep a girl on her toes. She shifted into Drive and tried to think positively.

      On a map, Will Harrison’s high-rise building might be only four miles from her funky M Street cottage, but in terms of wealth, Gwen felt like she’d traveled to the moon.

      She stopped under the porte cochere where a doorman met her at her car and introduced himself as Michael. She identified herself, half expecting to be told to move her simple Honda to a less-affluent area.

      “Miss Sawyer, of course. Mr. Harrison said to expect you. Let me help you with your things, and Ricky will take your car to the garage.”

      The helpful doorman made easy conversation as he gathered her gear from the trunk and escorted her to the elevator. “The Harrisons are in Penthouse A.”

      Of course they are. Where else would they live? Michael pushed the button marked P, and she gasped as the elevator sped to the top floor in seconds and deposited them almost directly in front of the door marked A.

      “I cannot believe I’m doing this,” she muttered.

      “Excuse me?” Michael asked from behind her.

      “Oh, nothing.” With one last mental slap to the forehead, she rang the bell.

      She heard a voice shout “I’ll get it!” before the door was thrown open by a teenage girl she had to assume was Evie.

      The girl’s dark red hair was braided into cornrows tipped with colorful beads that swung dangerously as she turned to shout, “Will, she’s here!” She waved Gwen in and smiled at Michael as he returned to the elevator.

      Evie’s casual air and easy manner contrasted sharply with the cool marble elegance of the foyer. Tall and thin in the way only teenagers can be, she wore faded blue jeans frayed at the hems and a gauzy white peasant shirt. While she was barefoot and fresh-faced now, Evie would be a raving beauty once she matured out of the gangly awkwardness of adolescence. Gwen remembered the picture of Bradley Harrison that hung in the HarCorp lobby; Evie must have inherited her amazing bone structure from her mother. Neither she nor Will favored Bradley Harrison at all, except for their eyes.

      Just as she thought his name, Will appeared from a room farther down the hall. Her breath caught in her chest. The suit and tie were gone, replaced by a pair of faded jeans and a snug blue T-shirt that clearly outlined the shoulders she’d admired earlier in his office. Tanned biceps flexed as he helped Gwen bring her suitcase in.

      He, too, was barefoot, and she felt ridiculously out-of-place: overdressed in her suit and sensible shoes and totally dumpy standing next to such perfect specimens of beauty.

      “Gwen, this is my sister, Evangeline. Evie, this is Miss Sawyer.”

      Pulling herself together, Gwen offered her hand to Evie. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Evangeline. May I call you Evie as well?”

      “Ohmigod, you really are Miss Behavior, aren’t you?”

      Gwen ignored Will’s uplifted eyebrows. “Yes, I am. I take it you read my column?”

      Evie bounced on the balls of her feet. “Every single day since Mrs. Gray told me I had to learn some manners. Plus all the archive stuff, too. I’ve learned so much already. I can’t believe Will got you as my teacher! Cool!”

      “Then let’s try this again.” Gwen offered her hand to Evie a second time. “It’s nice to meet you, Evangeline.”

      Evie took the hint and with a sideways glance at Will tried again. “It’s nice to meet you too, Miss Sawyer. Please call me Evie.” Evie shook her hand, but it was a timid handshake. They’d work on that tomorrow.

      “Since we’re going to be working closely together, why don’t you call me Gwen?”

      Evie grinned, and Gwen knew she had a winner on her hands.

      “Evie, take Gwen’s things to her room.” Evie disappeared around a corner, dragging Gwen’s suitcase behind her, and Will lifted an eyebrow at her. “Miss Behavior?”

      “On the TeenSpace site. Kind of like Miss Manners.” He finally guided her out of the foyer and into a living area with another spectacular view of Dallas. The man must really like looking out over the skyline. “That’s why Evie knew what I was talking about there in the hallway. We went over introductions just last week on the site.”

      He nodded and changed the subject abruptly. “Mrs. Gray will have dinner ready in just a minute or two. Would you like a drink?”

      Desperately. But she shook her head and declined. She needed her A-game tonight, and a drink wouldn’t help. Perching carefully in the wing chair opposite his, she tried to make small talk. It wasn’t easy.

      Will picked up his glass from the coffee table and swirled the amber liquid. Scotch? Bourbon? she wondered briefly, then lost her train of thought as he leaned back in the chair and propped his feet on the edge of the coffee table. They were large and tanned, and for reasons she couldn’t begin to explore, oddly fascinating to her.

      “Gwen?”

      She snapped back to the conversation and felt the guilty flush creep up her neck. She’d been staring at his feet, for goodness sake. What on earth was wrong with her?

      She smiled an apology.

      “You can get settled in after dinner. Please make yourself at home. If you need anything, just