The Hamilton Heir Read online

  “You need to convince her to take some time off. That’s one of the reasons I encourage my mother to go to lunch with me or Heather or the others whenever we’re free. Taking breaks is good for her, physically and emotionally.”

  Dawn was staring at him. Tim frowned. “What?”

  A smile started to lift the corners of her mouth and Tim couldn’t help noting for the zillionth time how lovely she looked.

  “Who are you and what have you done with my boss?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You can’t possibly be Timothy Hamilton,” she said with a widening grin. “You just recommended somebody taking time off work. You must be an imposter.”

  Dawn was so burned-out by the time all the post-dinner speeches, stock market presentations and drawn-out goodbyes were over, she could hardly keep her eyes open during the drive home. Tim seemed to be holding up a lot better than she was, but then he was used to the kind of stressful evening they’d just spent.

  “Sleepy?” he asked.

  “Um-hum. I feel like I just ran a marathon.”

  “Do your feet hurt? I notice you took your shoes off.”

  “Not until I got to the car. I didn’t figure you’d be too happy if I left the restaurant carrying them like some hillbilly.”

  “You can’t be a hillbilly,” Tim teased. “You’re from the bayous down South.” He chuckled. “I thought I’d die laughing when you started talking about how to eat crawdads. I nearly strangled as it was.”

  Dawn laughed in spite of her weariness. “You should have seen the look on your face! It was priceless.”

  “You didn’t look very good right after you discovered that tentacle, either.”

  “I was feeling about as green as the lettuce.”

  “Did you have a good time otherwise?”

  “Well, yes, I guess I did,” she answered, mildly surprised to realize how true it was. “All that smiling and ultrapolite behavior sure tired me out, though.”

  “You did a great job.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad I lived up to expectations so you didn’t feel you’d wasted your money on this dress.” She gifted him with a tender smile. “You weren’t so bad yourself. I guess we made a pretty fair team, huh?”

  “I’ve been thinking about us,” Tim said, pausing.

  Dawn’s heart did a little jig and bounced into her throat. “Us?” The one-word question came out sounding like the squawk of a chicken with its head caught between the slats of a picket fence.

  “I mean, we work well together.”

  “Oh, that. Yes, I guess we do.”

  “In case I haven’t told you lately,” Tim said, “I really appreciate all your hard work on behalf of Hamilton Media.”

  I love you, too, her subconscious offered. “Thanks. I do my best.”

  “I wouldn’t want to lose you.”

  Just try it, mister. “I’m perfectly happy where I am.”

  “Good. I need an accomplished assistant like you.”

  What you need is a poke in the ribs with a sharp stick to wake you up, you dummy. Can’t you see I’m crazy about you? She said, “I enjoy the challenge, Mr. Hamilton.”

  “I thought you were going to call me, Tim?”

  You don’t want to hear what I’d like to call you right now, she thought, immediately penitent. The poor guy was trying to be nice, to give her compliments on her work ethic which was the most important thing in the world to him, and she wasn’t a bit grateful. Well, that couldn’t be helped. She’d stupidly fallen for her boss and now she was going to be stuck for who-knows-how-long, trying to keep up the pretense that nothing had changed between them.

  “I don’t know that it’s a good idea for me to call you Tim when we’re at the office,” Dawn finally said. “It seems awfully personal.”

  He reached over and laid his warm hand atop hers where it rested on the leather upholstery. “After your performance tonight, I think you’ve earned it.”

  Dawn felt as if her hand was afire and her arm was slowly melting, bones and all, like a candle lying too close to a hot oven.

  Oh, fine, she thought, giving free rein to her imagination. There goes my secretarial career. How am I going to type if my arm melts off and I’m left with only five usable fingers?

  She snickered.

  Tim pulled away.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I get giddy when I’m overtired. Gabi and I got the giggles one night and were so hysterical we didn’t stop laughing till we both had tears running down our cheeks.”

  “You don’t feel one of those fits coming on right now, do you?”

  “Don’t worry,” Dawn said with a shake of her head. “If I do, I’ll just dump all those extra hairbrushes out of the bag and stuff my head into it till the urge passes.”

  Tim’s incredulous expression was so funny she did start to chuckle. Clearly, he didn’t know how to take her. Well, he wasn’t the only befuddled one. She had no idea how to go about getting him to see her as anything but a capable executive assistant—or whether she wanted to try.

  He was right about their great working relationship. It was admirable. The question was, what was more important in the grand scheme of things: work or life?

  Tim could never answer that because his outlook didn’t separate the two, Dawn reminded herself.

  Pondering that conclusion she was struck with an even more disturbing thought. Suppose God didn’t separate them, either? She’d always believed that the Lord had found her this job in order to put her in a position to help her family financially. If that were the case, how could she argue that life outside the office was all that really mattered?

  Confused, Dawn shut her eyes and let the movement of the car coax her closer to sleep. She could have prayed silently but chose not to. If God had any more revelations in store for her she didn’t want to be enlightened just yet. One thunderbolt of divine wisdom per night was quite enough, thank you.

  After he’d parked in front of Dawn’s apartment in Hickory Mills, Tim watched her sleeping for long seconds, then woke her with gentle words and a light touch on her shoulder. “Dawn? You’re home.”

  She stirred. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks like tiny butterflies. She opened her eyes, looked at him and began to smile. “Hi.”

  Even in the dim reflection of the streetlight her smile was enough to warm him all the way to his soul. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

  “Um-hum.” She stretched and yawned. “Sorry I conked out on you.”

  “That’s okay. I figured it was safer to let you sleep than wake you and chance the female hysterics you’d warned me about.”

  “Smart man.” Gathering up her purse and slipping a finger through the straps at the heels of her shoes she reached for the door handle.

  Tim’s hand brushed her forearm, careful to keep his touch gentle and undemanding. “Wait. I’ll get the door and walk you up.”

  “Are we back to that again? I can manage. Honest.”

  “Humor me? I’m not doing it because I think it’s my duty, I’m doing it because I want to.”

  Her eyes widened. “Okay.”

  The fall night air was chilly when he got out. Tim slipped off his jacket as he rounded the car and held it ready to place around her shoulders.

  He’d thought, from her body language as she stood, that she was going to resist the chivalrous gesture but she didn’t. He laid the jacket across her shoulders and held it there as they walked into the building. Then, she stepped ahead of him to climb the stairs.

  He’d seen that her building was quiet and safe the last time he’d brought her there, so what had made him insist he walk her all the way to her door again? Manners dictated, of course, yet it was more than that. A lot more. It surprised him to realize he didn’t want their time together to end. Somehow, sometime during the evening, the focus had shifted from business to pleasure. He’d actually enjoyed every minute of his time with Dawn, so much so that he wanted to prolong
it.

  She paused at her door and quickly found her key ring in the small clutch. Tim took the keys from her and unlocked her door but made no move to push it open for fear of repeating his initial encounter with her dog.

  “Well, I guess this is good-night,” she said quietly.

  “Yes.” He took her hand, turned it over and placed the keys in her palm. Instead of letting go, he continued to cradle her small hand as he said, “I had an amazing evening. Thank you for keeping me company.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Dawn said. “And thank you for the dress.”

  “You should thank Heather.”

  Dawn was gazing into his eyes and smiling sweetly. “What Heather did, she did on your orders. And with your money. Lots of it. I’m just glad I was able to keep the costs down as much as I did.”

  “It was worth every penny. That dress—you—are beautiful.”

  She reclaimed her hand, used it to swing his jacket off her shoulders and handed the coat to him. “Thank you. You’re not so hard to look at, yourself…Tim.”

  Stepping back, he hooked a finger in the collar of the tuxedo jacket and slung it casually over one shoulder. “See you Monday, then.”

  “Yes, unless…” He watched her apparently struggle to decide whether or not to go on before she said, “We’re having a potluck after the evening church service at Northside tomorrow. Drop in if you’d like to taste some great, old-fashioned, home-cooked food. We’d love to have you.”

  “No crawdads?”

  Dawn shook her head and smiled more broadly. “Nope. Usually just ham and maybe fried chicken. If you want Cajun delicacies you’ll have to go a lot farther South.”

  “Or wait till you make another pot of that soup. It really was good.”

  “I’m glad you liked it. Well…”

  “Right.” He took another tentative step backward. “Good night, Dawn.”

  He watched her turn, enter her apartment and close the door behind her before he started back down the stairs. He hadn’t quite reached the second floor landing when he heard a shriek, followed by his name.

  “Tim!”

  Dawn! Every instinct to protect her came to full alert. His nostrils flared. His heart pounded. Whirling, he raced back up the steps two at a time.

  When he hit the third floor, there she was, waiting for him in the dimly lit hallway! And she appeared to be alone. Thank God!

  Tim grabbed her upper arms, held her fast. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Wide-eyed, she held out the velvet jewelry box. “Your mother’s necklace. I forgot to give it back to you.”

  Tim felt as if a belligerent giant had punched him in the stomach and knocked all the air out of his lungs.

  Still grasping her arms he leaned his head back, closed his eyes and took a deep, settling breath. “Is that all? I thought…”

  “I’m so sorry,” Dawn said. “I panicked when I got inside and saw the empty box sitting there. Please, take the diamonds with you?”

  “Sure.”

  Reluctant to let her go he turned her, then forced himself to relax his hold. “Lift your hair so I can see the clasp.”

  As she did so, her silky tresses brushed his cheek and sent a shiver down his spine.

  He made short work of the necklace and swung it free so he could distance himself before he gave in to the growing urge to really embrace her. He didn’t know when he’d been that frightened and all he wanted to do was celebrate his relief by holding her tight and kissing her senseless.

  Instead, he got control of his emotions and stepped away. “There. Can you handle the earrings?”

  “Yes.”

  Dawn passed him the velvet box to hold while she fumbled with the screw-back posts. When she’d removed both earrings she secured the backs and laid them carefully in the box with the necklace.

  Watching her, Tim was getting the impression she hated the jewelry, was loathe to even touch it. He snapped the box closed and slid it into his pocket. There was enough extra adrenaline coursing through his veins to keep him up half the night. That, coupled with his frustration, wasn’t helping his mood.

  “If you’re done screaming and scaring me to death, go lock yourself in your apartment with your watchdog, where it’s safe,” Tim said, physically turning her once more so she faced her door. “I’m going home.”

  He gave her a nudge, watched her go inside, then waited till he heard the latch click into place. He didn’t know when he’d been more frightened. Probably never. The idea that something terrible might have happened to Dawn churned in his gut and rose like bile in his throat.

  “Women,” he grumbled. If they weren’t driving you crazy they were scaring you to death.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dawn would have phoned Gabi for a session of serious girl-talk right after Tim left if it hadn’t been so late. Although she overslept the following morning and had to drag herself to church she still managed to arrive on time to teach Sunday school, as usual.

  Gabi met her in the hallway outside their respective classrooms and greeted her enthusiastically. “Well? How did it go?”

  “Fine. I had a great time.”

  “That’s it? That’s all? No way, Jose. Come on. Spill it. I want all the details.”

  “Well, let’s see.” Dawn struck a pose, index finger lying beside her cheek. “I didn’t fall off my shoes. I didn’t barf when I accidentally swallowed a squid tentacle. I didn’t lose the borrowed diamond jewelry, but I did scare Tim silly when I hollered at him to come back and get it. I ate real cheesecake and loved every bite.” She paused. “Oh, and I decided I was in love with my boss.”

  “What?” Gabi’s jaw dropped and she stared, openmouthed.

  “Yup.” Dawn gave a little shrug. “You heard me. I think I love Tim Hamilton. Ain’t that the pits?”

  “You just got swept off your feet by the romantic mood last night,” Gabi argued. “Did he make a move on you? Try to kiss you?”

  “No. He was a perfect gentleman. That’s part of the problem. He was so polite it made me wonder if I had spinach stuck to my teeth or something.”

  “Did you?”

  “We didn’t even eat spinach. I was making a joke.”

  Gabi frowned and shook her head. “The joke is how you could think you were in love already. You’ve only had one real date with the guy.”

  “Yes, but I’ve seen him every weekday for nearly a year. I just never viewed him as anything but my boss until he murdered my car and drove me around with the meals-on-wheels deliveries.”

  “One good deed does not make Tim Hamilton a hero.”

  “It’s a lot more than that,” Dawn said. “If you take the time to look beneath his polished exterior there’s a heart of gold. Remember how he befriended Stuart?”

  “Lots of people at Northside take care of others. It’s what this church does. That’s not special, it’s normal.”

  “For us it is. For somebody like Tim, it isn’t. He’s usually all business. Altruism is a big change for him. You said so yourself. There was no profit in it and he was still nice to a lonely old man.”

  “Fine. Give him a medal. Just don’t throw your heart away because of one or two glimmers of decency.”

  “I haven’t thrown anything away,” Dawn said seriously. “Tim doesn’t have a clue how I feel. Nobody knows but you and me, and that’s the way I plan to keep it. The last thing I need is for him to suspect I care about him—at least until he shows me he may share those feelings.”

  “Sounds like the kind of crush a teenager gets,” Gabi said. “If we were still in high school, you could always wait till Tim offers to carry your books between classes and then you’d know he was interested in you.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Actually, no, it isn’t.” Her friend sighed. “Maybe you ought to have a talk with Pastor Abernathy.”

  “Charles David Abernathy has plenty to do without my bothering him about my feelings for my boss.”

  “Oh? And what do
you suppose he feels is more important than the welfare of his flock?”

  “I don’t know.” The six-and-seven-year-olds in her class had started to arrive so Dawn lowered her voice to continue their adult discussion. “I feel the same way about bothering God with trivial stuff. Know what I mean?”

  “Sure,” Gabi said wisely. “Would you care to tell me what you think is important to Him? He made the universe, Dawn. He created the cosmos. Nothing is too big or too small for God.”

  “You do have a point. I’ll think about it, okay?”

  Gabi paused to give her a quick hug. “Okay. And I’ll go ahead and pray you come to your senses, if you don’t mind.”

  Dawn smiled. “Pray away, sister. I need all the divine guidance I can get.”

  “Now that we agree on.”

  Tim had an early tee time Sunday morning. His game was off but he blamed it on the stresses of the previous evening. Images of Dawn kept popping into his head and refused to go away, even when he was trying to sink a difficult putt. He finished the back nine but his score was dismal. He hadn’t ended up that many strokes over par in years and took an awful teasing from his partners, Richard McNeil among them.

  “Hey, nobody’s perfect,” Tim countered as they headed for their cars in the clubhouse parking lot. “Not even me, although I do have my moments of greatness.”

  “Yeah,” McNeil said. “Like last night. You were sure in your element presiding over that bunch of investors.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Of course, you also had the best-looking woman in Tennessee keeping you company, so you should have been riding high. Smooth, buddy. Real smooth. Too bad you don’t play golf that well.”

  “Yeah.” His companions laughed and Tim joined them rather than express his disappointment in his apparent loss of skill. Another morning like this one and he’d be ready to sell his clubs and take up a game he could win.

  Winning was what mattered most, he told himself. Unlike hobbyists such as Stuart Meyers, he didn’t keep refighting the same battles. If he lost, as he had this morning, then he accepted it, put it behind him and moved on. There was nothing to be gained by rehashing failures until they drove you crazy.