My Man Pendleton(37)
Author: Elizabeth Bevarly

“Screw the report,” McClellan, Sr. interrupted with a smile. “You’re sleeping with my daughter. I see great things in your future, Pendleton. Great things indeed.”

Pendleton swallowed hard, torn between denying the allegation, even though it was technically true, and ruining his boss’s good mood, or conceding that he had, in fact, shared more than just a mattress with his employer’s daughter, and thereby perpetuating a lie, to keep the man very, very happy.

Ultimately, the decision was taken out of his hands when McClellan, Sr. asked, “So, when are you going to marry her?”

That, at least, was a question to which Pendleton definitely knew the answer. With all the vigor and insistence he could muster, he stated quite forcibly, “Sir?”

“Marry her,” his employer repeated. “When’s the wedding? She’s quite a catch, you know.”

Pendleton swallowed hard. “A catch, sir?”

The CEO waved a hand impatiently through the air. “Well, all right. Maybe not a catch. But you do have to admit that she’s one of a kind.”

Finally, an observation with which Pendleton could unequivocally agree. “Oh, yes, sir. I will admit that. Your daughter is nothing if not unique.”

The moment Pendleton had arrived at work, Beatrice told him Mr. McClellan, Sr. was demanding his presence in his office. Naturally, he’d assumed his employer commanded this performance because he wanted a rundown of Pendleton’s Pirates of the Caribbean adventure with the old man’s daughter. The last thing he’d expected upon walking into his boss’s office was for McClellan, Sr. to slap him soundly on the back and say with heartfelt delight, “Welcome back, son!”

But that was precisely what his boss had done. And nothing in Pendleton’s entire life had terrified him more than those words. Or at least, that last word. Son. The way McClellan, Sr. had voiced that word…

All Pendleton could do was remember Kit’s assertion at dinner that night in Veranda Bay, that he was currently at the top of the McClellan’s man du jour list. That list of eligible bachelors who might be gullible enough, greedy enough or misguided enough to marry the madcap McClellan heiress, thereby securing the family fortune for the family.

When it appeared that his employer was going to say nothing more, Pendleton ventured, “May I speak frankly, sir?”

“By all means.”

With some trepidation, he began, “Although your daughter is certainly a lovely person…”

McClellan’s eyebrows arrowed downward in concern. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that, Pendleton.”

“Uh…”he tried again. “It’s just that, um…”

“Ye-es?” his boss asked, stringing the single syllable out over several time zones.

“Well, sir, although I think Miss McClellan is, um…”

“Is what?”

“Is a, uh…”

With his free hand, McClellan, Sr. made a slow, gyrating motion, a silent indication that Pendleton should just please, for the love of God, get on with it.

“Well, she has a great personality, sir,” he said lamely.

McClellan, Sr. frowned. “Uh-oh.”

The softly uttered observation halted Pendleton’s thoughts faster than an electrode to the groin would have. “Uh-oh, sir?”

Instead of elaborating, McClellan, Sr. eyed Pendleton malignantly and asked, “Pendleton, how badly do you need this job?”

Oooh, low blow. “Pretty badly, sir.”

“And can you think of any other corporation in the country that will pay you the salary you’re currently earning in the position you hold?”

Oooh, another one below the belt. McClellan, Sr. sure did fight dirty. “No, sir, I can’t think of another corporation in the country that will pay me what Hensley’s does. And if I haven’t said so already, sir, it’s a very generous package, one that—”

“That’s what I thought.” McClellan, Sr. nodded, triumphantly if Pendleton wasn’t mistaken. “Now then. You were saying? About my lovely daughter and her great personality?”

Pendleton sighed. He was really beginning to hate his new job, despite its generous benefits and pay. “I was saying, sir, that your daughter is lovely.”

“And?”

“And she has a great personality.”

“And?”

“And I find her company to be very…”

“Yes?”

Demoralizing. Uncomfortable. Maddening. Icky. “Delightful,” he muttered, and somehow he managed not to choke on the word.

McClellan, Sr. couldn’t contain his glee. “I knew the two of you would hit it off. The minute I laid eyes on you, Pendleton, I knew you were the man for Kit.”

Oh, God. “Sir?”

“Yes, son?”

Oh, please, no. Not son. Anything but that. “About my report? On priority enhancement to promote productivity?”

“We’ll talk about it at tomorrow’s meeting. Anything else?”

Well, except for that small matter of your daughter having infested my home and, aside from spraying her with some nasty pesticide that might potentially harm the environment, I have no idea how to remove her…

“Nothing, sir.”

“Excellent.”

He prepared to leave, thinking his boss would dismiss him with his usual, cursory “Now get out,” but instead, McClellan, Sr. rose from his chair and moved to the front of his desk. Out of nowhere, he said, “Did you know I once paid a man a quarter of a million dollars to not marry my daughter?”

Pendleton blinked three times, as if a too-bright flash had gone off right in front of his eyes. This really wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with his boss. It had been bad enough having it with the boss’s daughter. In spite of that, he was helpless to say anything but, “Now that you mention it, I believe Miss McClellan did say something about that over dinner in Veranda Bay.”

McClellan, Sr. nodded. “Then I assume she also told you why it’s essential that she be married within two months’ time, too, didn’t she? Something about one hundred million dollars?”

Pendleton pretended to search his memory for the recollection. “Seems to me she said it was ninety-nine-point-four million,” he said.

His employer growled impatiently. “Whatever.”

“Yes, she did mention that, as well.”

McClellan, Sr. nodded. “The man I paid to not marry Kit was a prick, Pendleton. She deserved better. She deserved someone like you.”