Had the woman really thought Andrew was no fun in bed, or had that been her bitterness talking? Nicole found it hard to believe Andrew’s former fiancée had found fault with his lovemaking; in that area, at least, he was surely all any woman could desire.
But had Ashley been correct when she’d said that Andrew wasn’t capable of really loving anyone? It was the only accusation Carole had made that Nicky really worried about. Probably because it was a question that was never far from her mind.
12
ANDREW WAS HAVING trouble concentrating on work again Friday afternoon, something that had been occurring with disconcerting frequency lately.
He’d been sitting at his desk all morning, trying to immerse himself in correspondence and reports. He usually liked total silence when he concentrated, so the door to his luxurious, soundproof office had remained closed. His staff rarely approached him at work unless he summoned them, or unless they had something vitally important to report to him. He’d had several hours of solitude and silence that morning. And it was driving him crazy.
It was almost enough to make a man want to keep a cat in his office. Just for the companionship.
He thought of the cat waiting for him at home. The orange stray that he’d impulsively adopted, that Nicole had named Solomon. That thought, of course, led right back to Nicole—who was really all he’d thought much about that day, anyway, despite his halfhearted efforts to concentrate on work.
She was moving out this weekend. She’d been casually bringing up her plans since she’d first mentioned finding the apartment last Friday. Each time she’d started talking about it, Andrew had either changed the subject or gone stonily silent.
He couldn’t make her stay at his house if she didn’t want to, he thought, but he had no intention of feigning enthusiasm about her new place.
He shifted restlessly in his chair, and the frame squeaked. The shrill sound practically echoed in the silence of his office. Suddenly spurred to action,
Andrew planted his hands on his desk, shoved his chair backward, and pushed himself to his feet.
He had to get out for a while. Away from the silence, away from his thoughts.
He threw open the door and went through the reception area. His secretary’s desk was unoccupied; she’d taken a late lunch. Andrew hadn’t eaten. Maybe he’d head down to the cafeteria, he decided. He ate there occasionally, though not often, since his presence seemed to intimidate the employees who lunched there.
He tried to slip in unobtrusively. He made his selections—a bowl of vegetable soup, a cornbread muffin and a fruit compote for dessert—from the deferential food servers, and then carried the tray to a small table in one corner of the room. Those diners who spotted him straightened in their seats and nodded respectful greetings. A few glanced at their watches and hastily headed back to work.
He wasn’t an ogre, Andrew thought irritably as he slid into his chair. Hardly a cruel taskmaster. He’d made it his practice to leave the daily supervision of employees to his personnel director and the individual department heads. He occasionally hired or fired within the higher echelons of the corporation, of course, and he knew more about what went on within the company than some might have thought. But he’d never flogged anyone.
Just because he wasn’t one to go around grinning or making small talk all the time, did his staff have to act as though he might bite them if they called attention to themselves?
He wouldn’t have minded engaging in a casual conversation, as the others around him were doing with their co-workers. He liked human companionship as much as the next guy, when he wasn’t trying to concentrate on a business problem. But how was he supposed to enjoy a conversation with people he intimidated so badly?
As he ate, he searched the room for one of the company executives, rather disappointed when he didn’t find any of them in the cafeteria. The executives tended to be somewhat more comfortable with Andrew, though he wouldn’t call his relationship with any of them particularly intimate.
His father and grandfather had always warned him not to get too friendly with people who worked for him, even in high levels of the corporation. Doing so, they’d told him, was asking for trouble. He might as well extend an invitation for employees to take advantage of him. Friends were to be cultivated within one’s social circle, not within the business environment.
He was beginning to question some of the advice the other Andrew Tylers had given him. Carefully following their suggestions had left Andrew without any friends to speak of. And it had taken him thirty-four years to realize it.
A sudden squeal from across the room caught his attention. He watched as a group of women, who hadn’t noticed him, suddenly leapt out of their seats and descended on the blushing, red-haired young woman who sat at the head of the table. They hugged her and patted her back, making Andrew wonder what the celebration was about.
Whatever it was, everyone certainly looked happy, he thought a bit wistfully.
“Hey, Marty!” one of the women called to a young man in another corner of the room, whom Andrew recognized as a clerk in the shipping department. “Guess what. Donna’s going to have a baby!”
From all around the cafeteria, people drifted over to the table to shower felicitations on the beaming young mother-to-be. Andrew quickly finished his lunch, torn between pride that his employees apparently maintained a pleasant and friendly working environment, and a touch of envy at their comfortable camaraderie.
He disposed of his tray and used dishes, then crossed the cafeteria. One by one, the chattering group fell silent as they watched him approach.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Tyler,” one of the older women spoke up bravely. “We were all just about to get back to work.”
He nodded, trying to keep his expression pleasant. He was aware that this lunch shift wouldn’t end for another ten minutes or so, and he didn’t want them to rush out because of him. “I couldn’t help overhearing the announcement,” he said to the wide-eyed Donna. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Mr. Tyler,” she said, blushing more vividly. “My husband and I are really happy about the baby. It’s our first.”
He smiled, trying to ignore another twist of envy. “Then please convey my congratulations to your husband, as well.”
“Thank you. I will.”