Read Online My Man Pendleton by Elizabeth Bevarly - Free Book Online Page A

that," he voiced his thoughts aloud.
    A ripple of anxious chuckles was his only reply.
    "Okay, then can I just ask one last question?"
    The others nodded.
    "If Miss McClellan is so awful, then why doesn't McClellan, Sr. just let her stay wherever she runs off to? And why do you guys keep going after her, job description or no job description?"
    "That's two questions, Pendleton," Novak pointed out.
    "Okay, two last questions then."
    For a long moment, none of the other VPs responded. Then Carmichael , evidently the least fearful of the repercussions, smiled a little grimly. "McClellan, Sr. needs her back, Pendleton, because Kit McClellan, for all her questionable tendencies, is far too valuable a possession for the McClellans to let her stray far."
    "And why do you all keep going after her?"
    Novak answered this time. "Same reason."
    As answers went, Pendleton thought, those left a lot to be desired. "Valuable in what way?" he asked further.
    "Sorry, Pendleton," Carmichael told him. "But any more questions you have, you'll need to run by one of the McClellans." Her grim smile returned as she added, "And I think you know which one would be most likely to give you the most accurate answer."
    Pendleton nodded silently. That, he thought, was exactly what he'd been afraid of.
    * * *
    "Well, I'll be damned."
    Pendleton shook his head in disbelief as he slumped back in his chair. He tossed his job description back down onto his desk, his gaze pinned to the bottom of page four. Page four, paragraph six, to be specific. Right underneath subheading A.
    Good God, it really was in his job description. Right there, in black and white, Times New Roman on Fine Linen Southworth, it stated quite clearly that should Miss Katherine Atherton McClellan ever take off for parts unknown, at any time during the period of his employment, he might indeed be called upon to travel to those parts and fetch her back to the bosom of her loving family.
    Well, my, my, my. They certainly did things differently in this part of the country.
    He expelled an exasperated sigh and spun around in his chair, focusing on the inky sky outside his window. Below him,
Main Street
was alive with the hum and honk of cars headed home for the evening. Across from him, the assortment of shapes and sizes known as the Center for the Arts was awash with glitzy light. Beyond that, the dark ribbon of the Ohio River rambled languidly on its way, emptying into rivers, gulfs and oceans beyond. And somewhere amid one of those oceans was a madcap heiress he was professionally obligated to find.
    One week. That's how long he'd been granted to locate Kit McClellan, to bring her home to a father who demanded her return, yet clearly did not want her. For all the McClellan clan's wealth and prominence and opportunity, Pendleton thanked his lucky stars that his own family was one hundred and eighty degrees away from them.
    The legal pad that his colleagues had so thoughtfully provided mocked him from atop his desk. Unwilling to tolerate the reminder of his duty, he ripped off the top sheet, folded it in half, then in quarters, then eighths, then sixteenths, and he stuffed it into his shirt pocket. Then he stood and straightened his tie, crossed to collect his blazer and overcoat from the coat stand near the door, and shrugged into the rest of his corporate uniform.
    If McClellan, Sr. wanted his daughter returned, then Pendleton would retrieve her. It was, after all, in his job description. And bottom line, he needed his job. He needed the money his salary provided, the prestige his position afforded, the opportunity it offered him to show a certain person of his acquaintance that, hey, he could, too, hack it, so who's laughing now, huh? Therefore, resigned to his fate, he wrapped his fingers around the doorknob and prepared to face his destiny head on.
    But his destiny was interrupted just then by a quick series of soft raps that greeted him from the other side of the door. "Mr. Pendleton?"