Free Falling For Her Boss by Karen Rose Smith Page B

about becoming involved?  No.  She knew better.  Maybe after she decided what she was going to do with her life, she'd think about loving someone again.
    "I think someone wants to see you," Noah said.
    Francie looked over her shoulder and recognized the eight-year-old with the tousled brown hair.  He came to the rink after school and on Saturday afternoons.  But he hung around the lobby with his friends.  He didn't skate.
    She beckoned to him.  "Come on in, Drew.  How can I help you?"
    Drew took no mind of Noah sitting behind the desk and came right over to Francie.  "I want to skate."
    Francie smiled.  "I think we can arrange that.  You can rent a pair of skates--"
    "No, I mean I wanna skate, but my dad won't let me.  He thinks I'll get hurt.  Ever since my sister was in that car wreck, he won't let me go anywhere by myself.  He won't let me do anything!"
    Francie had heard about Drew's sister.  She'd been in the hospital for a while last year.  "I can see why your dad is worried.  And I can't let you skate without his permission."
    Drew chewed on his bottom lip.  "Yeah.  I know.  But maybe if you tell him I'll be okay, he'll believe you.  Please?"
    How could she say no?  "This means a lot to you."
    Drew jammed his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his sneakers.  "All my friends skate and I want to be out there with them.  Will you talk to him?  I'm going home with Rick today, but Dad will bring us tomorrow."
    "I'll talk to him.  But I can't make any promises.  It's still his decision."
    "You'll change his mind.  I know you will."
    After Drew had dashed out of the office, Noah asked, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
    "Talking to Drew's father?  It can't hurt."
    Noah's gaze was steady and serious.  "It can if you change his mind and something happens.  I don't think it's advisable to get personally involved with the customers."
    She raised her hand in an I-don't-believe-this gesture.  "I'm not going to date him.  I'm going to talk to him."
    Noah's intensity didn't diminish one iota.  "Do you do this often?"
    She sighed loudly.  "Noah, I talk to my customers all the time.  I know many of them from growing up in Gettysburg.  It's good business."
    Noah rubbed his hand across his forehead.  "Public relations is one thing.  Getting involved in their lives is something else.  Business and personal relationships don't mix."
    "Why?"
    "Because there's no line separating them."
    Witnessing his resolve, she took a stab in the dark.  "You and Craig were friends."
    "Yes, we were.  And we could have lost the friendship because of the partnership."
    "You didn't?"
    "No, but it'll never be the same."
    Hearing the sadness but also hearing the door clang shut because he wouldn't say more, she sat up straight and faced him squarely.  "I do get involved with my customers, Noah, and I can't believe your other managers don't.  We announce birthdays, anniversaries, babies' births.  How can I not be involved in my customers' lives?"
    Noah rolled his chair back, stood, and came around the front of the desk.  "Most of my managers manage.  They don't mingle or make barbecued hamburger for the snack bar."
    When Noah was behind the desk, she felt she could keep her reactions to him under control.  With him right in front of her, her temperature fluctuated and her pulse beat erratically.  "I must be doing something right, since we're operating in the black."
    He sat on the edge of the desk.  His pants leg brushed her knee.  "It seems as if you're doing everything right."
    "Then why do I feel you're criticizing my methods?"
    "I'm just wondering about the amount of energy you're investing.  Do you have a personal life?"
    "Of course I do."
    His gaze pinned her to her chair.  "When?  You're at the rink six days a week."
    She shrugged and brushed an imaginary piece of lint from her skirt.  "I take off.  I do things with my family.  My sisters-in-law and I often go on shopping