Читать книгу Hot Boss, Wicked Nights - Anne Oliver, Anne Oliver - Страница 9

CHAPTER FOUR

KATE arrived at work early on Tuesday just in case Damon changed his mind and turned up unexpectedly. No way was she going to let him see she wasn’t up to the job. She switched on her computer and called up one of yesterday’s files.

Last night she’d used the oils he’d given her and indulged in a hot, fragrant bath. Whether it was the fantasy of imagining him sharing it with her, the knowledge that Damon had given her the oils, or his grandmother’s recipe, she’d felt amazing afterwards. Revived, refreshed.

Didn’t mean she felt any less resentment towards him this morning. Today it was back to business. Business and recreation were separate entities. Say it again, business and recreation are sep—

‘So, what do you think?’ Sandy’s voice interrupted her inner lecture.

Kate glanced up from her computer, took one look at the dreamy expression on her colleague’s face and knew what Sandy meant. Still, she said, ‘About what?’

‘The new boss. Damon.’

The way she said his name, like a sigh, grated on Kate’s nerves. Not the way a staff member should talk about a potential employer, Kate thought with a primness that surprised even her.

‘He’s not strictly our boss, Sandy.’ Kate resumed tapping keys, suddenly aware of a prickly heat beneath the front of her crisp white blouse. ‘Not until he says he’s our boss. He hasn’t told us what he’s decided yet. He might sell.’

‘But he’s already making changes.’

Kate stopped typing and stared at her. ‘Changes?’

‘Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the new state-of-the-art whiz-bang coffee machine in the lunch room?’

Coffee machine? When had that been delivered? Where did he think the money for that was coming from, for heaven’s sake? Not the social-club funds. ‘I haven’t had time for coffee. I’ve this group booking to finalise and the airline’s giving me the runaround. Anyway, we don’t need a coffee machine,’ she muttered.

‘What’s with you?’ Sandy frowned at Kate over her computer monitor. ‘You’ve been nothing but snarly with him. You got something against drop-dead gorgeous?’

‘No. If you go for that rugged outdoorsy type.’ Kate resumed studying her computer screen without really seeing it, but looked up again as something occurred to her. ‘You didn’t tell me he phoned me yesterday afternoon.’

‘Oh. I forgot. Sorry.’

‘You told him I was with a customer. I didn’t have any customers. I worked out back because I didn’t want to infect anyone with my sniffles.’

Sandy shrugged, a half-baked smile on her face. ‘Guess I was mistaken. Sorry again.’ She bounced up off her chair. ‘Let me make it up to you. I’ll make you the best coffee you ever had. It even makes cappuccino—’

‘No!’ Kate snapped. ‘No,’ she said again, striving for the calm professionalism she was known for, which seemed to have deserted her this week. ‘Thanks, I’ll get one myself in a while.’ Drop-dead gorgeous was already the cause of office conflict and he hadn’t been here more than forty-eight hours.

Coffee machine! She scoffed to herself as she punched in the airline’s number yet again and was put on hold. It was obvious he was trying to lure the staff onto his side. Sandy was already there. They’d like him, they’d want him to stay. Where would that leave her?

And what next after the coffee machine? An Under New Management sign on the window and a change in name? Damon Gillespie looked like the kind of man who’d want to make his own mark on the business. She could just picture ‘Damon’s Travel’ up there in big red letters.

Regular customers came here because they trusted Aussie Essential. Personalised service with a smile, the best deals around—somehow Bryce had always managed to undercut the competition. Why change something that worked?

She’d just finalised the booking from hell when her phone rang again. ‘Good morning, Aussie Essential Travel, Kate Fielding speaking. How can I help you?’

‘And good morning to you, too, Kate. Glad to hear you’re sounding better today.’

No name—of course a man like him would expect her to recognise his voice. She was tempted to play dumb but he’d know, damn him. ‘Damon.’ Her own professional voice slid a notch, her pulse stepped up one. She shot a quick glance at Sandy. Thankfully she was busy on her own phone. ‘What can I do for you?’

A pause while he considered her offer. She swore the connection crackled with the possibilities.

‘I’d like to use your local knowledge this afternoon,’ he said, finally. ‘Can you make yourself available at three?’

‘I… Is this work-related?’

‘Of course.’

By the tone in his voice she could almost hear him saying, What else would it be?