Читать книгу Emma Ever After: A feel-good romantic comedy with a hilarious modern re-telling of Jane Austen - Brigid Coady - Страница 15

Chapter Seven

This was it.

Surely this was the moment when she could get her fingertips to touch the next rung on the ladder. She’d have to make sure she grasped it because she didn’t plan on ever getting kicked out of here.

The door opened.

It wasn’t the first time she’d met Malcolm McKee. All newbies to Mega! were wheeled in for an uncomfortable ten-minute one-on-one with him at the beginning of their employment. He’d cross-examine you about your future career plans. Emma had loved it. And when she’d left she was sure he’d been smiling.

The only other time you were guaranteed to see him was when he presided over the beginning of the company Christmas party, exuding Yuletide cheer, and leaving before it descended into Bacchanalian debauchery. She didn’t believe the rumours that he knew exactly what went on when he left, knew who was naughty or nice.

Because McKee didn’t look like Father Christmas. His grey hair was receding and his ears stuck out a bit too close to ninety degrees.

‘Ah, Emma, welcome.’ His voice was higher and squeakier than his body size suggested. And how had she forgotten the gap between his front teeth? Probably because he was always intensely concentrating when she saw him.

‘Mr McKee.’ She shook the hand he held out.

‘Call me Malcolm,’ he said and waved her to one of the seats in front of his desk.

She sank into the seat, finding herself at a much lower angle, staring up at McKee as he clasped his hands and stared back down at her.

Wiggling, she moved herself up until she perched on the edge.

‘We’ve been watching the whole “Phooke” relationship and wedding,’ he said without any further preamble. ‘It was masterful. Beautifully done. No one would guess that they had started as a “fauxmance.”’ He then winked.

Did he think it was still a stunt, she wondered? She clasped her hands together to stop them shaking, it was probably best not to contradict him.

‘Thank you. It was a great project to work on,’ she replied.

‘Good, good. I’m glad.’ He leaned further forward and lowered his voice. ‘We think, with what you’ve accomplished there, that you’re ready to deal with some of our more complicated and high-profile clients. We want to really give you something to sink your teeth into.’

High-profile?

Complicated?

‘That is amazing. Yes, I’d love to,’ she found herself saying, her natural caution being overridden. Because this was the opportunity she needed to pull herself further up, to take that next big leap. If McKee thought she was capable of big things, then…

‘Excellent. I do like staff that understand the meaning of when someone says “jump” ask “how high?”’ He winked again and laughed.

She found herself laughing along, while she tried to untangle his words. They weren’t that funny, in fact… but before she could work it out, he said.

‘Instead of letting you worry and speculate about who they could be for the next few days, I want you to meet with them now. Get to know them, see what we have in the works for them and then work out how you can best do your magic.’ As he said magic, he fluttered his fingers. It seemed odd to see him flicking them almost like he was casting a spell.

‘Absolutely,’ she said. This was it. The butterflies in her stomach grew bigger wings. She could do it. Yes, of course she could.

McKee rose and beckoned her up.

Holy crap, it was like the chair had taken her hostage. Even though she had been perched on the edge, it seemed to want to suck her down into the cushions. With a small arm flail and an undignified lean forward, she managed to extricate herself. She smoothed her clothes down and hair back. Luckily McKee had his back to her.

He led her to a floor-to-ceiling door she hadn’t noticed at the other side of the office. It was the same bright white as the rest of the décor. He pushed it open and it made a quiet whooshing sound like an airlock. Sound started spilling out.

This was the CEO boardroom, they must be high-profile clients if they were using it. Even Phooke hadn’t got as far as this floor. They’d done all the negotiating and planning in the general conference room near reception.

If the Phooke fauxmance got as far as it had from that conference room, then imagine what she could make happen for the people in this room, she thought. The sky was the limit.

Who was it? She squinted slightly. One wall of the boardroom had floor-to-ceiling windows, letting in the late morning September sun and obscuring the room’s occupants.

Holy…

Her breath caught.

It couldn’t be?