Читать книгу At The Boss's Command - Darcy Maguire - Страница 13

What I want in a man on a good day:

1) Tall, dark and reasonably good-looking

2) White collar professional

3) Sense of humour

4) Reasonably sane in-laws

What I want in a man on a bad day: space

‘YES, Mum. I am looking after myself.’ Tahlia threw herself on to the couch, a nuked bowl of low-fat noodle dish in one hand and the phone in the other.

‘And the promotion?’

She stared at the ceiling. ‘No news yet.’ There was no way she was going there with her mother, least of all admitting how the new guy had not only taken her job but had turned her world inside out and wanted her to be his assistant—glorified or not. Her mother would go nuts.

Her mother figured Tahlia had her life together, under control and on plan like hers was. Usually, she’d be right. Today she was so far from it, it made Tahlia’s belly fight the noodles.

She couldn’t tell her.

Her mother would demand the entire story and every detail so she could bestow her wisdom and advice to remedy the problem.

Tahlia was used to it. As a child she’d listened with her mother to motivational tapes, had filled out goal sheets and dream journals and said affirmations just like her mum.

She knew the drill and knew exactly what her mother would say and she couldn’t bring herself to share the sorry news and hear the disappointment in her mother’s voice.

She’d tortured herself enough for one day with Case’s request to be his assistant.

Maybe it was just another way to torture her into submission. Damn the man. Wasn’t it enough that she was tortured by his smile, his eyes, his very fine-looking body? And thoughts of him being all too human with his shaggy little dog and all.

‘I’ll let you know—’ she said carefully, watching her tone.

Her mother tsked. ‘Still nothing? And you’re home this early? Couldn’t you have found something to do at the office to show them that you’re keen?’

Tahlia sighed, pushing the red velvet cushions around beside her. ‘I have been, Mum. But I do have to have a life too.’

She took a mouthful of noodles, staring at the newscaster on the muted TV in the corner, the pile of business management books on her coffee table and the fashion magazine laid open to the latest in-office wear for kick-arse professional women.

‘Are you sure you’ve done everything you can to make your boss see your assets?’

‘Yes, Mum.’ Tahlia couldn’t help but smile. Her new boss seemed very aware of her assets…and the thought of his blue gaze coursing over her body made her nerves tingle anew.

There was a long pause. ‘Are you dating?’ her mother asked in a whole different are-you-running-your-life-right? tone.

Tahlia swallowed the lump of food that threatened to choke her, putting the bowl on the coffee table beside the wineglasses and empty bowls set out for the girls. ‘Dating the boss?’ She coughed. ‘No. Of course not.’

‘I meant dating in general, honey. Of course you’re not dating your boss.’

Tahlia shook herself. ‘Right.’ Of course the thought hadn’t crossed her mind; it probably hadn’t even crossed Case Darrington’s.

‘You know you shouldn’t let anything distract you from what really matters.’

‘Yes, Mum. I know.’

‘You know the risks involved in relationships, how messy they can be…’ Her mother sighed heavily. ‘You know how important it is to get your life right first.’

‘Yes, Mum. I’m getting that promotion first, Mum.’

‘That’s a good girl. I’m so happy that you’re learning from my mistakes and you don’t have to go through what I—’

Tahlia cringed. ‘Yes. I’m so lucky to have you.’ There were some lessons she could do without, even if it meant settling for someone safe rather than someone who was trouble. ‘And don’t worry, I will get that promotion.’

‘Of course you will.’

She shifted in her seat. Some time, after she figured out where Darrington came from and what he was up to. ‘Look, I have to go. My dinner’s getting cold and I have a ton of work in front of me.’

‘That’s the girl,’ her mother gushed. ‘You make it so they can’t do anything but give you the promotion. You just have to do more. Bye now.’

Tahlia rang off, a cold ache in her chest. She had thought she’d done everything, but obviously it wasn’t enough. Yet.

One thing was for sure; Raquel couldn’t help but notice soon that Darrington wasn’t getting the job done—he was spending far too much energy on the staff and neglecting the rest of his work.

All she needed to do was wait…

She gave her neat apartment a slow assessment. She had only one bedroom to minimise rental costs and maximise her saving capability, a small kitchen to make her own food rather than rely on take-aways, a large fridge full of water, fruit and vegetables and frozen meals for one.

It was all about moderation. Why hadn’t her father seen it? Moderation and control was the key to life. If he’d mastered it he wouldn’t have needed to have lied to her mother about the poor state of business, their financial difficulty and his state of mind.

He wouldn’t have needed time to himself so much, wouldn’t have drunk so much and wouldn’t have been on the balcony that night… wouldn’t have leant so heavily on that loose rail.

Sirens still made her body chill and every part of her freeze and listen, for the sound of her mother talking with her father at the table as though he was there, safe, as though they were there, together, as though life was all okay again and her father hadn’t fallen to his death leaving all those problems they said he couldn’t face for her mother.

The doorbell rang.

She put down her bowl and strode to the door. At last. Her friends. She couldn’t have done with her own company a moment longer, especially when her mind was filled with images of Case and his wide shoulders, slim hips, cute tight butt and those incredible sapphire-blue eyes.

She swung the door wide.

Roses. Plump crimson blooms filled the doorway, with soft sprays of baby’s breath at the edges and deep green leaves intermingled amongst the rich vivid flowers in front of her.

She froze, her breath stuck in her throat. Was Case on the other side of the veritable garden? Were his eyes going to be sparkling with promises his lips couldn’t wait to fulfil, his blood rushing as fiery hot as the colour of the roses, just waiting to sweep her to him…?

The flowers moved aside. ‘For Miss Moran,’ said the delivery man, thrusting a clipboard under her nose for her to sign, his face beaming as though he was giving them to her himself.

The chill of reality cooled her body.

Idiot. As if he’d come over. Sure, the guy looked at her and was nice but it didn’t mean anything except that it had been far too long since she’d been on a date.

He was her boss! As if the guy was going to send her flowers—but if not him, then who?

She signed and gave the man his pen and board back. Why had she neglected her personal life so badly? If she hadn’t she wouldn’t be so at a loss every time she was in the vicinity of Case.

If she was a dating veteran she probably wouldn’t even register Case and his attributes, she’d be used to men and attention and wouldn’t be tortured thinking about a man so obviously unsuitable for her.

Tahlia took the roses and held them close to her chest, breathing in their sweet scent. Nice. She hadn’t had roses since…too long.

It was a lovely thought. Her mother? No way. Emma and Keely, maybe…

She closed the front door, flipping open the card tucked amongst the stems. ‘Thinking of you.’

Case, or a secret admirer? ‘Yeah, right.’ It had to be him. Logic suggested there were no other viable options for the sender. He liked her.

She closed her eyes and let the realisation wash over her. Did he want to get to know her better?

The thought wasn’t entirely unattractive, especially the part where she and Case would be in each other’s arms, tasting each other’s lips, their bodies pressed together, exploring the amazing chemistry that was making her act insane.

Was life about compromise?

She glanced at Bert and Ernie. She could put a glass lid on top of their fish bowl and get that pussycat that her mother had never let her have.

No.

She held the bunch of flowers away from her, shaking her head. She was not going to waste valuable time with stupid fantasies about the boss.

She was not going to entertain thoughts like that about the man who stole her job, flowers or not.

She was not giving up. She was a professional and that was her promotion, no matter what he made her feel.

The doorbell rang again.

She flung open the door, steeling herself. If Case Darrington thought that a bunch of flowers was going to romance her into his way of thinking…

Emma and Keely filled the doorway. ‘We’re here.’

They bustled in, arms full of bags, the pizza wafting cheesy garlic aromas around the room.

‘Who’s your admirer?’ Keely asked.

Tahlia tossed the flowers on to the hallstand. ‘Work…from work. Condolences on my promotionless week.’

Emma picked up the flowers, cradling them in her arms. ‘We should have thought of that. Who did?’ She plucked the card. ‘Who’s thinking of you?’

‘Raquel,’ Tahlia blurted.

‘Yeah, that you’re not breathing down her neck. Two-faced Rottie that she is.’ Keely drew her into a hug, juggling pizza and packages. ‘She should have given you the job, not that jerk.’

Emma waved the card. ‘Hang on. How dumb do you think we are? Raquel wouldn’t spend a dime on sending you anything, let alone flowers.’ Emma took the flowers into the kitchen. ‘Fess up.’

‘Fine.’ Tahlia slipped the pizza from Keely’s hands, strode into the lounge, dropped into her favourite deep-cushioned chair and opened the box. ‘I’m pretty sure they’re from Case Darrington.’

Emma whistled, pulling a vase out of the cupboard below the sink and filling it with water. ‘He is rather cute and if I didn’t have my wonderful Harry I would consider pushing him into a cupboard and ripping his clothes off.’

Tahlia stared at her friend, trying not to let the image infect her, her stomach holding on to the thought and pushing it low.

‘And?’ Emma unwrapped the bunch and slid the stalks into the vase. ‘He glanced across the crowded office,’ she said dreamily. ‘Saw you standing there with your freshly pressed jacket, white shirt that struggled to contain your throbbing heart and a short skirt showing off long, long freshly waxed legs that he couldn’t wait to have wrapped around him—’

‘No,’ Tahlia snapped, pushing down the heat in her veins. That girl had been watching too many romances.

She looked away. She couldn’t tell them everything now and confess what she was feeling. It was just too embarrassing. ‘Not exactly. I think he’s an ass. A jerk. An office playboy just toying with me.’ She shook her head with vigour. ‘I don’t want to talk about him.’

‘Okay,’ Emma said, stifling a smile, whipping her fingers across her lips. ‘No more talk about the playboy.’

‘All right.’ Keely nestled herself on the sofa. ‘But then what was the SOS for?’

‘I need help… with my list for my perfect man,’ she rushed on. As if that would ever happen. ‘Like you had, Keely. I figure if I had a checklist I think I may be better equipped to find someone to settle down with.’ Somewhere in the distant future.

Emma placed the vase of roses on the hallstand. ‘Really. Truly? You’re finally going to do it? Even without the promotion?’

Tahlia cringed. There was no way, but she had to get them off the promotion and Case subject. ‘I know I’ve used that job as an excuse not to get into dating and maybe I used it a bit much. You know, all those eggs in one basket thing. I think I need to work on another basket while I mop up the broken eggs in my other one.’

‘Sure. I get it.’ Keely nodded slowly. ‘You need time to grieve…and all. What have you got so far?’

Tahlia pulled out the scrap of paper she’d been doodling on this week, paused and folded it, tucking it tight under her thigh. It was already all wrong.

She ripped open a pack of M&Ms Keely had unpacked on to the table and tipped them into a bowl, snagging a couple of strays and popping them into her mouth. ‘I haven’t got much so far. Short, blond and…’ Not handsome. She’d had enough of handsome. ‘I don’t mind if he’s had a close encounter with a brick wall.’

Tahlia scooped a large handful of M&Ms into her lap and leant back, tucking her legs up on to the seat. ‘I think that sort of broken nose, scarred face, thinning hair sort of look is one that screams character,’ she blurted, shoving half of the load into her mouth.

Emma flopped on to the sofa, ripping open a bag of sweets, shooting Keely a look. ‘And his job?’

Tahlia chewed hard and swallowed. ‘His job—something where he gets down and dirty.’ She rushed on, trying to rid pastel shirts and silk ties from haunting her mind. ‘None of this intellectual shirty-suited sort of person. I want someone rugged, calloused and… rugged.’

Tahlia took a breath and shoved the rest of the M&Ms in her mouth, glancing to the bottle on the table, crunching them up. She needed something stronger than sweets…

Emma popped the cork on the wine, grabbing a slice of the cheesy pizza. ‘And this man’s hobbies would be—?’

‘Collecting bottle tops maybe, tattoos or beer bottles or sandals lost on the beach,’ Tahlia said in a rush. There. As totally opposite to that man as she could possibly get. ‘Well? What do you think?’

‘I think you’ll find him at the local pub, swilling down beer and chewing glass.’ Keely laughed. ‘Are you setting yourself up for disappointment or just afraid of dating?’

Tahlia jerked to her feet. She didn’t like where this was going. She wasn’t afraid of dating or men, not in general anyway. ‘No. I’m being practical.’

Emma poured a glass and slid it in front of Tahlia and picked up a pen. ‘Right. I think you ought to start fresh. What have you got—?’ She lurched forward and snatched the piece of paper from her chair. ‘This is more like it. What’s wrong with this tall, dark and handsome white-collar intellectual—? Oh.’

‘What oh?’ Keely leaned forward, holding her stomach. ‘What have I missed?’

Finishing off her slice of pizza, Emma opened a bag of popcorn, balancing it on her lap and waved the paper at her. ‘I think our Tahlia has already fallen for someone but is in denial.’

Tahlia slumped back into her seat and crossed her arms. ‘I’m denying nothing.’ And she wasn’t admitting anything either. ‘I have not fallen for anyone. I do not fall. I make lists and plans and stay aware of all contingencies at all times.’

Emma tossed a piece of popcorn at her. ‘Right. Sure. Liar.’

‘I’m not lying. There is no way I’m interested in Case Darrington as anything other than my arch nemesis that I need to crush like a bug.’

‘That doesn’t sound healthy.’ Keely poured cola into her glass.

‘You should have heard him. He expected me to be his assistant until he hired someone. Me!’ She touched her chest, feeling the rage anew. It felt far safer than those other feelings she didn’t want to have. ‘After he had the nerve to steal my promotion, he wants to make me his assistant.’

Emma tipped the popcorn into a bowl and pulled out some more packages. ‘Sweetie, take the job, play the secretary-cum-assistant role—it would be great for you to get to know him, wouldn’t it?’

‘You guys are crazy.’

‘Go on, email him now and tell him you’ll help him out with the job. It doesn’t have to be for long.’ Emma took another slice of pizza. ‘It will resolve, once and for all, whether it’s displaced animosity that you feel for your new boss, lust or something else entirely…’

Keely waved a chocolate-covered jam doughnut. ‘And thank him for the flowers.’

‘And you could tell him you’re thinking of him too,’ Emma lilted, casting her gaze to the incredible bunch of red roses on the hallstand.

She was, but she wasn’t thinking straight. She was considering her friends’ advice, but sense would suggest it was extremely flawed and terribly biased in favour of her associating with a cute-suit instead of focusing on her career.

Could these strong feelings be caused by her anger? She nodded. Definitely…it made far more sense than considering she’d let anyone touch her heart, let alone someone who’d taken something so precious from her, or someone who could make her feel so vulnerable.

That had to be wrong.

Tahlia took her glass. Maybe she could spend some more time with the boss, get beneath that tailored exterior of his, past the sweet soppy dog-at-home thing and reveal the true jerk underneath.

Tahlia knocked back her wine and settled back into her chair with a slice of pizza in one hand and an iced doughnut in the other. She’d give the matter some serious thought and maybe check out her horoscope in the morning to see if the stars could shed anything on the matter.

She bit into the sweet powdery softness of the doughnut. One thing she did know was that she was not going to rush into anything, least of all him.