Читать книгу At The Boss's Command - Darcy Maguire - Страница 8

All men are created equal.

But what about women? And are we talking sexism here or feminism-gone-crazy? Has Raquel hired this cute-suit because there are just too many women in the company? Or just because she doesn’t want me?

CASE moved to the head of the table, smiling at the new faces around him, taking in the pause after Raquel’s announcement, the hesitant applause, the expressions being cast from face to face.

It was to be expected. They had probably figured the position would be filled in-house by someone they already knew who wouldn’t question or threaten their way of doing things. And he’d just thrown them out of that comfort zone by being thrown into the mix.

A new face. A loose cannon. Someone who they weren’t sure of. If only they knew.

‘Thank you, Raquel,’ he offered the woman who the vision-from-the-lobby had mentioned earlier.

And then there she was, in the audience. He tore his gaze from her, the fact that she worked for him sending warning signals.

‘Hello, everyone,’ he said smoothly, moving up beside Raquel. ‘I’m thrilled to be here and look forward to working with you all. I hope in the coming days to meet you all personally.’

Case glanced towards the beauty again; her face was a mask of professional curiosity. He straightened his tie. Yes. It was time to get serious. He wasn’t here to get distracted by a pretty face. He was here to sort out one-hell-of-a-mess.

The challenge was what he needed, had needed since his marriage breakdown, and he’d excelled at finding them. He’d gone out of his way to be involved in the most complicated business deals, play the most exacting sports and pursue the most beleaguered companies.

Since his marriage, women were the one area where he went for simple. Easy, light liaisons with pretty socialites thrilled to be on his arm.

Case scanned the room. WWW Designs was in a perfect mess too. Enough to keep him in busy excuses for not having time for a personal life. And enough to redeem himself for the tragedy his marriage became.

Hell, the look on his parents’ faces when he had told them it was over had been the worst part of the whole affair. They prided themselves on their thirty-five years of respectable and spotless marriage, had wished him the same fortunate alliance—the only blemish now was their only child’s marital failure.

It was years ago now, but he still hated the feeling of disappointing them.

Case shook his hands out from the balls they’d curled into. He fixed a soft smile to his face and took a breath. ‘I’ve heard great things about the team here at WWW Designs and I’d like to say that I’m very keen on hearing your ideas on making improvements, not only in your department, but to make this company even greater.’

Raquel moved forward. ‘Thank you, Mr Darrington. I’m sure everyone can’t wait to share their thoughts with you,’ she barked, shooting a hard look around the room. ‘And I’m sure you’re eager to get started.’

‘That I am,’ he said, running his eyes over the crowded room, resting on a pair of very fine green eyes.

‘Wonderful. Great. Then let’s get on to housekeeping. Tahlia, where are we at on hooking the contracts for the private schools’ websites? Mr Darrington, this is Tahlia Moran, Director of Sales.’

Tahlia Moran, aka The Beauty, stepped forward, her shoulders thrown back, her chin high, a chilling blankness in her green eyes that pierced his own for a moment.

Case tossed her name around in his head. It suited her…sweet like her voice and her reaction to him, and strong like the way she held herself and that look.

What was with that look?

She swung her focus to Raquel Wilson. ‘We’ve sub-mitted our ideas to the various schools that were looking and are awaiting their respective decisions,’ she said in a cold, lifeless monotone.

His gut tightened.

The woman he’d bumped into downstairs had glowed with such passion that he could imagine clients swarming towards her like bees to spring blossoms.

What was going on in the office to cause such a turnaround in her? Case scanned the room. How many others here were having their enthusiasm sucked out of them? And by what?

He had to find out.

The company’s future success could hinge on him sorting it out—and he knew just where to start. With a tall, dazzling mystery that begged to be explored.

He just wasn’t sure whether he should.

Tahlia stared at her computer screen, willing the words to clear so she could read her mail and get on with the job she still had.

TO: TahliaM@WWWDesigns.com

CC: KeelyR@WWWDesigns.com

FROM: EmmaR@WWWDesigns.com

SUBJECT: A crazy crazy world

Missed you at the end of the meeting. I expect you needed some space. Gawd, Tahlia. I’m so sorry. There must be some reason the Rottie chose that creep over you. Maybe there’s something going on with them—he is rather cute for a creep.

I think the world has gone crazy. First your promotion goes to some total stranger and then Chrystal. I just had the weirdest talk with her about men. No. Not about size. Or quality. Or quantity. She was asking my advice on how to land Mr Right! Freaky, huh? I guess our office nymph has decided, finally, that she wants more than just sex from men.

What do you think Darrington’s T stands for?

Tyrant?

Em

And if you need to talk, or scream or yell or cry, I’m here for you, sweetie.

Tahlia threw herself back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. Yes, the guy was a creep, sauntering into the building, flaunting his good looks, great suit and that sexy mouth and sharing that oh-so-deep voice.

Acting as if he was just anybody when innocent hard-working employees bumped into him was wrong, and totally inappropriate behaviour in the circumstances.

The nerve of the guy to meet her gaze in the meeting, all warm and soft, as though he was naïve and innocent and ignorant to the fact that it was her promotion he’d stolen.

He didn’t need the job. With a suit that expensive it was surprising he was working at all. He probably had a silver spoon stuck well and truly up his—

She slammed a fist on her desk. He probably wasn’t even qualified, had probably figured there was nothing wrong with using his wealth and connections to jump over hard-working employees on his ruthless climb to the top.

She’d hardly heard his acceptance, but had seen him smiling at her, as though his stealing her job wasn’t enough, that he had to rub salt deep into the wounds of her dashed hopes and dreams.

Bastard. After she had been so stupid and babbling and stupid downstairs.

Gawd. He was her boss now. He was probably going to sack her…especially after what she had said about Raquel…unless he had already told Raquel. Then that was it, she was dead—the Rottie would eat her alive!

How could she have messed this up so badly?

How could she have failed?

Everything had been going so well. She’d had everything under control… How could she not have twigged that the Rottie was interviewing other candidates for the promotion she desperately wanted?

Tahlia cringed. How could she have let her mouth run away with her with the one person who should have seen her as absolutely together?

At least she’d reported the update without revealing a shred of the turmoil that raged within her. She was well practised at keeping it all deep inside.

Dammit. Her mother hadn’t let anything get in her way to the top—not her grief, the rumours, motherhood, her limited education, nothing.

She straightened the photo on her desk of her mother in her favourite power suit with her arms crossed and chin up.

It had taken her mother over a year to save up enough for that suit. Tahlia had watched her come home from the supermarket every day, take off her uniform, make dinner and then iron, and study and iron, and go to night school and iron.

Her mother had said her power suit was forged by iron, and was therefore even more charged to give her the boost in business she needed.

Her mother had taught her about goals and strength and determination and, dammit, she wasn’t going to just give in.

She was a professional, like her mother, and she was going to hold her head high and deal with what life threw at her. Hell, she was used to it. Life had thrown a few big ones their way and they’d not only survived, they’d got stronger.

Even the rumours about Tahlia’s dad hadn’t stopped her mother—if anything they had driven her. Her mother’s passion had inspired Tahlia…and Tahlia was not a quitter like her father. She was a winner, a survivor, and totally in control of her own life…and its surprises.

She’d survive this like she had survived everything else in her life to date—she just didn’t know how to tell her mother…

Tahlia picked up a pen and stabbed the notepad in front of her. Damn that man. Damn Raquel. Damn the world.

How could this happen…right when she was going to prove that she’d be okay, that she was somebody too, that she’d made it?

Life wasn’t fair.

Who was that man?

Sammy’s, their local coffee shop, was busy in the afternoons but perfect for the quick after-work drink Tahlia and the girls had before they headed home.

Sammy’s was mandatory to catch up on the weekend goss if they hadn’t got the chance at work. Most days they’d go the entire day and not get to talk, depending on their work commitments, like the rest of today.

Although Tahlia had to admit she hadn’t been so much working as hiding in her office, smothering her thoughts with work rather than trying to make sense of this disastrous turn of events.

She pushed open the coffee shop door, glancing at her watch. She was late. Maybe late enough for the girls to be totally focused on the wedding or the baby shower and to have forgotten entirely about her lack of promotion.

She didn’t want to talk about it. She wanted to forget it had happened, try to recapture that naïve innocence and faith she’d had this morning that it was imminent, not an ‘if’ but a ‘when’ and she was the success she wanted to be.

Tahlia weaved through the tables. She definitely didn’t want to talk about it until she knew what in heavens she was going to do about it.

Keely and Emma were leaning over their usual table, looking up at the same time, as though they’d picked her up on some radar.

‘I’m so sorry, honey,’ Emma said, gathering up the photos of wedding cakes and a couple of dozen letters that were probably more of the RSVPs she’d been checking off her guest list for the last week. ‘About the promotion.’

Tahlia slid into the seat at the booth, gesturing for Andy, their usual waiter. ‘It’s nothing. A slight hiccup. I’ll be fine.’ She wished she could feel as fine as she hoped she sounded.

‘Darrington is one hell of a hiccup.’

Tahlia shook her head, swallowing hard. ‘So your baby shower is next week—’ And then she’d be abandoning work for putting her feet up and focusing on her future, her baby, her husband and her new house.

‘And you’re avoiding the subject. What are you going to do about the new suit in the office?’ Keely asked, tipping her head.

‘Nothing,’ Tahlia said as casually as she could, shrugging. ‘I’m going to ignore him.’

Emma tapped her pile of stuff into symmetry. ‘That may be a bit difficult seeing as he’s your boss.’

‘And he’s cute as,’ Keely added.

‘I’m a professional.’ And there was no way she wanted to see the guy again after their mortifying first meeting, let alone the fact he’d destroyed her dream.

Keely leant forward in her seat, her hand resting on her bulge. ‘So you’re telling us that you haven’t noticed how nice-looking he is?’

She shook her head vigorously. ‘No.’ She wished she’d known who the guy was from the start so she hadn’t allowed her body to buzz around in flights of fancy. ‘I don’t find that sort of clean-cut chiselled features, tailored-suit sort of guy attractive at all.’ Now.

Today was just another good reason to avoid men altogether—they were trouble. They took what you wanted and ruined your life.

Emma drained her cup. ‘So what now?’

‘I get on with my job,’ Tahlia said coolly, raising her eyebrows and giving a soft shrug. What else could she do?

‘If we still have one,’ Keely offered, flicking cookie crumbs from the table in front of her. ‘Rumour has it that the owners are selling up WWW.’

‘That one has been going around for ages,’ Tahlia retorted, fighting the ache in her belly. It couldn’t happen, not to her workplace, her future…

Keely got up, picking up her coat. ‘I’ve got to go…home to Lachlan—gosh, I still can’t believe my luck.’

‘You deserve it,’ Tahlia offered, grabbing her friend’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze. ‘And more.’

Emma shoved her wedding stuff into her large bag. ‘You know you could start looking around for another job?’

Tahlia shook her head. ‘I’ve got too much invested here.’ And she’d rather walk on hot coals than admit failure, especially to her mum. She was going to get that promotion even if she had to wait another year for it.

‘But don’t feel bad that you’re running off to the Big Apple.’ Tahlia slapped the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically. ‘Leaving me all on my own to battle the Darrington disaster.’

Emma laughed. ‘You’ll do just fine.’

Tahlia nodded, forcing a smile to her face. ‘Of course. Always.’ She was always fine. She had been fine when her father had died, fine when her mother had gone to work, fine when she’d come home to an empty house, fine when her mother hadn’t made it to her graduation, her birthdays or their lunch-dates, and she was fine now.

She could handle Darrington all on her own. She’d find out who the man was and what he’d done so that she could explain how he could get her job promotion—to herself and to her mother.

Maybe he just had better luck than her. She bit her bottom lip. Maybe she should get a few charms to be on the safe side, to cover all bases, to ensure her success.

She’d do anything to get where she wanted to go. She was a professional.