Читать книгу The Tycoon's Outrageous Proposal - Miranda Lee - Страница 13

CHAPTER SIX

CLEO RANG SCOTT when she got back to the office, still slightly tipsy, at three-thirty. The time difference between Sydney and Thailand was three hours so she figured Scott would have to be awake. He answered after a few rings, sounding happy.

‘So how did it go with Maddox?’ he asked.

Cleo cut straight to the chase. ‘He wants to visit the refinery. Tomorrow,’ she added. ‘In his private jet.’

‘Oh, hell. That could be a disaster.’

Cleo agreed, but not for the reasons Scott was talking about. Already she was looking forward to seeing Byron again.

‘He has to know the truth sooner or later,’ she said with her usual pragmatism.

Scott sighed. ‘Tell him I’m planning on closing it down until the nickel prices go back up again.’

‘That might be wise.’

‘Aside from that, what did you think of the man?’

‘Not sure yet. He’s very suave. And way too sure of himself.’

‘That’s what Sarah said. She wasn’t a fan when we met him at the races last year. But possibly that was because she didn’t like his fiancée. I gather she’s no longer in the picture, but, still, the crucial point is...does he have shifty eyes?’

Cleo wasn’t sure what he was talking about for a second, until she recalled how she’d recently dismissed a potential investor because he had shifty eyes.

‘No,’ she said with a dry laugh. Byron’s eyes weren’t at all shifty. Instead they were very blue and very beautiful, fringed by lashes that any woman would envy. They were also knowing and intelligent and sexy as hell.

‘Good,’ Scott said. ‘So you liked him, then? In the business sense, that is?’

‘I suppose so. I’ll be able to make a better judgment after tomorrow. Do you want me to ring you again tomorrow night, after I get back?’

Scott’s hesitation was telling. ‘No,’ he said at last. ‘No, don’t do that. I promised Sarah to put work aside for these next two weeks and that’s what I intend doing. Not much I can do from here, anyway. I trust you to make the right calls, Cleo. Only ring me from now on if there’s an emergency.’

‘Okay.’ She decided not to mention that Byron’s accountant was coming to check the books tomorrow as well. He and Sarah obviously needed this time together without the distraction of the business. It wasn’t as though there was anything to worry about. Their own accountant was both meticulous and ethical. Scott didn’t hire any other kind of employee, though he always did a full background check before he employed anyone.

Cleo decided it might be wise to do one on Byron Maddox. Looking up articles on the Internet didn’t quite match a full security check. As soon as she got off the phone to Scott, Cleo rang Harvey, their head of security.

‘Harvey,’ she said. ‘I have a rush job for you.’

‘Shoot.’ Harvey was a man of few words.

‘I want you to find out everything you can for me on Byron Maddox.’ Cleo refused to concede that there was a measure of feminine curiosity driving her request. This was strictly business. Scott was trusting her to negotiate with this man and she wasn’t going to let him down. People always said knowledge was power. That was what Cleo felt she needed before tomorrow. More power.

‘The Byron Maddox?’ Harvey said, sounding surprised.

‘Yes. I have an important business meeting with him tomorrow. Could you email me a full report by ten tonight?’

‘Will do. Boss,’ he added on a drily humorous note, then hung up.

Cleo was smiling as she hung up. She’d rather liked being called boss. What a shame she didn’t have millions of dollars. Then she could have put herself forward as Scott’s new partner, instead of trying to con Byron Maddox into taking the job.

And it would be a con. Because no businessman in his right mind was going to invest in the mining industry at the moment. The only way to make it palatable would be for Scott to offer a fifty per cent partnership in McAllister Mines at a very reduced price. Which he just might be prepared to do. When he got back. Meanwhile, it was up to Cleo to keep Byron sweet.

The thought came that maybe she should have accepted his ridiculous invitation to go to his mother’s birthday party. Obviously, Byron didn’t realise she would be an embarrassment to him. Possibly he imagined that she was one of those women who after work could transform herself into a femme fatale. Cleo had seen a perfume ad on TV once where the prissy secretary suddenly whipped down her hair, shrugged out of her jacket, slapped on some red lipstick, undid the top buttons of her silky blouse, and—whammo! Instant vamp!

Cleo knew she wasn’t capable of achieving that kind of miracle, even if she spent hours on herself. She’d never had any fashion sense, or know-how when it came to hairstyles and make-up. It would be easy to blame her grandmother’s influence for her lack of style. And there was no doubt her grandmother’s old-fashioned ways were a contributing factor. But Cleo suspected it was something she’d been born with. Some people—like Scott’s wife, Sarah—had an innate sense of style. They knew exactly what suited them and how to make the best of themselves. Cleo had never had that ability. She’d been a shy teenager, lacking confidence in her looks. She’d always thought herself plain, with a too big mouth and too big everything. Breasts. Bum. Thighs. No wonder she’d still been a virgin when she’d met Martin at university. And no wonder she’d been bowled over when he’d said how pretty he thought she was, and how much he liked the way she dressed, complimenting her on wearing no make-up and not looking like a tart.

In hindsight, she understood full well that Martin had liked her not looking too good, especially after her puppy fat had melted away and her figure had improved dramatically. But by then the damage to her self-esteem had been done, and she’d got into the habit of dressing like a dowdy spinster, consoling herself with the fact that Martin loved her for herself. Even after they were married and she’d realised that her husband’s compliments about her modest clothes were his way of controlling her, Cleo had seemed incapable of doing herself up differently. After Martin had become ill, she’d no longer cared what she looked like. It was only when she’d become Scott’s PA that she’d made a conscious effort to at least smarten up her working wardrobe.