Читать книгу Australian Boss: Diamond Ring - Никки Логан, Jennie Adams - Страница 10

‘MRS FULLER will either have to get on board during this visit, or we cut our losses and dump the project. The work is interchangeable with a dozen other projects that all need my attention. At some point I have to assess what’s going to be best financially for the company overall and, right now, letting her mess us around further isn’t.’ Brent murmured the words as he and Fiona waited in the formal sitting room of the woman’s ritzy Sydney home.

They’d been kept cooling their heels here for twenty minutes now with no sign of their hostess.

‘I agree. This isn’t a smart use of your time. The woman’s behaviour is insulting to you.’ And that insult made Fiona feel…protective towards her boss.

Which was fine, because she was his employee. She had the right to feel that way. Even if she had been somewhat too personally conscious of her boss initially.

The door to the room swished open and a maid entered with a tea tray.

Rose Fuller swept in behind her. ‘Thank you, Lilly. You may pour and leave us.’

Mrs Fuller waved a slender, well-tended hand towards the maid before she turned to greet her guests. ‘Oh, I see you’ve brought an assistant, Mr MacKay?’

A very lowly one, her tone seemed to suggest.

‘Mrs Fuller, meet my graphic designer, Fiona Donner. We were about to leave but, since you’ve managed the appointment belatedly after all, we’ll do what we can in the limited time we have left.’ Brent’s voice held just the right amount of firmness. He got to his feet to shake hands with the woman and stepped back so Fiona could do the same. ‘Fiona, meet Mrs Rose Fuller.’

The familiarity of name and face clicked into place when Fiona received a very practised smile and a rather limp hand to shake, though the woman had looked slightly chagrined by the end of Brent’s speech.

Husband in politics. Big aspirations. Lots of media coverage as they did their best to climb the ranks.

Ah…

‘It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Fuller. I’ve been studying the project plans Brent has drawn up for you.’ Fiona towered over Mrs Fuller by an entire head and shoulders. In the dainty room, with the maid pouring cups of tea into translucent china cups, Fiona had to fight off feeling oversized and, subsequently, unfeminine.

The two assessments did not necessarily have to go together, no matter what her mother may have said to the contrary at various times throughout Fiona’s life. ‘You must be pleased to have Brent on board for your landscaping work. He’s the best in the city.’

‘Well, of course I know Mr MacKay has a decent reputation, though he can be extremely elusive about contact outside of his work channels.’

‘I apologise for turning down the dinner invitation, Mrs Fuller.’ Brent’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘I saw the write-up in all the major papers the next day.’

‘Yes, we made quite a splash.’ Mrs Fuller went on, ‘I’m afraid I just can’t decide on any one of the plans we’ve discussed. My husband is very exacting and everything has to serve our lifestyle and our business interactions perfectly.’ Their hostess gestured for them to take their seats, did so herself and waited while her maid handed out the teacups and left the room.

‘Of course.’ Fiona took a deep breath and turned her attention to the view from the bay windows for a moment.

The house was elevated and the grounds rolled away to a seemingly endless stretch of Sydney coast. The scene from this window once the design work was completed in the grounds below would make an ideal painting for the client. If they could get the woman to start cooperating.

‘Mrs Fuller, you’ve expressed what you want out of this landscaping project. Now it’s time to trust us to provide it for you.’ Brent placed his tea, untouched, onto the small table beside his chair and his fingers curled against his thighs as though he wanted to do something with them but was stopping himself.

Fiona took up the conversation where Brent had left off. ‘The exciting news for you, Mrs Fuller, is that you’ll be one of our first clients to have the benefit of an original artwork gifted to you at the completion of your project. I think a two metre by one metre canvas would work here. Of course, if you’re unable to settle on our plans we’ll need to move on. You’ll understand my employer is highly sought after, and my paintings are award-winning works that will always find a welcome home…’

‘That’s a substantial-sized painting. I wasn’t aware—What awards have you won?’ The woman’s eyes gleamed.

And Fiona ran with that. Just a little, and only because she truly did want her boss to get something back for the time he’d invested in this project so far. She named the prestigious awards.

Brent knew of them, of course. They’d been listed in her curriculum vitae and she’d included copies of the works in her portfolio.

‘I recall now.’ Mrs Fuller straightened her perfectly straight back even more. ‘You’re that Fiona Donner. One of the paintings was a landscape…’

‘Yes. They both were. It’s a favourite medium of mine.’ Fiona could almost see the cogs turning in their hostess’s brain.

She smiled at the woman. ‘At this stage we are utterly one hundred per cent informed of your needs, Mrs Fuller. You’ve discussed them in detail with my employer, and he has explained everything to me. Now you can let it go, take that burden off shoulders that no doubt have many other responsibilities. Your husband, your social engagements.’

A suppressed hint of sound came from Brent that could have been a snort, though a quick glance his way revealed nothing but the blandest of facial expressions.

‘It will be our pleasure to take care of the hard work and stress and decisions for you, Mrs Fuller.’ Brent offered this assurance with calm confidence. ‘All you need to do is enjoy the finished product when your landscape design is in place. Shall we discuss the original plans? I truly still believe they are what’s going to be best to meet your needs.’

They talked. Or, rather, Brent did most of the talking in a firm, determined way. Mrs Fuller occasionally tried to get off track or waffle about some aspect or another she wasn’t quite certain about. Invariably, Brent pulled her back.

Fiona sipped her tea until it was all gone while Mrs Fuller did the same.

Eventually, with all of his case put forward again as succinctly as possible, Brent leaned back in his chair. ‘Well, Mrs Fuller. What do you say? Do we have a plan, or do we leave this here, cut our losses and both move on?’

‘I’d like you to begin work, using the plan you originally produced, and providing a painting.’ Mrs Fuller replaced her teacup in its saucer with a small click. ‘It’s a pity you weren’t able to articulate things so clearly the first time…’

Several beats of silence passed.

Fiona didn’t know she’d moved until she realised she was on her feet.

Brent whispered into her ear, ‘Remember, the client is always right, even when she’s not.’ He’d risen with her and leaned in casually to give her those words while giving Mrs Fuller a businesslike smile.

Fiona bit her lip and bit back the words that wanted to pour out, telling Mrs Fuller exactly how offensive she had just been.

It would be unrealistic, Fiona supposed, to expect a complete turnaround from the woman and, in the end, Brent had achieved what he wanted.

So score one for Brent MacKay Landscaping Designs. With brief—and, Fiona thought in the circumstances, very constrained—goodbyes to their hostess, they took their leave.

Brent led the way back to his utility truck, opened her door for Fiona and got behind the wheel himself.

‘You have excellent people-handling skills, Fiona.’ A grin kicked up one corner of his mouth and spread until it reached his eyes. ‘I had a much easier time of it with you there to help me out.’

‘Oh, I didn’t do much. You’re the one who produced the ideas Mrs Fuller should have leapt at in the first place.’ Fiona brushed aside her part in things and did her best to brush aside her annoyance at the same time. ‘In the end it all worked out, I guess, and I think Mrs Fuller is someone who, despite all the difficulties with her up to this point, will talk your work up to the skies once it’s done for her.’

Fiona was doing quite well being upbeat and positive until she added a muttered, ‘I didn’t appreciate her insulting attitude to the importance of your time or the way she insinuated that her mucking around for weeks was somehow your fault!’

Brent laughed. ‘I caught that, and I appreciate you caring.’

He set the vehicle in motion. ‘You were very diplomatic with Mrs Fuller. I think you’d even manage to tame the crowd of people just like her who attend the Landscaping Awards nights.’

‘That’s one event you do attend each year.’ The words slipped out before she could consider how telling he might find them. ‘I mean, naturally you attend whatever functions you’re interested in—’

‘And I protect my privacy the rest of the time.’ He made no apology, simply stated it as fact.

‘The Deltran Landscaping Awards are prestigious.’

‘Yes, and I’m nominated for an award this year.’ Brent glanced her way. ‘I’d like you to attend the ceremony with me. It will give me a chance to showcase you as part of the company.’

‘I’d love to go.’ The invitation was unexpected, but her acceptance was instantaneous. Too fast, really.

Because she was a little too delighted. Because the thought of an evening out with him appealed a little too much. She wasn’t supposed to be feeling that way about him any more. Not since she’d thought that all through and concluded that she wouldn’t.

‘Then you can consider it a date.’ The moment the words left Brent, a frown creased his brow. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. ‘Consider it a business arrangement, I mean.’

Right.

‘I think it will be a very useful evening for the company.’ And, for that reason, it would be good to attend the evening with her boss.

‘Maybe I should do something similar for this dinner Mum’s roped me into attending with the family.’ There. That was good. A segue into a different topic by commenting on something that bore similarities to the first topic. ‘I could go for “safety in numbers” and take a friend along.’

‘It sounds like an obligatory family event?’ This seemed to surprise him.

No doubt because his interactions with his brothers contained none of the difficulties Fiona encountered at family functions. Her family tended to find her far too different and ‘out of the box’ for their tastes.

Ironic, really, when Brent was the one with the unusual ‘family’ structure.

‘I didn’t mean to make it sound as though family events are a chore for me. Even if they were,’ she added, and couldn’t keep the doubt from her tone, ‘the evening might be fun.’

Extremely doubtful, but in the end you never knew, right?

Brent drew the truck to a stop in its space behind their office building and turned to face her. ‘I’ll trade. You come to the Awards night with me and I’ll be your “extra” for your family gathering. Assuming both these events aren’t scheduled at once. When is your family get-together?’

Not the same night, as it happened.

Fiona was still shocked by his offer, even as she answered him. ‘Th-thank you. I’d love to have you come along.’ She stuttered out the details while Brent climbed out of the truck and led the way into the building and through to his office.

His face was tight. Maybe he regretted making his offer. Should she try to let him off the hook? ‘If you don’t really—’

‘It’ll be a chance for me to meet your family.’ He picked up a handful of mail from his desk and began to sort through it. ‘I’m planning to have you working for me for a long time, so it’s strategic for us to do this.’

‘Oh. Of course. Well, that’s lovely, then.’ And it was. Absolutely. Lovely, and practical and, for goodness’ sake, why would she kid herself it was anything else? She would enjoy Brent’s company as her boss meeting her family for a one-off occasion. That would be no biggie. Not at all.

This might provide a chance for your parents and sisters to see you actually have a serious job working for Brent, not some ‘dangerously unstable artsy thing’ as your mother dismissed it on the phone when you rang to tell her the good news that you’d got the position.

And maybe they’d see that she was making progress in that job. Yes, it was still very early days but Brent seemed pleased enough with her so far. It was about time her family acknowledged that her choices and decisions in life, though perhaps not right for them, were right for her and could even be quite successful.

As for the fact she hadn’t entirely managed to quash her consciousness of Brent as a man…well, she would quash it.

Fiona hustled to the door so they could get on with some work.

‘You’re staring into space, Fiona! Do concentrate.’ Eloise Donner’s voice grated across Brent’s nerve-endings as she addressed her daughter. ‘You’re holding things up.’

‘I’m sure Fiona’s just taking time to think through how she wants to answer the game question.’ Brent battled to keep his tone unremarkable, polite.

He wanted to walk out, taking Fiona with him.

Her mother’s niggling wasn’t overtly vicious. In Brent’s opinion, it was worse than that because it was subtle, ingrained and would be very difficult for Fiona to fight.

Particularly if she didn’t want to get into an argument with her mother and have Eloise tell her she was overstating the problem or making much out of ‘nothing’.

Something told him Eloise Donner would be good at saying things like that.

It was Wednesday night, just over a week after Fiona had first started working for him, and they were at that obligatory family gathering he’d invited himself along to.

As her employer, he had wanted to meet her family. But curiosity had also motivated him.

He had wanted to see what her family were like. Maybe he’d wanted to be around a family that had parents in it, full stop?

You got over missing that a long time ago, MacKay.

His father had made that easy. Just dumped him and walked away…

Well, the answer to what Fiona’s family were like was ‘nothing he’d expected’.

With Fiona being so kind and sweet, he’d thought her family would be the same, people who would have brought out those things in her by their own example. Instead, they were clinical, critical, super-practical and unemotional people who almost seemed to lack…soul?

They certainly looked nothing like Fiona. Her mother and sisters were petite and brittle, where Fiona was tall and lush and vibrant. Her father was a ‘medium’ man. Medium height, build, medium brown hair, medium interest in life, it appeared. Fiona’s inner beauty was something that had obviously come from the core of her and flourished against the odds of her family influence.

Fiona glanced at the card in her hand. They were playing a board game. A particularly stultifying one, Brent thought. There were eight people at the table. Fiona’s family, Fiona, him, and a couple of extras.

Fiona cast an uncomfortable glance his way before she pinned on that smile she’d worked so hard to hold all night. ‘I don’t think I know the answer to this one, Mum. I’ll have to pass.’

‘You must know.’ Terrence Donner cast a slightly impatient glance his daughter’s way. ‘None of the questions in this game are unanswerable.’

‘For people who enjoy documentaries and non-fiction reading, perhaps.’ Brent’s knee brushed against Fiona’s as he shifted in his chair.

The jolt to his senses shouldn’t have happened. He’d made the choice not to notice Fiona in that way.

So why had he?

You’ve noticed her from the start. You’ve simply been avoiding your awareness of her.

Well, then, he could go on avoiding it. He had to go on avoiding it because she set off behaviours in him that he had worked hard for decades to subdue, and he wasn’t about to reveal those shortcomings to her. He guarded those things.

‘Nope. Sorry, Dad. I truly don’t have an answer to put up at this point.’ Fiona shrugged her shoulders and indicated they should move on to the next player, but her words were slightly breathless.

Brent reacted to that knowledge more than he wanted to.

The game ended. Brent got to his feet. He might not have all his answers, but he knew he’d had enough of this. And so had Fiona. ‘It’s been nice to meet you all, but we have a long trip to get home. I think it’s time we left.’

When they emerged outside the family’s house Brent breathed in the night air and thought of Linc and Alex and how lucky he was to have them. A chosen family, not a blood one. As if that mattered. He wouldn’t trade them. The thoughts helped him regain perspective and that put him in a better place to care for Fiona.

As a colleague and someone he’d begun to admire in that capacity…

He helped Fiona into his truck and talked about this and that as they made their way back towards her home.

If he talked, maybe she would forget the unpleasantness of the evening. And maybe he would forget how much he wanted to draw her into his arms and kiss her to take her mind off the fact that her family didn’t treat her the way they all should. That desire was not businesslike.

Words pushed past his lips anyway. ‘What’s wrong with them? They don’t—’

‘I’m glad you got to meet my family, that they got to meet my boss and hear a little about the work I’m doing.’ Fiona spoke over the top of him. Her words were deliberately upbeat as he turned the truck into an empty parking space in the apartment complex’s courtyard. Upbeat but edged with that same breathless quality as earlier, when their knees had brushed beneath the table.

She went on, ‘I hope that will have made my goals a little more real to them, a little more understandable.’

A little more acceptable? Her family made her feel abnormal when she was a great person in her own right. And that was clearly something that had been going on for a long time. That was Brent’s assessment and it was one that was…a little too close to the bone for comfort.

Brent turned off the truck’s ignition and strode around the front to open her door and help her out. ‘You have a good start in a job that’s in your chosen field. There are plenty of people out there who never manage to say that much. Your family should be proud of the way you’ve pursued and begun to obtain your goals.’

‘Thank you and…maybe they are.’ She spoke in a way that seemed to try to keep the uncertainty out of her tone. And gave a soft smile, no doubt aimed at easing the moment. ‘Well, I promise you I will do my utmost to support you in return when it comes time to go to the Awards dinner.’

‘Your company on the night will be more than enough.’ Brent all but growled the words. ‘I’ll walk you up.’

See her into her apartment safely and then leave. That was what he needed to do, not linger here wanting nebulous things he didn’t want to name but knew would get him into trouble if he went after them. Things that had to do with odd notions, such as comfort and closeness and acceptance.

What was the matter with him tonight? Where were these deep buried thoughts coming from?

When they reached the top of the staircase and made their way to her front door, Fiona put her key in the lock and turned to face him. ‘They didn’t pry too much into your business, I hope. When I was in the kitchen clearing away dishes.’

He pushed his hands into his pockets, frowned and took them out again. ‘They didn’t pry too much.’

She seemed to relax a little at that. ‘Would you like a coffee or something before you drive on? I’ve only got instant—’

‘No. Thanks. But I’ll see you inside.’ He had to know she was safely secured behind these walls. That was only common courtesy.

‘O-okay.’ She pushed the door open and walked inside.

Brent followed, closed it after him and glanced around.

A hand-woven rug brightened the floor. Those splashes of orange and sky-blue and red and green were echoed in throw cushions and the table lamp and an abstract Fiona Donner original on the wall.

She’d made a beautiful home, welcoming and individual and full of her life and vitality and sweetness. Brent wanted to sit on her sofa and just…be there among these things that held meaning for her. As though, if he did that, he’d…belong.

The inexplicable feeling washed through him, so much more than a simple awareness of her, even if that awareness had been causing him enough problems all by itself.

It took him enough by surprise that he hesitated in the centre of her small living room.

He should go.

He wanted to stay.

Since when had his emotions reached for such odd things? He didn’t even do that whole ‘feelings’ arena. Linc and Alex—he loved them, but that was it. His inability to maintain a relationship with his father had taught him what his limits were. The autism—he hadn’t been able to get past that. With Alex and Linc it was different, but they’d all come up together, had faced down their demons together.

With Fiona, Brent wasn’t even prepared to let himself be attracted to her. He wasn’t in the market for a relationship, and Fiona was someone who should be given that if a man was interested in her.

So say goodbye and leave. Do it now before any other temptation comes over you.

‘Well, thanks again.’

‘I should go.’

They spoke at the same time.

Fiona paused and her lashes fluttered over eyes the colour of the sky in the mountains on a warm summer day. Clear, sweet blue.

So lovely. He could appreciate the pure aesthetics of her, couldn’t he? Just appreciate that?

Yes? And where was the distance to go with that kind of remote appreciation?

Brent didn’t know the answer and, because he didn’t, and because he couldn’t quite make his feet take him to the door and through it, he addressed another issue that he did want answers to.

‘Your family made tonight all about themselves.’ Maybe she didn’t want to discuss this, but what if she needed to? What if he needed to talk with her about the way her family had treated her?

His fingers reached out and brushed the back of her hand. She had smooth, soft skin like the petals of a rose. Too late not to touch her now. He’d done it. ‘Your parents could have tried to be a bit accommodating of your tastes in terms of entertainment.’

‘They think I need to fit in, be more like them, but I’m just…not. I tried that. It didn’t work.’ Her soft sigh was a whisper between them. ‘But I love them, and they don’t mean to make me uncomfortable.’ She gestured with her hand to dismiss the topic. ‘Thank you for your company, anyway.’

‘You’re welcome.’ And he had to go.

Brent walked to the door and tugged it open and, with a low, ‘Lock it after me,’ he stepped through. On the other side, he waited until she did as he had asked, and then he walked to his truck and drove away.

What he thought about her family, about all this, didn’t matter in the end. Whatever he now knew of her, whatever empathy he felt for her, he had nothing to offer anyone, and especially not someone like Fiona.

That was what he had to remember.