Читать книгу The Tycoon's Reluctant Cinderella - Therese Beharrie - Страница 11

CHAPTER FOUR

‘YOU’RE HERE BECAUSE you want to keep your job. You’re here because you want to save Connor’s job. You’re here because you’re saving your colleagues’ jobs.’

Callie repeated the words to herself as she walked into what had previously been known as Conference Room A. Blake had turned it into an office. Not one he would share with Connor. No, that had ended the minute she had agreed to work with him. This conference-room-turned-office was hers and Blake’s to share. It was one of their medium-sized conference rooms, and Callie had only been in it a few times when she’d had tours with groups of more than six. But, despite its reasonable size, Callie felt closed in. And this time she wasn’t fooling herself by attributing the feeling to claustrophobia.

Her heart hammered as she saw him sitting at one end of the rectangular table, a large whiteboard behind him already half filled with illegible writing.

‘Are you sure you weren’t meant to be a doctor?’ she asked, hoping to break the tension she felt within herself.

Blake looked up at her, his eyes sharp despite how hard she knew he had been working. The hotel had been rife with the news that Blake had been holed up in the conference room for the entire week it had taken for Callie to sort out her schedule. She’d done her tours for that week, but had cancelled everything beyond that. Blake had made it very clear that Callie’s full attention would be needed for the investors, and that was what she was doing.

She tilted her head when he grabbed a cup of what Callie assumed had once been coffee from in front of him. By the look on his face, it was something significantly less desirable now.

‘I’ll get you some more,’ she said, and placed her files and handbag a few seats away from his.

This was their first official day of working together, and Callie wasn’t sure what it would be like to work with the boss. She was already distracted by being alone with him in the same room, she thought as she poured coffee into two cups that sat on the counter along one side of the conference room. The hotel staff had made sure that everything their boss could possibly need was in that room.

She’d heard them whispering amongst themselves, and had taken it upon herself to defuse their curiosity.

‘We’re going to try and save the hotel,’ she’d told Kate, knowing her friend couldn’t keep a secret for the life of her, ‘and if we do things will stay the same for the foreseeable future.’

Since she’d let that little titbit go, her colleagues had done everything in their power to make sure they had the fuel to save the hotel. And maybe the world, she thought, and wrinkled her nose at the extensive display of pastries that lined the rest of the counter.

‘How many people are eating this?’ she wondered out loud, and set the coffee in front of Blake.

‘Two today.’ He sighed as he sipped from the coffee. ‘It’s been like that ever since I started working in here. I think they think I’m a competitive eater in my spare time.’

She laughed. ‘Or a man who needs as much energy as possible so that he can work to save their jobs.’ He frowned, and she elaborated. ‘People were getting restless about what you being here means. I told a friend, and she told everyone else. Trust me—it’s better this way. Otherwise they might have been planning to starve you instead of feed you.’

She grinned, and felt herself relax. This wasn’t so bad. They were having a normal conversation. Just as she would with any of her colleagues. But then Blake smiled in return, and her heart thumped with that incredibly fast rhythm she was beginning to think was personalised for him. Like a ringtone.

She cleared her throat. ‘How’s everything going here?’

‘Good.’ He took another sip of the coffee, and settled back in his chair. ‘I’ve created interest amongst my contacts by highlighting how beneficial it would be for them to be a part of my business, so we’re looking at a few potential prospects.’

She stared at him. ‘You’re good.’

He grinned at her. ‘Thanks. It’s going to be a lot easier for both of us now that you’ve realised that.’

She felt her lips twitch. ‘It’s a good thing I have, then. Now, what do you need from me, Mr Owen?’

‘Blake,’ he said, and shrugged when she frowned. ‘I feel like my father every time you call me that.’

‘Fine,’ she said, and forced herself to say his name without feeling anything. ‘Blake, what do you need from me?’

There was a pause as the question settled between them, and it made her feel as though she’d said something inappropriate. And the way he looked at her made her feel like she wanted to give him whatever he thought he needed from her—even if it wasn’t something that was strictly professional. She exhaled slowly, and hoped that the tension inside her would seep out with her breath. It did—but only because he finally responded.

‘Well, we need to start working on a proposal. But, since I’m still at the stage of securing possible investors, please start drawing up a list of places you think we can include in the tour portion of the proposal. Include your motivations for why you think we should visit them. We can take it from there.’

‘Okay,’ she said, and then frowned when he grabbed his coffee and hung the tie that had been carelessly thrown across his chair over his shoulder. ‘Where are you going?’

‘To work in Connor’s office for a while. Just so we don’t disturb each other while I’m busy with my calls.’

He nodded at her, and then left her wondering why he had asked her to work with him in the conference room when he wouldn’t even be there.

* * *

‘Welcome back,’ Callie said later, as Blake entered the room.

‘Thanks.’ He nodded, and opted for a glass of water instead of the coffee he knew he should take a break from. Especially since his throat was nearly raw from all the talking he had been doing for the last few hours.

He had been successful—had spoken to many of the parties who had contacted him—and he could no longer justify staying away from the conference room. Not when he had insisted Callie work with him and that they should do things together.

‘What do you have so far?’

Callie gave him a measured look, and immediately he felt chastised that he hadn’t made small talk first. But he didn’t trust himself to do that just yet. Not while he was still trying to convince himself that working with her had been a business decision, and had nothing to do with the way she made him feel. Especially after he had told himself that he would stay away from her.

Even now, as she sat poised behind the table, her white shirt snug enough for him to see curves he didn’t want to notice, he could feel a pull between them that had nothing to do with business.

And it scared him.

‘Well, I’ve done exactly as you asked. I’ve drawn up a list of must-see locations that I think we should consider for your proposal.’

She stood and handed him the list, and he saw that her black trousers were still as neat as they had been that morning, when she’d first walked in. She looked pristine—even though, based on the papers in his hands, she had been working extensively on her planning.

‘You can have a look at them and let me know what you think, but I don’t think there will be a problem with any of them. I’ve also tentatively set up some tour ideas.’

Blake struggled to get over the way her proximity threatened to take over his senses, but he forced it to the back of his mind and listened to her explain some of the ideas she’d had. As she did, his own began to form. A business proposal that would complement what she had in mind. But he didn’t know if it would work without seeing it first.

‘Okay—great.’ He put down his glass of water and gestured towards the chair where her jacket lay. ‘Grab your things and we can go immediately.’

‘What?’ Her eyes widened.

‘I want you to show me these must-see locations. I mean, what you have is great—theoretically—but I need you to show them to me so that I know they work in practice.’

‘And you want to go right now?’

‘Yes.’ He walked to the door and opened it for her. ‘The longer we wait, the longer we delay finalising plans. And that’s not the way I work.’

Callie stood staring at him, as though at any minute he was going to say, Just joking! When she realised that it wasn’t going to happen, she grabbed her jacket and handbag and walked past him through the open door.

Her scent was still as enticing as it had been that first night, and for a brief moment—not for the first time—Blake wondered if he was making a mistake. He had asked her to work with him on impulse, although he had known it was a logical, even smart way of approaching the international investor angle once he’d had a chance to think about it. So why was it that he’d avoided working with her for the entire morning if he was so convinced that it was all business between them?

It didn’t matter, he thought, and shook away any lingering doubts. He had a job to do. And that job would come first.

* * *

Callie waited as John, the parking valet, pulled up in Blake’s silver sedan. This evidence of his wealth jostled her, though she knew she shouldn’t be surprised. Of course her boss had money, she thought, and watched Blake thank John and wave him away when the valet moved to open the door for her. Instead, Blake did it himself, and she got in, her skin prickling when she brushed against him by accident.

She ignored it, instead focusing on the car. It was just as luxurious on the inside as it was on the outside—as she’d expected—with gadgets that she didn’t quite think were necessary. But, then again, she drove an old second-hand car that made her arms ache every time she had to turn the wheel. Perhaps if she had thought about gadgets, she wouldn’t have to worry that her car might stall every time she drove it.

Nevertheless, she was proud of the little thing. It was the first car she’d ever bought, and she’d worked incredibly hard since leaving high school and saved every last rand to buy it. Granted, she’d worked for her parents, and she knew they had been liberal in their payment.

She smiled at the memory, and caught her breath when he asked, ‘What’s that for?’

She hadn’t realised he was paying attention to her. She should have known better. Always be on guard, she reminded herself.

‘I was just admiring your car. And comparing it with mine. It doesn’t,’ she said with a smile when he gave her a questioning look.

‘I bought it when I knew I was coming to Cape Town. I had no idea how long I was going to be here, and I didn’t want to impose on my father and use one of his indefinitely. I’ll probably sell it as soon as I know where I’m going next.’

Though her heart stuck on the information that he would be leaving, she asked, ‘You didn’t own a car before?’

‘I did. But I sold it a while ago—when I realised I would be travelling a lot more.’

‘But don’t you need one for when you’re at home?’

He took a right turn and glanced over to her. ‘I don’t have a home.’

For some reason Callie found that incredibly sad. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. It’s a choice.’

She wanted to ask him why, but the silence that stretched between them made it clear that he didn’t want to reveal the reasons for that choice. She respected that. There were things she wouldn’t want to reveal to him either.

‘Blake, shouldn’t I be driving?’

He frowned. ‘Why? Can’t you direct me to where we’re going?’

‘I can, but that won’t give you the experience we’d be giving potential investors. And that’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s why we’re here?’

‘I suppose so.’ He signalled and pulled off to the side of the road.

They switched seats, and for a moment Callie just enjoyed the sleekness of the car. A car she would be driving for the day. She resisted the urge to giggle—and then the urge disappeared when she became aware of the other things sitting on the driver’s side meant. The heat of his body was almost embedded into the seat. She could smell him. She traced her hands over the steering wheel, thinking how his had been there only a few moments ago.

She cleared her throat, willing the heat she felt through her body to go away. After putting on her safety belt, she pulled back into the road and aligned her thoughts. But they stuck when she realised he was looking at her.

‘What?’ she asked nervously. ‘Am I doing something wrong?’

‘No.’ He smiled, and it somewhat eased the tension between them. ‘I just didn’t think this was how the day would turn out. You driving me around in my car.’

‘Are you disappointed?’ Callie turned left, a plan forming in her mind for their day. It was more of an outline, but she was sure it would suffice for something so last-minute.

‘No. You’re doing quite a remarkable job—especially considering I’m not a fan of being a passenger.’

‘Really?’ She glanced over in surprise. ‘I thought you would be used to being chauffeured.’

‘When the need arises, yes. But I try to keep those occasions to the minimum.’

‘Because you like to be the one in control?’

He frowned, and for a minute Callie thought she had gone too far.

‘Maybe, though I think it has more to do with my father. He loves his cars, and couldn’t wait to share that love with me. So I like to drive him when I can so we can talk about something other than the hotel.’

Callie felt her heart ache at the revelation she didn’t think Blake knew he had let slip. And, though a part of her urged her to accept the information about his relationship with his father without comment, she couldn’t help but say, ‘It must have made him proud that you took over his legacy. The hotels,’ she elaborated when she felt his questioning glance. ‘I read the article Corporate Times did on the two of you when he retired.’

She didn’t mention that she’d read it—and many others—just a few weeks ago, when she’d heard Blake would be coming to Cape Town. When he didn’t respond, she looked over and saw a puzzled expression on his face. Nerves kicked in and she felt the babbling that would come from her mouth before it even started.

‘I just meant that he must be proud of you since he loved the hotel business so much. And since you’re also, in some ways, his legacy, it’s like his legacy running his legacy...’ She shook her head at how silly that sounded. ‘Anyway, that’s why I said he must be proud.’

Blake didn’t respond, and she wondered if she’d upset him. She should probably just have left it alone, she thought as she drove up the inclined road that led to Table Mountain. But it wasn’t as if she was prying. Okay, maybe it was. But she’d only said something she thought was true. Surely he couldn’t fault her for that?

‘I think you might be right.’

He spoke so softly that she was grateful the radio was off or she might have missed it.

‘He doesn’t talk about it much, but I think maybe he is.’

Callie nodded, and was amazed at how those few words confirmed what she’d suspected earlier about his relationship with his father. She considered pressing for more information, but he asked her a question before she could.

‘Where are you taking me first?’

She bit her lip to prevent her questions about his family from tumbling out. ‘Table Mountain. Our number one tourist attraction, and also an incredible experience if you live here. This would be the first place I’d want to see if I hadn’t been to Cape Town before.’ She frowned. ‘But, since you have been to Cape Town before, I’m sure this trip is redundant for you.’

‘No. I haven’t been up the mountain.’

He shrugged when she shot him an incredulous look.

‘I’ve only been here for business or to visit my family. I don’t do touristy things.’

‘But...’ She found herself at a loss for words. ‘Don’t you and your family go out together? I mean, this is the best outing for a family.’

‘For certain kinds of families, yes, I suppose it is. But our family isn’t one of those.’

Again, Callie felt an incredible grief at his words. They’d been driving for less than twenty minutes and already she knew that Blake didn’t know if his father was proud of him or not, that their conversations mostly revolved around business, and that his family didn’t do outings together.

She didn’t know what was worse, she realised as she parked. Having a family—parents—and not having a great relationship with them, or having no parents but wonderful memories of them. She had always known that her parents were proud of her. And suddenly, for the first time since they’d died, she was grateful for those memories she had of her parents, no longer pushing them away.