Falling For Her Bad Boy Boss (Island Girls: 3 Sisters In Mauritius)

by Zee Monodee

  The idea sounded more and more appealing, and Logan found himself roped in by the whole argument, too. He glanced at the clock. Five p.m. She’d be leaving at this time. If they wanted to catch her, they’d have to do it immediately.

  He had to try one last argument, though. “Griff, working for someone, and working with someone, are two different things. What if she hates the idea?”

  “We’ll simply have to ask her. And if you’ve got any charm inside of you, now’s the time to use it.”

  Logan pondered that for two seconds at most. He reached for the phone and punched in Neha’s extension.

  She answered on the fourth ring.

  “Can you come by my office?”

  *

  Neha groaned and replaced the phone back into its cradle. What did Logan want now? She’d already been on her way out when the insistent ring had brought her back to her desk.

  As she quickened her step towards his office, an ominous shiver ran down her spine. She hadn’t liked his quiet tone. He’d asked her gently. And when anyone knew how the real Logan barked into the phone, she couldn’t help but feel apprehension creeping up on her like a malevolent shadow. The small of her back grew weak—something potentially life-changing lay ahead.

  A rush of warm air engulfed her when she stepped into his office, and for once, the scent of his aftershave didn’t hit her with its usual blast. She swallowed hard at the sight of the expectant faces of Logan and Griffin both peering up at her.

  This is even worse.

  Something brewed, and it involved her. Stopping in her tracks, she travelled her gaze from one man to the other.

  Logan beckoned her to the desk with a nod. His dark eyes locked with hers, and she parted her lips, to draw in short puffs of air. These eyes seemed to pull at her, and she found herself walking to the other unoccupied chair, where she settled.

  Logan didn’t tear his gaze from hers. He only looked away when Griffin spoke.

  “Neha, we need your help.”

  She craved to curse, but didn’t dare do so in front of them.

  “What can I do?” she asked, infusing conviction and not the despair creeping inside her into her voice.

  Logan broke the pregnant silence. “We need an anchor for the TV news bulletin tonight.”

  “And?”

  “And we thought of you.”

  In front of her eyes, the room grew dark, light ebbing away from the spacious setting and only flickering over Logan’s face as she faced him.

  “What?”

  Her voice sounded distorted and distant, as if she were struggling under water, pressure making a hollow, drowning sound in her ears. She saw his lips moving rather than heard him.

  “You’d be the perfect anchor. You already know all the information to be broadcasted, and you have a great presence on screen.”

  What on earth is going on?

  “Let me get this straight. You want me to co-anchor the news with you?”

  “Yes. Company policy. Total bollocks if you ask me, but Griff and I both value our jobs so we have to abide by the head house’s rules. It would take too long to argue with the owner at this point rather than getting a replacement anchor for Pam.”

  Pam? The barracuda was gone?

  Neha scanned his face. He’d clenched his taut jaw, knitted his eyebrows in worry, and pursed his lips into a thin, pale line. Yet, a weary vulnerability also hovered on his drawn features; something she would never have associated with the tough, hardened man if she weren’t seeing it for herself right then.

  The certainty hit her. How could she refuse to help him?

  But that’s not what she’d signed up for when taking this job. All right, it had all started as a dare, but somehow, finding her footing in this cutthroat world had been a challenge she’d welcomed.

  And he wished for her to throw off the very equilibrium she’d attained the hard way, for a place literally under the spotlight? Panic and reluctance welled up in her like a tidal wave. No. She couldn’t do this. Wouldn’t do this.

  Take a stand. Do it now.

  She hitched in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  After a long moment, Logan nodded almost imperceptibly and lowered his eyelids.

  Heavy gloom cloaked her in a tight wrap, upon the moment making her think she had to be an utter monster to refuse to help them. Yet, she also wouldn’t cut it under this kind of pressure. The centre spot had never called out to her, and she’d always eyed it with distrust.

  “It’s okay, Neha. We had to try, anyway.”

  Griffin’s voice brought her back to the office.

  Logan no longer looked at her. His head lay bent, shadows falling upon his features and preventing her from seeing his expression. She travelled her gaze down, onto his sagging shoulders and his whole body slouched in his chair.

  When he moved his right hand, which had been resting on the desk’s surface, she gasped as bright specks caught the light amid the bruised and blood-caked flesh.

  “What happened to you?” She stood and went around the desk to his side.

  “Nothing.” He grumbled the dismissal.

  The desk’s surface was damaged, and it dawned on her that bits of glass had embedded in his hand. He seemed unruffled by this, though. He flexed his wrist and gave a slow hiss. A shard of glass fell from the wound, fresh blood trickling out and adding to the dry, dark red trails on his skin.

  He’d hurt himself, and badly, too. Some reflex kicked in inside her, and she moved towards the door.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said over her shoulder as she dashed out of the office and ran to the kitchen. There, in one of the cupboards under the sink, she grabbed the first aid box and returned to Logan’s side.

  After placing the case on the desk, she opened it and bent by his side. “Give me your hand.”

  “There’s no need,” he said in a low growl.

  She threw him a glare, not breaking eye contact until he’d sighed and put his hand onto hers.

  Bracing it with her palm, she poured some antiseptic into a small dish and dipped the tweezers in the liquid. After pulling out the glass shards one by one, she dabbed a swab of moist cotton onto the wound, cleansing away the caked blood. It allowed her to view the extent of the damage. Luckily, no fragment had gone in too deep, but the small tugging pull of the cotton had reopened the injury, and blood had started to seep out.

  She gave him a quick glance as a soft sound, like a hiss, came from his mouth. His face had hardened, and he followed every move she made with his gaze.

  After wiping the skin with more antiseptic-soaked cotton, she spread some antibiotic cream across the wound and placed a square of sterile gauze on it, taping it all down with some breathable Elastoplast.

  Then, she placed his hand in his lap. “There. The dressing won’t even be noticeable if you don’t show your palm to the camera.”

  “That was quick.” He frowned. “And almost painless. How did you do it?”

  She gave him a soft smile. Everyone used to tell her the same thing whenever she’d tended to a wound. “Lots of practice with the Red Cross.”

  “You’re a nurse?” Griffin asked, shock ringing in his tone. “It’s mentioned nowhere on your CV.”

  Drawing out of the bubble encasing her and Logan and realizing the other man still sat in the room, she addressed him.

  “I trained as one.” She paused. “A long time ago. And I didn’t think nursing would be an advantageous experience to work in a media station.”

  She stifled a chuckle at her last statement. How could she think of laughing at this time? That’s it, she must be getting hysterical. Better she hightail it out of there ASAP.

  “Don’t let the dressing get wet for the first twelve hours. It shouldn’t bleed, but you never know with wounds. Try to use your hand as little as possible,” she added.

  “You’ve always loved to help others, haven’t you?” he asked, out of the blue.

  Caught unawares by his kind
tone, she nodded.

  Slowly, he got up, his huge body and magnetic persona a few inches from her, drawing her into a spell he wove only with his commanding presence.

  “Thanks,” he said, and picked up her hand.

  His eyes focused onto hers, and she gasped, the sound strangling in her throat as he brushed the warm, roughened tip of his thumb over her knuckles.

  “Logan, stop, please,” she said on an exhale.

  She glanced at Griffin, but he wasn’t looking at them, instead perusing a document on the desk.

  Logan remained where he stood. Yet, the intimate cloak around them seemed to close in, making her believe his face was drawing closer to her, his warm breath brushing over her cheek to send a tingle along the outline of her lips.

  “Neha, I desperately need your help.” His voice grew softer. “Don’t let me down.”

  Captivated by his presence, some part of her brain still acknowledged she couldn’t step into this. Sheer madness. She parted her lips to reply, but he spoke first.

  “Please.”

  Need, hopelessness, and trepidation thrummed for position in the word, and her heart picked up a hammering throb. How could she say no? He was standing in front of her without any armour, without any protective shell. And she couldn’t let him down when she reckoned what else she’d heard and understood in his voice.

  Trust.

  “I’m not cut out for this, Logan.” Her voice came out a mere, dry whisper.

  “But you’ll do it?”

  She remained stock still for long seconds. “Yes.”

  “Thank you.”

  The smile that broke on his face proved so beautiful and so unlike anything she’d seen before, the sight wound its fingers around her heart and clutched it in a strong, vise-like grip.

  Logan moved, going around the desk in a flash. Griffin jumped to his feet, and both men walked to the door.

  “Griff, go tell Debbie there’s been some change. Tell them to be ready in Wardrobe and in Makeup. Neha will be there shortly. Get them to prep everything to accommodate the new visual. They still have the cues for when we did the mock bulletins. Reassure Debbie there’ll be no problem over the broadcast as ...”

  His voice died down as they exited the office and went out towards the TV studio located across the wing from the radio station.

  Reeling as the full magnitude of her current position hit her, Neha forced herself to calm down. But she couldn’t, and only one thing rang in her mind.

  What had she really gotten herself into?

  Almost as if in a trance, she reached her desk in the newsroom. Rummaging in her handbag, she closed her hand on her inhaler. Waves of panic rushed through her, going from one end of her body to the other, making her shiver with apprehension and dread.

  She couldn’t do this. She had to tell Logan. Yet, the image of his trusting face flashed inside her head. No, she wouldn’t back out. Not now, and not ever.

  Time for her to draw the shots. Maybe this was the opportunity she’d been desperately looking for, the one to help her establish herself as a woman in her own right. A woman with a fitting perspective in the scope of a career, away from the traditional pedestal her world had been confined to in the past.

  Taking a deep breath, she lingered next to her desk. For once, the newsroom lay quiet. At this time of the afternoon, the hustle and bustle of the station transferred over to the TV section, for the six o’clock news bulletin.

  Global Village Media Studios had twelve stations across the globe. Each one broadcasted its own news bulletin on the network’s Internet channel at six p.m. in its country. Hence, there aired a news bulletin every other hour. Some of the information got run by all the stations, news segments appointed by the head office in London. The remaining part of the information pertained to the news in the particular country and its surroundings. A couple usually hosted the news—here, it had been Logan and Pam. Ratings had fallen when only one anchor had handled the bulletin, and the company had elected for a strict policy of an anchoring couple at all times. Being a commercial station, GVMS relied on its ratings more than anything.

  And it would be Logan and Neha from here. Even if only for a day, they’d be the anchors. Together. Alone.

  Madness. She shook her head. She couldn’t go ahead.

  The hairs on the back of her neck bristled, and she turned towards the doorway. Logan stood there, watching her with intent eyes.

  “Second thoughts?” he asked.

  Tension had set in his shoulders and in his stance, as if he’d turned into a coiled spring.

  When he pursed his lips, she closed her eyes for a second. Vulnerability. Why did he play with her like this?

  “I’m trying to imagine how all this will work out, but I have no idea,” she said.

  He moved into the room and stopped a few feet from her. Neha lowered her face. She’d started to feel so uneasy around him, and she didn’t want to see his face, for fear of some other emotional stirring he’d wake up in her.

  Unbidden, the memory of him telling her she no longer stood alone in the world lit up like a flash in her head.

  If he were giving her his side, offering her his companionship, didn’t he deserve she do the same for him? Exchanged the same level of trust? Do for him what she knew he’d do without question or a blink for her?

  If the tables had been turned, she had no doubt Logan would’ve run to her rescue.

  She burned under his intense perusal, and though he hadn’t moved, she almost felt like his fingers touched her under her chin, lifting it, until she was gazing at him.

  “I’m scared,” she said on a rushed exhale.

  “There’s no need to be. I’ll be there with you.”

  Did he really mean it? As they both stood, his warmth, soft and encompassing, filtered to her and enveloped her in its gentle arms. The feeling soothed her, and calm and certainty infused in her every cell under his steady gaze. She nodded, and he smiled.

  “We go on air in forty minutes,” he said. “Just enough time to rush through Wardrobe and Makeup. Afterward, I have to show you the final line-up, and the camera crew needs time to adjust the screen take to our team. We’d better go.”

  She nodded. She really would go ahead with everything.

  Neha couldn’t quite believe it, and a rational part of her screamed. She only heeded its call enough to realize she had to call the children and inform them of the change of plans. And she’d also have to call her mother, so she could stay with them until Neha went back home. She groaned.

  “What?” Logan asked.

  “I have to call my mother, so she’ll stay with the kids. I can leave them on their own in daylight, but evening is another matter.” She bit her lip. “She’ll throw a fit.”

  His face darkened. “Neha, I’m really sorry for putting you through all this. You’re our only hope, but say the word, and I’ll get on the phone with the station owner.”

  He meant it. He would do this for her.

  She gave him a small smile. “You run along. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Where exactly do I need to go?”

  “Same as when we did the mock-ups, the station across the wing. I’ll get someone to take you through to Wardrobe and Makeup. Don’t worry.”

  She nodded and turned around to fish for her cell phone in her bag. On a deep breath, she speed-dialled her mother’s number.

  “Hey, Mum. Listen, I don’t have much time, so please hear me out. There’s been some disturbance here at the station, and I will need to stay for a few more hours. Can you please go to my place and be with the children? There’s a bowl of pasta in the fridge. You can reheat it for dinner. Or let them order some pizza tonight.”

  Her mother huffed. “I knew this would happen one day.”

  Neha sighed, the start of a wrenching headache thrumming behind her forehead. “Mum, please—”

  “No, no, no. Listen to me, you foolish girl. It starts like this. You stay late one day, and it will just get worse and wors
e. These people will use you. Have you forgotten you have a family to care for? They’ve already lost their father. Do you also want to cut their mother out of the picture?”

  “Mum—”

  “Don’t you start with me! A mother needs to be here for her children. Full stop. You may get away with it during the day, but night-time is a totally different matter. A mother shouldn’t be running around doing God knows what, especially at night. What will people say?” She stopped her rambling. “You’re not meeting someone, are you? Is that it?”

  The last words had Neha fuming, and she snapped, her temper going over the edge. “No, I’m not. And even if I was, it wouldn’t be any of your business. The kids won’t be home until six. Suze has her cheerleading practice, Rishi is at the library, and Kunal will be playing rugby. If you can’t, or don’t want to stay with them, I’ll call Diya or Trent or Lara or Eric and ask any one of them to take the children to their place.”

  Long fingers closed over her hand holding the phone, and Neha gasped. She turned to find Logan by her side.

  Delicately, he removed the cell from her grip and brought it to his ear.

  “Ma’am? This is Logan Warrington. I’m Neha’s boss.”

  A frown etched on his face, making it appear dark and foreboding. Fear, on behalf of her mother, skittered through her. Given the wound-up state Logan appeared to be in, he could bite the head off anyone.

  “I’m really sorry to be putting you all through this. You see, Neha is my last hope. I knew she wouldn’t let us down, and ma’am, allow me to tell you what a great job you did bringing up such a reliable and trustworthy woman.”

  She almost choked. So he would butter her mother up? Her eyes grew wide when a smile touched his face.

  “Yes, well, we do what we can. I’m glad you enjoy the broadcast.” He paused. “Yes, she’ll be my co-anchor tonight.”

  He turned those dark eyes onto her then, and she froze at the same time molten heat ran through her veins under his deep gazing.

  “I’m sure she’ll look good, too, ma’am. Be sure to catch the news later.” Another pause. “I bid you a very good evening.”