Harlequin KISS November 2014 Box Set: Behind Closed Doors...Fired by Her FlingWho's Calling the Shots?Nine Month Countdown

by Anne Oliver

  ‘There’s a salary issue I need to discuss with you,’ she said coldly, her harsh gaze flicking between him and Lula.

  ‘Okay.’ He nodded stiffly. ‘I’m just discussing something with Lula, I’ll come and find you when we’re finished here.’

  Darla snorted and inclined her head a fraction, her eyebrows shooting up, suggesting she knew exactly what they were going to finish. ‘Fine.’ She turned on her heel and stomped out, banging the door closed behind her.

  He turned to find Lula had stood up and was clutching her hands together in front of her, her eyes wild.

  ‘Dammit!’ she said quietly, not meeting his eye.

  ‘Lula, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that without checking the door was locked first.’

  She shook her head. ‘We shouldn’t have done it at all. So unprofessional.’ Her voice was low with self-disgust.

  ‘It was my fault. I’ll smooth things over with Darla. Offer her a wage hike or something.’

  Lula gave him an incredulous look. ‘You think you can buy your way out of this?’

  He tensed in annoyance. ‘I don’t know, maybe?’

  She looked so offended he had to fold his arms against the power of her glare.

  ‘I’m such an idiot. This is never going to work between us. Not if you think money is going to solve everything and certainly not if you think it’s okay to try and get your own way by seducing me into retracting my professional opinion.’

  He took a deep, sudden breath in response, the force of it burning his throat. ‘That’s not what I was trying to do.’

  ‘Isn’t it? Really? You weren’t trying to shut me up by kissing me?’

  He didn’t reply.

  Because she was right.

  She gave him one last, hard look before straightening her clothes and leaving the room.

  He stared after her, feeling like the lowest of all lowlifes.

  She was absolutely correct of course, he did have a problem with relinquishing his control over things—over everything. He was so used to stepping in and taking over, like he had with his family’s business—using money or charm to get his way—that he’d acted that way towards Lula without thinking.

  And he’d screwed everything up.

  * * *

  What the hell was she thinking?

  She could never work for Tristan when he had the power to overrule anything she said or did just by touching her. To silence her. She’d been a fool to think otherwise.

  And now Darla was bound to tell everyone at the station what she’d seen and once again she’d be the centre of whispered gossip and speculation. She shuddered at the thought.

  She appeared to have got herself caught in a vicious circle.

  That night, she ignored Tristan’s calls and pretended to be out when he knocked on her door for ten minutes straight, her chest tight with sorrow. It was never going to work between them. He seemed reluctant to give up his job managing the station, which he appeared to value more than his relationship with her, and she couldn’t keep working for him when that was the case.

  Not that she hadn’t known from the beginning that this was doomed to fail.

  After spending her teenage years being passed from parent to parent like a troublesome pet that nobody wanted any more she needed to feel part of something solid. To be with someone who was willing to make gestures that made her feel safe and wanted and cared for. Not someone who was happy to ride roughshod over her opinions and integrity to get his own way.

  And he’d made it perfectly clear he wasn’t the type to get married. Considering the way her heart had plummeted when she’d heard him say that, she knew a relationship with him would never survive.

  She couldn’t be with someone who wasn’t prepared to put themselves on the line for her. It mattered too much. Even if Emily thought it was a mad whim and told her repeatedly she was living in the dark ages to expect a piece of paper to keep a relationship together. Lula still wanted it. She wanted the promise of it. The romance.

  To be loved so much by the person that she was in love with, he was prepared to take the leap of faith with her.

  * * *

  The show the next day was a tough one to get through. It felt as though her head was full of rocks and her mojo was hiding somewhere in the depths of her soul.

  ‘Hey, what’s with all the dirgey music?’ Claire asked when she brought Lula her fourth cup of coffee into the studio while a track was playing.

  ‘It’s a minor key kind of day, Claire. I’m expressing my melancholy.’

  Claire paused and gave her a discerning look. ‘Does this have something to do with Tristan, by any chance?’

  Lula glanced round sharply, blood rushing to her face. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, Darla’s been shooting her mouth off about finding you and Tristan—’ She gave an uncomfortable cough. ‘Being friendly with each other in his office.’

  Lula’s brow pinched uncomfortably under her frown. ‘You know about that?’

  Apparently Tristan hadn’t been able to buy Darla off.

  ‘Yeah.’ She held up a hand. ‘Not that I blame you, he’s a total honey.’

  Lula sighed and dropped her head into her hands. ‘I guess everyone thinks I’m a terrible tart who gets what she wants by sleeping with her bosses?’ She screwed up her face as she looked back at Claire, not really wanting to hear the answer, but unable to stop herself from asking the question.

  Claire wrinkled her nose in surprise. ‘What! Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone here loves you, they want to see you happy and if that means having a hot fling with Tristan then fine, do it. We know you’d never screw us over, Lula, you’re too much of a professional for that.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. Of course.’

  ‘I don’t know if I can do it any more though, Claire. I don’t feel like I have any control or power in this relationship.’

  Claire shrugged. ‘Well, maybe when he’s found someone to take over the running of the station that won’t be a problem any more?’

  ‘Maybe. But there’s also the small matter of an ex-girlfriend that I don’t think he’s over yet.’

  ‘Really? You’d never have guessed. He doesn’t take his eyes off you for one second when you’re in the same room together. If you ask me, he’s one smitten kitten.’

  Lula stared at her in surprise. ‘You think so?’

  ‘Absolutely. I say, go for it.’ She gave Lula a wink. ‘I would.’ Flashing her one last smile, she waltzed out of the studio, letting the heavy soundproof door close with a swish behind her.

  Lula stared into space, thinking about what she’d just heard. Could that be right?

  She had no idea. She appeared to have lost all sense of reality.

  * * *

  Tristan was in his office trying to take his mind off Lula’s wall of silence when Flora the receptionist poked her head round his office door.

  ‘Tristan, there’s a phone call for you on line one. He said he’s your father.’

  He stared at her for a moment before coming to his senses. His father? He must have cut his isolated honeymoon short and picked up the message he’d left about firing Jez.

  Picking up the handset, he cleared his throat then pressed the button to connect him to line one. ‘Dad?’

  ‘Tristan. I’m surprised to find you still there. I thought you’d be back in Edinburgh by now.’

  ‘No, no, still here, fire fighting for your business.’ He couldn’t keep the scathing tone out of his voice.

  His father let out a long, disgruntled sigh. ‘Why the hell did you fire Jez? I wanted the DJ to be moved on, not him.’

  Tristan’s skin prickled with annoyance. ‘Well, I’ve saved you a lot of money and pain by getting rid of hi
m. I’m sorry to land it on you like this, but Jez has been embezzling from the radio station for quite some time.’

  There was a tense silence in which Tristan tapped a pen against the desk, waiting for his father to explode with indignation.

  ‘Yeah, I know about that.’

  Tristan stared at the pen in his hand, stunned, thinking he must have misheard. ‘You knew?’

  ‘Yes.’ His father let out another long sigh. ‘I set him up there as a favour to his father. When your mother died I did rather a bad job of keeping the business going and Jack, his father, bailed me out. I owe him. He asked me to offer Jez this job to get the lazy sod out of his world of philandering and debauchery and give him a purpose—he wouldn’t have taken any help from his own father. I’ve known for some time that he’s been stealing from the company, but it was my way of paying Jack back so I let it slide.’

  ‘Right.’ Tristan had no idea how to respond to this. ‘So, what happens to the station now?’

  ‘I don’t suppose Jez will want to return after being so roundly outed by you so I’ll shut it down.’ From the sound of his voice he was clearly fed up with the whole mess.

  Tristan’s heart thumped hard against his chest as he realised what this meant for the staff that he’d taken under his wing for the last month.

  And for Lula and her dream show.

  ‘Can’t you sell it?’ He knew, even as he asked this, that it wasn’t an option. There was no value in the station; it was saddled with too much debt.

  His father seemed to be thinking along the same lines. ‘No point. I’m still stuck in Bangkok but I’ll be back in two days and I’ll close it down then. Give everyone a redundancy payoff. You’ll be able to get back to Scotland by the weekend.’

  ‘Will you sell it to me?’ Tristan asked before his father could ring off.

  His father snorted in surprise. ‘You really want to take it on?’

  ‘Yes.’

  There was a silence. ‘Okay. Sure. If you want.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Okay then. Consider it yours. We’ll work out the details when I’m back.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  His father laughed quietly. ‘I don’t know what you’re thanking me for, but okay.’

  ‘How was your honeymoon?’ Tristan said, realising in his anxiety about the station that he hadn’t even asked about it.

  ‘Oh fine. A bit boring being out in the middle of nowhere, but we made our own fun.’

  Tristan tried to wipe the icky mental images his father had just implanted from his mind.

  ‘Great, well love to—?’

  ‘Susie.’

  ‘Susie, yeah. Have a good trip back.’

  ‘Will do.’

  His father rang off and Tristan put the phone down and stared at the wall.

  What had he done? Something crazy and very unbusinesslike. But it felt good. It felt like the right thing to do.

  Getting up, he strolled to the door, feeling invigorated with a new sense of purpose.

  He needed to find Lula and tell her what was happening.

  He found her in one of the small offices, taking some quiet time after her show and she looked at him with a wary expression on her face as he entered the room. His heart turned over as he wondered what sort of reaction he was going to get when he told her the news.

  He hoped a positive one, but it was hard to tell with Lula. She always managed to surprise him.

  That was one of the things he liked most about her.

  * * *

  Lula’s heart-rate picked up as Tristan strolled into the room. She sat up straight, attempting to compose herself for whatever was about to play out.

  After giving him the cold shoulder since the incident in his office the day before, she wasn’t sure what state their relationship was in any more. Or whether she’d still have a job by the end of the day. After all, the last time she’d stood up to her boss, she’d found herself unemployed.

  The thought of him firing her now, after all they’d been though, made her feel sick. But more than that, the idea that he might give up on what they had and waltz back off to Scotland drained all the spirit out of her.

  She’d had to draw the line with him though, otherwise she was just some sap he’d used and left behind and she wasn’t prepared to be that girl. Not any more.

  He perched on the edge of the sofa she’d been lying on and blew out a low breath before speaking. ‘I just spoke to my father. He wants to shut the station down now that Jez has gone.’

  Her heart nearly stopped at the unexpectedly awful news and she sat up so straight her neck clicked. ‘What! Why?’

  ‘It’s a long story which involves my father being useless and naïve, but before you panic,’ he held up a palm, ‘there’s a solution.’

  Her heart rate slowed a little. ‘He’s going to put it on the market? Or whatever you do with a company.’

  He shook his head and frowned, fixing her with a steady stare. ‘No one’s going to want to buy it in its current state, the debts are too large and it doesn’t make enough profit for it to be a going concern.’

  He paused and a cold chill ran down her spine.

  ‘So what does that mean?’

  His face was devoid of any expression. This was pure business. ‘The best thing for the station is for me to buy it and keep it until it breaks even, then look at finding another investor or buyer for it.’

  ‘Will you hand over the day to day managing to someone else?’ she asked hopefully. Perhaps she could deal with that, if he was going to be more hands-off.

  But she could tell from the look on his face that he didn’t want to do that. He loved running the station. She’d seen first-hand how he thrived on the buzz of the place and how much better it was running now he was in charge.

  It was good for him and he was good for it.

  ‘It’s probably best if I keep managing it too.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘How long will it take for it to break even?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll have to look at streamlining the staff and there may need to be lay-offs, but based on the initial sums I’ve done, maybe years.’

  ‘Years.’ She put a hand up to her face and rubbed her temple as another horrible thought struck her. ‘I’m the most expensive person here,’ she muttered, recalling how her salary had skyrocketed when she took on the Breakfast Show. Flash could probably retain the rest of the staff if she was off the payroll.

  She stood up, and turned for the door, not wanting him to see her face. ‘Actually, this has all come at an opportune time. I’ve been offered a job in Australia, a really good job, and I’ve decided to take it.’ She couldn’t look at him in case he saw the pain in her eyes. ‘You’ll be able to keep everyone else on here if you’re not having to pay me.’

  ‘What the hell? Where did this come from?’ He advanced on her and she backed against the wall, her blood pounding in her head, making her feel lightheaded.

  She held up a hand. ‘Truth is, I can’t do this any more—pretend I don’t want things to work out with you—because I do, and it’s going to drive me crazy to never be able to have what I want.’

  ‘What do you want, Lula?’ His voice was deep and low and fierce.

  She raised her gaze to look him dead in the eye. ‘The hope that you might want to get married to me one day,’ she blurted. ‘To have an equal partnership and a strong unit for my children that I never felt I had. For you to put a relationship with me before everything else. Even your commercial empire.’

  He looked as though she’d slapped him round the face. ‘This is about me not wanting to get married.’

  ‘Ultimately, yes.’

  Rubbing a hand over his face, he huffed out a dry laugh. ‘I think my head might be about to
explode.’

  Tears welled in her eyes at the flippant way he was dealing with something that meant so much to her.

  ‘If you couldn’t bring yourself to marry the woman who was “perfect for you” then Lord knows I don’t stand a chance,’ she whispered, her chin trembling as she tried to hold it together.

  He frowned. ‘Hang on, are you talking about Marcy?’

  ‘I can’t be your rebound woman, Tristan. I care about you too much for that.’

  He didn’t respond, just stared at her open-mouthed for a few beats longer.

  She nodded once, knowing he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—give her the reassurance she longed to hear, before pushing past him and walking away.

  TEN

  Tristan stared out of the window as his plane flew over the rolling hills of Northern England on its way to Edinburgh, and reflected on the insight that had struck him hard in the middle of the night: that what he needed was to get some sort of closure there so he could move forwards again.

  If he wasn’t going to spend the rest of his life messed up and alone he needed to get past the anger and frustration that had been dogging him for months—no, truthfully, years—now.

  Standing on the doorstep to his brother’s and Marcy’s house a couple of hours later was both nerve-racking and bolstering. Before this point, even the thought of seeing either of them had been untenable, so this was definitely a positive step forwards.

  The look on Marcy’s face when she opened the door to him was a picture. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. ‘Tristan!’

  He waited for the thud of bitter resentment to hit him, but it didn’t come. Strangely, looking at her now, she seemed kind of ordinary, like the sparkle she used to project had gone. ‘Hi, Marcy, can I come in?’

  She glanced behind her into the house as if checking for backup. ‘Jon isn’t here. He’ll be back in a few minutes though.’

  ‘That’s okay, I’ll wait. I need to talk to you both.’

  After hesitating for a couple of seconds she nodded and opened the door wider so he could walk inside.

  She led him into the living room and stood there awkwardly while he looked around at the ultra-modern interior. ‘Nice place.’