by Carole Dean
As she headed to the kitchen to start the coffee, she reread his note. At the bottom of the stationery, in gold print, it read, From the desk of M.P. Dorado.
“Michael Patrick Dorado.” She sighed loudly. “Half Irish, half Spanish, and one hundred percent trouble.”
She was angry with him already, although she did appreciate receiving the reports. He’d been right about that. But he wasn’t right about what he’d said last night—when he’d said she’d soon be asking for his kiss. Not in this lifetime! She’d already made that mistake and look where it got her? She shook her head, at first slowly, then with more determination. No possible way. All she wanted was to be the best executive she could be. And when she did fall in love—if ever—it definitely wouldn’t be with her boss. It would be with someone as far away from work as she could find. A doctor, a lawyer, a tinker, a tailor, anyone except the president of Prisma International.
***
Nikki was in the office before eight. Her morning shower had helped, but it hadn’t been enough to wash away the ravages of a sleepless night. It should have been the happiest, most exciting day of her life, but she was too exhausted to enjoy it. Damn the man! She’d managed to review the reports he’d sent over and was grateful the plan was so good. At least they wouldn’t have to fight about that. The business end of this relationship should go well. The personal part promised to be of a different stripe.
Of course, there was always the chance he would change his mind, have second thoughts about pursuing an employee who threatened to sue him if he persisted. She doubted it. He didn’t seem like a man about to change course. Telling herself she could handle it, whichever way it went, she headed for the coffee room.
“Hi, Amy. I thought I was the first one here.” She looked appreciatively at the fresh coffee coming through the machine. “I’m glad you beat me to it, though.”
Amy handed her a cup and studied Nikki’s face. “You look tired. Everything okay?”
As they stood there waiting for the coffee to finish dripping, Nikki was tempted to tell her about the uncomfortable position she was in: the new job, her feelings—correction, lack of feeling—for their new boss. Knowing how Amy felt about Michael made that impossible. It would hurt her to know his true colors. As for her promotion, it was his job to announce it, not hers. She felt muzzled and resented it.
“I’m fine. A bit too much caffeine last night, maybe.”
Amy looked at the cup in her hand. “And getting an early start on it today, I see. What about lunch today? I still want to talk to you.”
“Sure. How about twelve-thirty?” She was dreading lunch with Amy, but she had promised. She didn’t want to hear about Amy and Michael. Even linking their names together, as she had just done, made her vaguely uneasy.
“Twelve-thirty will be fine.” Amy nodded and was pouring the coffee as Christy joined them in the tiny room.
“Mornin’, all,” Christy reached for a cup and smiled. Her eyes locked on Nicole. “Good Lord, woman, what happened to you? You look like something I step in when I walk my dog.” The words had the right amount of shock.
The three women laughed. It was Nikki who answered, spirits revived by the warm coffee and familiar banter.
“Thank you, Christy. You really know how to make a person feel good. Tell me, are you looking forward to your reassignment to the Northwest Territories?”
It was Christy’s turn to laugh. “Northwest Territories, huh? I hear the place is teeming with tall, sexually-deprived Mounties, and I so love those red jackets.” She appeared to seriously ponder the possibilities. “With a properly outfitted van, the territories could be mighty interestin’” She wiggled an eyebrow. “When do I start?”
Nikki chuckled and turned to Amy. “Remind me never to take Christy on unless I’ve slept a good twelve hours the night before, would you?”
The happy group was interrupted by the appearance of Darlene Nichols. The air stiffened in the room as everyone exchanged polite good mornings.
“I’m told this is where I find the coffee.” She looked around the tiny cubicle as if in serious doubt.
“This is it, Darlene. Would you like some? It’s fresh.” Amy’s voice was friendly and polite.
“Yes, please, and a cup for Mr. Dorado, if you don’t mind.” She continued to look around the room. At the mention of Michael’s name, Nicole blanched. He was in early.
Amy handed Darlene the two cups of coffee.
“There’s milk in the fridge and sugar in the cabinet,” she pointed to the storage above the coffeepot, “if you want it.”
Darlene was looking at the two mugs as though she’d been handed tin cups.
“They don’t, uh, match,” she said lamely.
Nikki heard Christy cough and knew she was covering a giggle. “Excuse me,” Christy managed to suppress the laugh, “I’ve got calls to make. Nice seeing you again, Darlene.”
Nikki turned her attention to Darlene. “I’m afraid there isn’t much formality here. Will Mr. Dorado mind terribly if his mug is a Kingway original?”
“He won’t mind at all.” Michael’s presence claimed what space was left in the tiny room. He took the mug from Darlene’s hand. “If there’s coffee in it, I’ll drink from an old shoe.” His green eyes raked across Nikki’s face and up to her burnished hair. The look was approving.
There wasn’t a trace of fatigue on his clean-shaven face. Nikki was convinced he’d slept like a baby. The freshness of his appearance made her feel even more like Christy’s earlier description. She wished now she’d braided her hair instead of only shampooing and brushing it. She raised her eyes to meet his.
“I didn’t expect you until later. I haven’t had time to arrange an office for you.”
“There’s nothing to arrange. I’ll set myself up in the boardroom that adjoins Jayne’s old office, if that’s okay. All we need then is a spot for Darlene. As for being early, I couldn’t wait to get started. I have a lot to accomplish in the time I’m here. And while some things are more important than others—” he smiled down at her “—it all needs to get done.”
“Yes, of course. I’m sure we can find an office for Darlene.” His words didn’t make her blush but the look in his eyes did. She turned to put some sugar in her coffee. She never used sugar.
“Why not the small meeting room in the sales department?” Amy piped. “Your group can do without it for a while.”
“Good idea,” Nicole said. “I’ll go and clear it.”
“No need for that.” It was Darlene. “I can manage with Amy’s help. I’d like to do it now, Amy, if you’re free. I have a briefcase to go through, and if you can provide someone, Michael has some correspondence to get out.”
“Sure. Fill up your mug, and let’s get to it,” Amy said.
Darlene followed Amy’s friendly directions and the two of them left. Nicole could hear Amy chattering as they headed down the hall.
Now alone with Michael, she fought her impulse to escape. The room should feel emptier, the air lighter. It didn’t. Determined to be casual and unruffled, Nicole reached for the coffeepot.
“Would you like more coffee?” She lifted the pot in his direction. He was staring at her, his look warm and curious.
“No. Thanks.”
“You’re sure you’ll be all right in the boardroom? You could take Jayne’s office. It might be a more productive environment.”
“The boardroom is fine.”
“Well, if there’s nothing I can do for you, I’d better get back to work.”
“I didn’t say there was nothing you could do for me.” He took a step toward her.
“Don’t!” Every nerve in her body jangled out of sync.
“Don’t what?”
“Just don’t, that’s all.” Nikki moved back against the cabinet that held the coffeepot. Michael, looming in the door, blocked any hope of escape. She had no choice but to stand her ground.
Michael extended his hand to her hair. His touch was light.
“I’ve never seen your hair loose. Only imagined it.” He coiled a strand around his index finger, gently pulled it through his hand. “It’s beautiful.”
“Michael, please.” Her heart was hammering. She gulped for breath but only succeeded in inhaling the cool, woodsy scent of his aftershave. She exhaled to regain her sanity. What was he wearing, nerve gas?
“Please?” He dropped his hand, and for a moment watched the rise and fall of her breasts. “What do you want, Nikki? You can have whatever you want.”
There was a curious magic in the soft words and dark green of his eyes and a powerful undertow that made Nikki’s head reel in resistance. With effort, she found the right words in the chaos of her mind, but she didn’t recognize the throaty voice that spoke them.
“I want to go back to my desk. You asked me to arrange a meeting for ten o’clock. I think I’d better get started.”
“Of course. This is only day one. There’s lots of time.” Again he touched her hair. “You should always wear your hair loose.”
Then, like magic, he was gone.
***
Was she deliberately teasing him, Michael wondered, loosening her brilliant hair, wearing the silk blouse with just enough buttons open to tantalize him? He could barely keep his hands off her. He didn’t want to keep his hands off her, damn it.
He was angry that the source of her distrust was rooted in an experience with another man, another employer. That and her job. The all-important job!
Michael discarded his jacket and moved to the window. He stood there, legs apart, thumbs hooked into his belt, staring out at the waters of Burrard Inlet. It was raining, a bleak, drizzly rain that poured fine and steady into the smooth harbor waters.
He knew he had to come to terms with Nikki’s feelings about her career—and his own. He admired her ambition. She approached work with focus and determination, as he did. He thought about her making her presentation at the Whistler meetings, poised, prepared, and in total command of her material. She was, as Jim Mallon had said, a pistol.
She was also the best candidate yet for the presidency of Prisma. He let out a gusty, frustrated breath and gripped the windowsill. The irony of it! He had the power to give her the one thing she’d always wanted and in doing so he could lose her forever. It was a bloody cruel joke. Could he do it? Give her what she wanted most? A place at the top of her profession. A place she had earned by her own efforts. And if he did, what then? What would be left ... for him?
His mind wandered restlessly, then settled on a vision of glowing hair and steady blue eyes. He could feel the fullness of her lips, the curves of her body pressed against him. Inhaling, he smelled the woman scent of her. His body tightened, and he cursed. Never had a woman affected him so deeply!
He was falling in love with her, and he wasn’t happy about it. Miserable was more like it.
He didn’t relish the idea of taking second place in any woman’s life, not even Nicole’s—and definitely not to a job.
Not that he was compelled to give her the presidency. There were no shortage of applicants. He rolled his eyes and turned away from the window. Hadn’t he interviewed dozens since he’d began the search. It didn’t have to be Nikki.
Darlene strode in. “”Michael, if you have a moment, could you sign this?”
Michael reached for the papers in Darlene’s outstretched hand, glad of the interruption. His thoughts were leading him nowhere.
He leaned over the long mahogany table to sign the document and another couple of letters that she placed neatly in front of him. When he handed them back to her, she gave him a taut, nervous smile but made no move to go.
“Is there something else?” he asked.
“Yes, there is. Could we talk for a moment?”
Michael had never seen her so ill at ease. “Sure. Sit down.”
Before taking a seat, Darlene went back and closed both the boardroom door and the one to Jayne’s empty office. Only then did she take a chair and look at him. Her question, when it came, was direct and to the point.
“Michael, is there any chance you will appoint me president of Prisma International? Any chance at all?”
Michael looked at Darlene, appraised her, ran a hundred possible scenarios through his mind. She was intensely loyal, knew the business inside out, lived and breathed for the corporation, and would happily work her inch-long red nails to stubs if Prisma asked it of her.
Could she do it? Could he do it? Could he make Darlene king—or Queen—of the Prisma hill?
He motioned toward a chair. “Sit down, Darlene. It’s time we talked.”
***
At eleven-thirty, a smiling Nicole closed the door of her office and leaned solidly against it. She was anxious for a moment of solitude, time to get herself together and dam the happy tears welling in her eyes. She’d never have believed herself to be such an emotional sap.
The meeting with the Kingway staff had gone well, better than well. Nikki was overwhelmed at the positive response. They had applauded her! It was a solid vote of confidence. And Michael ...! Michael was terrific. He hit all the right notes. While he praised her accomplishments, he was careful to include everyone in the office. His announcement left them all feeling like it was a promotion not only for her but for every one of them as well.
She touched her cheek where he had kissed her lightly to congratulate her. She could feel it still. How special he was, she thought again, how incredibly, wonderfully, maddeningly special.
He’ll be gone in a month, one short month, she reminded herself. After this morning, she was more convinced than ever that there was no future in a relationship between them. It would be a disaster for her and all the people who were depending on her. Nothing was more important than keeping her guard up.
But when she turned to her desk, that guard took another assault. In its center was a single red rose and a card. She touched the rose, then sat in her chair to read the card.
Her heart quickened. “Blood red for passion’s fire.”
Nikki didn’t hear the first rap on her door, but the second got through to her.
“Come in.” She stuffed the card under her desk pad.
“Only me, Niks. I wanted to give you my personal congratulations.” Amy crossed the office to her friend and gave her a hug. “I couldn’t be happier. It’s so exciting for you. I’ll miss Jayne of course, but, well ... I think it’s great, that’s all.” Her smile was genuine. It was Nikki’s voice that faltered.
“You don’t mind then, my being—” she formed two quote marks in the air “—the boss and working so closely with Michael?” Nikki could have cut out her tongue. What on earth made her say that? Amy appeared not to notice.
“Of course, I was terribly disappointed when I found out I wasn’t going to be working for Darlene.” She grinned and wiggled a brow. “As for you and Michael, from what I can see, you’ll be a great team.”
“I’m so glad you feel that way. I’m going to give it one hundred percent, I promise.” Without warning, Nikki thought about her father. She must call him, and soon, tell him about her promotion.
“You’ve never given less. I don’t think you’ll stop now. But I didn’t come in here to put more air in your already over-inflated ego.” Another quick smile. “I came about lunch. It seems we are going to have to delay again. The whole place, or most of it anyway, is heading across to the Bistro at the quay. It seems you are to be the guest of honor.”
Nikki pretended a grimace. “Do I have to?”
“You know you do. You don’t want to disappoint everybody, do you?” Amy’s voice was stern.
“I’m kidding. I wouldn’t miss it. What time?”
“As close to twelve as you can make it. See you then. And Niks—” she looked back before closing the door “—I’m truly happy for you. Remember, we definitely are having lunch tomorrow.”
Nikki nodded.
The door had scarcely closed before it opened again. This time it was Darlene. On invitation, s
he stepped inside but declined Nikki’s offer of a chair. There was something different about her, Nikki thought, a sadness in her face. Nicole wondered what she was doing in her office. She waited. They’d scarcely spoken since the meetings at Whistler.
“Michael would like you to move your things into Jayne’s office.” Darlene said. “Tomorrow, if you can. He thinks it will be more productive if you are closer to each other.”
Nicole wondered if Darlene had any idea what Michael meant by productive. She sighed inwardly, knew she couldn’t refuse. It made perfect sense for her to take Jayne’s office. She was the G.M., and like it or not, it would be necessary to work closely with Prisma’s president until his departure date. She wished she could stay here, but there were no grounds to argue for it. Besides, she was going to appoint a new sales manager, and he or she would need this office.
“I’ll move first thing in the morning.” Nikki forced a cooperative smile to her face. “Is that all?”
Darlene went on in an emotionless tone. “I’d also like to confirm you’ll be at the Kingway production facility at three o’clock today. Michael would like to duplicate today’s announcement of your promotion. He wants a personal meeting rather than a memo.”
Again, Nicole was impressed. Too often executives of Michael’s caliber were unwilling or uninterested in making time for personal visits to production facilities, where, in her opinion, the real work was done. She wondered where the urbane, elegant Michael had learned such common sense. It was probably a contrived method taken from a management book, she thought uncharitably. Her gaze fell to the red rose on her desk and she swallowed. Trying to find fault with the faultless wasn’t easy.
“Nicole?” Darlene was looking at her strangely.
Nikki snapped back to the task at hand. “Sorry. Yes, of course, I’ll be there at three. I think it’s great that Michael is making the time to go there.”
“You’ll find out that Michael, like his mother, always tries to do the right thing. Most times, he succeeds.”