Two years since her last real date wasn’t that long, not when she was ensuring a successful career for her future.
She clutched the files remaining. It didn’t matter anyway. Downstairs had been nothing but an anomaly. She wasn’t going to have to deal with that guy, or that abhorrent lack of control again.
‘Hey, you,’ Tahlia offered Emma, stepping into her friend’s cubicle and dropping the files on her desk. ‘Flirt magazine’s next issue—they want their update to match the theme and want another competition page designed and put on the site.’
Emma took the file. ‘Sure thing.’ The glow of love was bright in her eyes. ‘Did you hear? It’s time. Your day.’
Tahlia shook herself. ‘Em?’
‘Haven’t you logged on yet?’ Emma shot her a quizzical look. ‘Raquel just sent out a mass email to everyone for a meeting in the conference room at half past. Sounds like it could be it.’
Tahlia shook her head, kicking herself for not going through her normal routine—checking her voicemail, SMS and inboxes, both cyber and deskbound.
‘And?’
‘And the whispers suggest it’s about the Marketing Exec position.’
Tahlia’s belly fluttered. ‘She’s made a decision? Finally?’
‘Yep, it sounds like the Rottweiler has come through. So you’d better get spruced up.’ Emma tossed her blonde bob, her smile widening. ‘Now you don’t have any excuses not to get out there.’
‘Out there,’ Tahlia echoed, the words ricocheting down her spine, making her skin gooseflesh and the image of that cute-suit bounce around her brain.
‘Out there dating. Sheesh, Tahlia, anyone would think from the look on your face that you’re not keen to find Mr Right.’ Emma clapped her hands. ‘I’ve asked Harry and he has a couple of single mates and Keely says Lachlan is thinking about the possibilities for you too. It would be just perfect if you had someone special to come to my wedding with.’
Tahlia opened her mouth and closed it. What could she say? She had wonderful, interfering, matchmaking-maniac friends who were dying for her to find happiness like they had.
‘May I?’ she asked slowly, gesturing to the keyboard. Could the promotion really be hers today? Could she dare to believe it finally had come?
Emma rolled her chair away from her desk. ‘You have to see it to believe it, right?’
Tahlia stepped forward, clutching the mouse and logging on, clicking her way to her inbox. ‘The wording, the tone, the undertones could all mean so much…’
‘You’re still worried about the rumours that the company isn’t going so well?’
Tahlia glanced at her friend. ‘You know as well as I do that the whispers suggest jobs are to be axed and no one can deny the fears spreading are of a major shake-up or shake-down.’
‘And the latest gossip is that the owners have drawn too much of the cash flow out of the company to fund their overseas romps and WWW Designs is going down, down, down,’ Emma said dramatically.
‘That’s over-exaggeration if ever I heard it.’
Emma nodded, her eyes wide. ‘I know.’
TO: [email protected]
CC: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Meeting
All staff,
Be advised that the meeting at 9am in the conference
room is mandatory for all staff to be advised of the
latest developments.
Don’t be late.
Raquel Wilson
General Manager
Tahlia sighed. ‘It doesn’t say anything regarding my promotion.’
‘What else could it be?’
‘The possibilities are endless, Em. It could be a new client coming on board, it could be about the rumours, it could be anything.’
‘But it could be your promotion. The Rottie always holds an all-staff meeting for changes in personnel.’
Tahlia straightened Em’s files on her desk. Was there a reason to get her hopes up? Was it about the position for Marketing Executive?
If it was, there was no one else suitable for the job so it had to be her. A bubble of excitement rose up in her chest.
Emma stood up, slapping her on the shoulder. ‘Come on. It is so about your promotion. It has to be.’ She grinned. ‘And now you have no excuse to get serious about that part of your life you’ve put on hold while you got your career all solid and stable.’
A chill raced down Tahlia’s back.
She smoothed down her suit jacket, shaking off the feeling. It would be fine. ‘Yes, not a problem,’ she stated casually to her friend. A relationship didn’t have to mean disaster, as long as it didn’t involve rash decisions, irrational emotions or incredibly embarrassing interactions with too-cute guys.
‘You don’t sound so sure.’
Tahlia raised her eyebrows, forcing a smile to her mouth. ‘I’ll handle it like I’ve handled everything— with criteria, a plan of action and safeguards.’
You could never have too many safeguards, as her mother had shown her. Her mother hadn’t considered any were necessary, that love was enough…and it was so not enough.
‘O-kay,’ Em offered, shooting her an odd look, moving out of her cubicle. She glanced at her watch. ‘So are you ready for the meeting?’
‘Absolutely.’ She was ready for her dream to come true and Em was right—what else could it possibly be about?
Nothing she couldn’t handle.
Tahlia pushed open one of the conference room doors and slipped inside with Emma behind her, weaving through the throng of people, keeping to the wall side of the large room.
She concentrated on the acceptance speech that she’d been practising for months and not on the expanse of glass and views of Melbourne on the far side.
She looked behind her but couldn’t see Emma.
Her stomach churned with butterflies. This was going to be the highlight of her year and she damned well deserved it. Why Raquel had waited until now was beyond her.
This was it.
She smiled and her mind filled with all the congratulations that everyone would offer, the sweet proof that Raquel acknowledged her skills and her potential, the incredible thrill of telling her mother she’d finally made it another rung up the ladder.
Raquel cleared her throat, dropping a large folder on the table.
The room fell silent.
‘Okay. Thanks for coming, staff,’ she said in her trademark nasal bellow. ‘Of course you all know that the position of Marketing Executive has been open forsome time and is long overdue being filled. I am pleased to announce that a decision has been reached—’
Tahlia held her breath, searching the crowd for her best friends, finding friendly faces with smiles as wide as her own must be.
Emma had been right. This was it—her dream realised, her goal achieved, vindication for endless overtime and a landmark achievement that would ensure that she’d never have to do it hard like her mother.
So what if Emma was getting married and moving to New York to a new job with the love of her life and Keely was taking maternity leave—she would have her promotion.
She swung her attention back towards Raquel.
Sapphire-blue eyes caught hers.
Her heart missed a beat.
It was him.
The cute-suit looked taller, dwarfing the staff around him at the head of the table near Raquel the Rottie, standing out all the more in that tailored black suit, the strong lines of his face resembling more a Greek god than…was he an employee of WWW Designs?
What was he doing here? She hadn’t heard of anyone being taken on lately, especially a tall, dark and devastating thirty-something.
‘Let me introduce to you our new Marketing Executive…’ Raquel paused for effect, shooting Tahlia a tight smile, sweeping her hand past Tahlia to the cute-suit. ‘Case T Darrington.’
Tahlia’s heart slammed against her chest and sank to the pit of her belly where all the butterflie
s dropped dead, adding to the weight.
Her vision blurred, her throat closing over. It couldn’t be. No. It wasn’t possible. There had to be a mistake.
Not him.
Not anybody.
It should have been her!
Raquel put up open arms, her smile wide, avoiding meeting Tahlia’s gaze. ‘Welcome to the great team here at WWW Designs.’
Tahlia dragged in a slow ragged breath, fighting the sting behind her eyes. How…?
The man behind Raquel sidled out into the open, putting his hands up and rotating slowly like a prizefighter who’d just knocked out the competition. And he had. Effortlessly.
Her.
Chapter Three
All men are created equal.
But what about women? And are we talking sexism here or feminism-gone-crazy? Has Raquel hired this cute-suit because there are just too many women in the company? Or just because she doesn’t want me?
CASE moved to the head of the table, smiling at the new faces around him, taking in the pause after Raquel’s announcement, the hesitant applause, the expressions being cast from face to face.
It was to be expected. They had probably figured the position would be filled in-house by someone they already knew who wouldn’t question or threaten their way of doing things. And he’d just thrown them out of that comfort zone by being thrown into the mix.
A new face. A loose cannon. Someone who they weren’t sure of. If only they knew.
‘Thank you, Raquel,’ he offered the woman who the vision-from-the-lobby had mentioned earlier.
And then there she was, in the audience. He tore his gaze from her, the fact that she worked for him sending warning signals.
‘Hello, everyone,’ he said smoothly, moving up beside Raquel. ‘I’m thrilled to be here and look forward to working with you all. I hope in the coming days to meet you all personally.’
Case glanced towards the beauty again; her face was a mask of professional curiosity. He straightened his tie. Yes. It was time to get serious. He wasn’t here to get distracted by a pretty face. He was here to sort out one-hell-of-a-mess.
The challenge was what he needed, had needed since his marriage breakdown, and he’d excelled at finding them. He’d gone out of his way to be involved in the most complicated business deals, play the most exacting sports and pursue the most beleaguered companies.
Since his marriage, women were the one area where he went for simple. Easy, light liaisons with pretty socialites thrilled to be on his arm.
Case scanned the room. WWW Designs was in a perfect mess too. Enough to keep him in busy excuses for not having time for a personal life. And enough to redeem himself for the tragedy his marriage became.
Hell, the look on his parents’ faces when he had told them it was over had been the worst part of the whole affair. They prided themselves on their thirty-five years of respectable and spotless marriage, had wished him the same fortunate alliance—the only blemish now was their only child’s marital failure.
It was years ago now, but he still hated the feeling of disappointing them.
Case shook his hands out from the balls they’d curled into. He fixed a soft smile to his face and took a breath. ‘I’ve heard great things about the team here at WWW Designs and I’d like to say that I’m very keen on hearing your ideas on making improvements, not only in your department, but to make this company even greater.’
Raquel moved forward. ‘Thank you, Mr Darrington. I’m sure everyone can’t wait to share their thoughts with you,’ she barked, shooting a hard look around the room. ‘And I’m sure you’re eager to get started.’
‘That I am,’ he said, running his eyes over the crowded room, resting on a pair of very fine green eyes.
‘Wonderful. Great. Then let’s get on to housekeeping. Tahlia, where are we at on hooking the contracts for the private schools’ websites? Mr Darrington, this is Tahlia Moran, Director of Sales.’
Tahlia Moran, aka The Beauty, stepped forward, her shoulders thrown back, her chin high, a chilling blankness in her green eyes that pierced his own for a moment.
Case tossed her name around in his head. It suited her…sweet like her voice and her reaction to him, and strong like the way she held herself and that look.
What was with that look?
She swung her focus to Raquel Wilson. ‘We’ve sub-mitted our ideas to the various schools that were looking and are awaiting their respective decisions,’ she said in a cold, lifeless monotone.
His gut tightened.
The woman he’d bumped into downstairs had glowed with such passion that he could imagine clients swarming towards her like bees to spring blossoms.
What was going on in the office to cause such a turnaround in her? Case scanned the room. How many others here were having their enthusiasm sucked out of them? And by what?
He had to find out.
The company’s future success could hinge on him sorting it out—and he knew just where to start. With a tall, dazzling mystery that begged to be explored.
He just wasn’t sure whether he should.
Tahlia stared at her computer screen, willing the words to clear so she could read her mail and get on with the job she still had.
TO: [email protected]
CC: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: A crazy crazy world
Missed you at the end of the meeting. I expect you needed some space. Gawd, Tahlia. I’m so sorry. There must be some reason the Rottie chose that creep over you. Maybe there’s something going on with them—he is rather cute for a creep.
I think the world has gone crazy. First your promotion goes to some total stranger and then Chrystal. I just had the weirdest talk with her about men. No. Not about size. Or quality. Or quantity. She was asking my advice on how to land Mr Right! Freaky, huh? I guess our office nymph has decided, finally, that she wants more than just sex from men.
What do you think Darrington’s T stands for?
Tyrant?
Em
And if you need to talk, or scream or yell or cry, I’m here for you, sweetie.
Tahlia threw herself back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. Yes, the guy was a creep, sauntering into the building, flaunting his good looks, great suit and that sexy mouth and sharing that oh-so-deep voice.
Acting as if he was just anybody when innocent hard-working employees bumped into him was wrong, and totally inappropriate behaviour in the circumstances.
The nerve of the guy to meet her gaze in the meeting, all warm and soft, as though he was naïve and innocent and ignorant to the fact that it was her promotion he’d stolen.
He didn’t need the job. With a suit that expensive it was surprising he was working at all. He probably had a silver spoon stuck well and truly up his—
She slammed a fist on her desk. He probably wasn’t even qualified, had probably figured there was nothing wrong with using his wealth and connections to jump over hard-working employees on his ruthless climb to the top.
She’d hardly heard his acceptance, but had seen him smiling at her, as though his stealing her job wasn’t enough, that he had to rub salt deep into the wounds of her dashed hopes and dreams.
Bastard. After she had been so stupid and babbling and stupid downstairs.
Gawd. He was her boss now. He was probably going to sack her…especially after what she had said about Raquel…unless he had already told Raquel. Then that was it, she was dead—the Rottie would eat her alive!
How could she have messed this up so badly?
How could she have failed?
Everything had been going so well. She’d had everything under control… How could she not have twigged that the Rottie was interviewing other candidates for the promotion she desperately wanted?
Tahlia cringed. How could she have let her mouth run away with her with the one person who should have seen her as absolutely together?
At least she’d reported the update without
revealing a shred of the turmoil that raged within her. She was well practised at keeping it all deep inside.
Dammit. Her mother hadn’t let anything get in her way to the top—not her grief, the rumours, motherhood, her limited education, nothing.
She straightened the photo on her desk of her mother in her favourite power suit with her arms crossed and chin up.
It had taken her mother over a year to save up enough for that suit. Tahlia had watched her come home from the supermarket every day, take off her uniform, make dinner and then iron, and study and iron, and go to night school and iron.
Her mother had said her power suit was forged by iron, and was therefore even more charged to give her the boost in business she needed.
Her mother had taught her about goals and strength and determination and, dammit, she wasn’t going to just give in.
She was a professional, like her mother, and she was going to hold her head high and deal with what life threw at her. Hell, she was used to it. Life had thrown a few big ones their way and they’d not only survived, they’d got stronger.
Even the rumours about Tahlia’s dad hadn’t stopped her mother—if anything they had driven her. Her mother’s passion had inspired Tahlia…and Tahlia was not a quitter like her father. She was a winner, a survivor, and totally in control of her own life…and its surprises.
She’d survive this like she had survived everything else in her life to date—she just didn’t know how to tell her mother…
Tahlia picked up a pen and stabbed the notepad in front of her. Damn that man. Damn Raquel. Damn the world.
How could this happen…right when she was going to prove that she’d be okay, that she was somebody too, that she’d made it?
Life wasn’t fair.
Who was that man?
Sammy’s, their local coffee shop, was busy in the afternoons but perfect for the quick after-work drink Tahlia and the girls had before they headed home.
Sammy’s was mandatory to catch up on the weekend goss if they hadn’t got the chance at work. Most days they’d go the entire day and not get to talk, depending on their work commitments, like the rest of today.
Although Tahlia had to admit she hadn’t been so much working as hiding in her office, smothering her thoughts with work rather than trying to make sense of this disastrous turn of events.
At the Boss's Command Page 2