could have told her that he considered redundancies a sign of failure. He could have told her that he understood his responsibilities as an employer better than anyone and that he ran his business according to his own rigid principles.
He could have told her all of that, but he didn’t.
She’d contributed to this shameful mess.
Let her suffer.
‘I’m going to kill him. I’m going to put my hands round that bronzed throat and squeeze until he can’t utter another sarcastic word and then I’m going to cut holes in his perfect suit and squirt ketchup on his white shirt …’ Feeling powerless, Polly lowered her head onto her hands and thumped her fist on the desk. ‘What do women see in him? I cannot imagine voluntarily spending a single minute in his company. He’s a heartless, sexist monster.’ But that hadn’t stopped her being hyper-aware of him all the way through their confrontation. There was a sexual energy between them that seriously unsettled her. How could she find him attractive?
‘I don’t know about him being a monster. The man is smoking hot.’ Debbie put a stack of empty boxes onto the floor and started clearing the office. ‘At least we still have our jobs. Let’s face it, the figures are so bad he could have dumped us all and no one could really have blamed him.’
Knowing that it was true, Polly lifted her head and stared at her friend in despair. ‘Trust me, that might have been the better option.’
‘You don’t mean that.’
‘I don’t know what I mean, but I know I can’t work for that man.’ Exhausted and stressed, she tried to blot out images of his cold, handsome face. Cold, she reminded herself. Cold, with no sense of humour. ‘I’m not going to last a week. The only thing in doubt is whether I kill him before he kills me.’
‘You can’t walk out! The future of the staff depends on you staying!’
‘How do you know that?’
‘We were listening at the door.’
Polly sank down in her chair. ‘Have you no shame?’
‘This was a crisis. We needed to know whether to ring the job centre or not.’
‘Ring them anyway. You won’t want to work for him for long.’ Trying to galvanise herself into action, Polly tugged open the drawer in her desk and stared down at the jumble of belongings. ‘I need a different pair of tights. Hot pink clearly isn’t his favourite colour. I cannot believe I’m about to change my clothes because a man asked me to. How low can a girl go? I should have told him where to stuff his dress code but I’d already antagonised him more than I should have done.’
‘He didn’t like the tights?’ Debbie raised her eyebrows. ‘Did you tell him you’re wearing them because—?’
‘Tell him?’ Polly rummaged through the drawer. ‘No one tells Damon Doukakis anything. They just listen while he commands. This is a dictatorship, not a democracy. How the hell does the man keep his staff?’
‘He pays top rate and he looks bloody gorgeous.’ Debbie stacked books into the boxes. ‘Calm down. I know you’re angry, but look on the bright side—he fired the board. And you were brilliant.’
‘I lost my temper with Michael the Moron.’
‘I know. You were amazing. You really let him have it. Pow. Smack.’ Debbie abandoned the packing and punched the air like a boxer. ‘Take that you sexist pig. No more looking up our skirts. No more demanding cups of coffee while we’re all running round like demented baboons doing the work he’s too lazy to do. We were all cheering.’
‘There’s nothing to cheer about. Haven’t you ever heard the phrase out of the frying pan into the fire? Damon Doukakis is a macho control freak with serious anger issues—’ Polly silenced the internal voice that reminded her that he was protecting his sister. That was no excuse to go completely over the top.
‘You can forgive a man a lot when he looks like that.’
‘I’m not interested in the way he looks.’
‘Well, you should be. You’re young and available. I know you’re anti-marriage because of your dad, but Damon Doukakis scores a full ten on the sexometer.’
‘Debbie!’
‘Oh, chill, will you? You’ve been uptight all week. It’s bad for your blood pressure.’
Polly had her nose back in the drawer. ‘I don’t have any boring black tights.’
‘Just wear leggings. Here’s a box—start packing.’
She took the box and forced herself to breathe slowly. Even though she’d grown up knowing that sex and love were two different things, the sexual tension between her and Damon horrified her. ‘I wouldn’t touch the man with a long pole. Apart from the fact that I can’t be attracted to a man who doesn’t smile, I wouldn’t want to have sex with a guy who is about to make a load of innocent people redundant. It doesn’t show a caring personality.’
‘You can’t expect him to smile when he’s taking over a company as unusual as ours.’ Debbie closed the box she was packing and started on another. ‘Most people just don’t get the way we work here. I mean, I love it, but we’re not exactly conventional, are we? Nothing about your dad is conventional.’
‘Don’t remind me.’
‘Relax. When your dad finally emerges from wherever he is this time, at least he’ll still have an intact company even if it does belong to someone else. If Demon Damon was thinking of making everyone redundant immediately he wouldn’t be mobilising an army of removal people to transport us from economy city to Doukakis World.’ Debbie carefully lifted a plant. ‘I’m excited. I’ve always wanted to see inside that building. Apparently there’s a fountain in the foyer. The plants are going to love that. So are the fish. Running water is very soothing. He must care about his employees to give them something as lovely as a fountain.’
‘It’s probably there so that despairing employees can drown themselves on their way out of the building.’ Polly walked across to the noticeboard she had on her wall and started taking down photographs.
‘You always say that everyone has a sensitive side.’
‘Well, I was wrong. Damon Doukakis is steel-plated. There’s more sensitivity in an armoured tank.’
‘He’s super-successful.’
Polly stared at a photograph of her father standing on a table at a Christmas party with a drink in one hand and a busty blonde from Accounts in the other. ‘Whose side are you on?’
‘Actually, Pol, I’m on the side of the person who pays my salary. Sorry if that makes me an employment slut, but that’s the way it has to be when you have dependants. Principles are all very well, but you can’t eat them and I have two cats to feed. Careful with those photographs.’ Debbie looked over Polly’s shoulder and gave a nostalgic sigh. ‘That was a good night. Mr Foster had one too many. He’s been nice to me ever since that party.’
‘He’s
