you dare criticize my father. And don’t you dare make those sexist, misogynistic comments when we all know who’s doing the work in this company. You sold out to the highest bidder for personal gain. You’re now multimillionaires and we’re unemployed.’ She tried and failed to keep the emotion out of her voice. ‘Where was your sense of responsibility? Shame on you. Shame on all of you.’
Michael Anderson’s mouth was slack with shock. ‘Who do you think you are?’
‘Someone who cares about the future of this company and the people who work for it. If you make one single one of them redundant before at least considering other options then I’ll—’ What? What could she do? Aware that she was utterly powerless, the anger suddenly left her and Polly turned and stalked back round the table, furious with herself for losing control. She felt spent and exhausted and utterly dispirited. She’d let everyone down. Instead of making things better, she’d made them a thousand times worse.
Damn, damn and damn. Why couldn’t she stay cool and calm like these fat, overblown men in suits? Why hadn’t she gone to bed last night? Being tired always lowered her burn threshold.
Deafened by the extended silence, Polly felt misery slide through her veins. Her anger had blown itself out, but not before she’d ruined everything. ‘Look—I’ll go, OK? I’ll walk out of here right now without a fuss. Just don’t make everyone redundant.’ Mortified by her behaviour, she directed her words at Damon Doukakis, who still hadn’t made a move. ‘Please don’t make anyone redundant because of me.’ Horrified to feel the hot sting of tears, she closed her laptop and was about to leave the room when Damon Doukakis spoke.
‘I want to see that presentation. Send it to my handheld.’ His voice hard and inflexible, his eyes locked on Polly with the deadly accuracy of a laser guided missile. ‘I want to see everything you’ve put together.’
Mute with shock, Polly couldn’t move, and it was Michael Anderson who recovered first.
‘She’s just a glorified secretary, Damon. Honestly, you really shouldn’t—’
Damon Doukakis ignored him. He was still looking at Polly. ‘You can tell the staff they have three months to prove their worth. The only immediate job losses will be the board.’ That unexpected bombshell sent ripples of consternation across the room.
As the meaning of his words sank home, Polly felt lightheaded. He wasn’t getting rid of the staff. They had a stay of execution.
Making a strange choking sound, Michael Anderson tried to loosen the collar of his shirt. ‘You can’t get rid of the board! We’re the engine of this company.’
‘If my car had an engine like you it would have been scrapped,’ Damon said grimly. ‘You revealed your commitment to the company when you sold me your shares. I don’t want anyone working for me who can be bought. Nor do I want to find myself slapped with a lawsuit for sexual discrimination, which will undoubtedly come my way if you stay with the company.’
Watching the other man crumble, Polly felt like cheering, but Damon Doukakis was still speaking, listing his demands with a complete lack of emotion.
‘I’m moving the entire operation into my London offices. I have two floors empty and a team ready to facilitate the move.’
Polly’s desire to cheer instantly faded. ‘But the staff have been here for ever and—’
‘I don’t deal in “for ever”, Miss Prince. In business, the best you can hope for is “for now”. My second in command, Carlos, will take over the day to day running of business for the foreseeable future.’
‘But Bill Henson has been in that post for—’
‘For far too long,’ came the smooth reply. ‘He can work with Carlos for the next three months. If we’re impressed, we’ll take him on. I never lose good people. But I run a meritocracy, not a charity.’
Michael Anderson’s face was a strange grey colour. ‘Damon—’ He cleared his throat. ‘You need someone to show you our systems. Explain how the company is run.’
‘It took me less than five minutes with your balance sheet to assess how the company is run. The word is badly. And I’ve already decided to keep someone on who has inside knowledge.’
Michael sagged and his smile was slack and desperate. ‘That’s a relief. For a moment there I thought—’
‘Which is why Miss Prince will come and work alongside me for the next three months.’
Work alongside him? Oh, no, not that. ‘I’m ready to step down, Mr Doukakis.’
‘You’re not stepping anywhere, Miss Prince. You and your laptop are going to be right by my side as we sort out this mess together.’ His words were deliberately ambiguous and Polly wondered which mess he was referring to—the company, or her father’s relationship with his sister.
‘But—’
‘My people will be here within the hour to organise the move into my offices. Anyone who would rather not move is, of course, free to leave.’
‘Wait a minute—’ Polly felt as if she’d been flattened under a heavy object. She’d assumed she’d be the first out of the door. She was ready and willing to make that sacrifice. In fact she was desperate to put as much distance as possible between her and Damon Doukakis. ‘I resign.’
His eyes locked on hers. ‘Resign and I’ll make the entire workforce redundant this afternoon.’ The suppressed anger in him licked through the room, sizzling everyone around the table to a crisp.
‘No!’ Polly felt dizzy with horror. ‘They haven’t done anything.’
‘Having glanced at your balance sheet, I find it all too easy to believe you. I’m asking myself what anyone in this company has done over the past year. It’s only fair to warn you that I don’t hold out much hope that these people will still be working for me in three months. I’ve seen more activity in a graveyard.’
Polly’s limbs weakened. She thought about Doris Cooper, who had worked for her father in the post room for forty years. Recently widowed, the woman made a habit of giving the wrong post to the wrong people, but no one wanted to upset her so they quietly reorganised everything when she wasn’t looking. Then there was Derek Wills who couldn’t spell his name but made lovely cups of tea to keep everyone going. If she walked out they wouldn’t even make three weeks, let alone three months. ‘Fine,’ she croaked. ‘I’ll work for you. But I think your behaviour is appalling.’
‘Your opinion of me is unlikely to be lower than mine of you.’ He came right back at her, the full power of his anger slamming into her shaking frame with the force of a hurricane.
Polly stood rigid, impossibly intimidated despite her attempts not to be. There was something terrifying about that splintering dark gaze and the raw power of the man in front of her. She didn’t need to see the contempt in his eyes to know he had a low opinion of her and even the heels on her boots didn’t help. He still made her feel small in every way possible. But none of that was as scary as the other feelings she was trying so desperately to ignore. The quickening of her pulse and the strange melting sensation inside her tummy. ‘You’re not being fair.’
‘Life isn’t fair.’ His tone was hard and uncompromising.
