Bidding on Her Boss. Rachel Bailey

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auction.”

      “I was sorry to miss that night, it sounded like a lot of fun,” Anne said, chuckling. “So how do you want to handle this from here?”

      He rubbed a hand through his hair. “She’s got a lot of potential, and I want to see Hawke’s Blooms benefit from that, but I don’t want any suggestion that she bought her way into a promotion. How about you get someone else to go out and assess her? Don’t tell them that the idea came from me, just let them go to the Santa Monica store without any preconceptions and see her work.”

      “I’ll see what I can arrange and let you know.”

      “Thanks, Anne.”

      He hung up the phone, feeling very satisfied with his day’s work. The only thing that could make it better was to be the one who actually gave Faith the promotion, so he could be there when she found out about it. But he didn’t want her to think this had anything to do with their kiss, so it was better that she had a fair and independent assessment first. He had no doubt that whoever did that would see what he’d seen and recommend her for something more senior.

      But still, a good day’s work indeed. He smiled, thinking about Faith’s reaction. She was going to be over the moon.

      * * *

      As Faith picked out a long-stemmed apricot rose from the bucket at her feet, Mary appeared across the bench from her with a folded piece of paper in her hand.

      “I’ve just had a call from head office about you,” she said, her voice accusing.

      Faith stopped what she was doing and looked up. “About me personally?”

      Besides the initial paperwork when she’d started at the store, she hadn’t had any direct dealings with the head office other than the impersonal pay slips. She wiped her hands on her apron and waited.

      Mary planted her hands on her hips. “Have you been talking to the head office without my knowledge?”

      “Of course not,” Faith said, and then realized she’d been talking to Dylan on the weekend without her manager knowing. And would be talking to him again about their next two dates. But he had her phone number—he wouldn’t be contacting her via her manager.

      Hands still on her hips, Mary lifted her chin as she spoke. “It was Anne in Human Resources. They’re offering you a promotion.”

      Faith’s breath caught. Hang on...

      “A promotion?” she repeated, trying to make sense of it.

      “To the head office.” Mary thrust the piece of paper at her. “They emailed the details.”

      Faith took the paper but didn’t want to open it in front of the entire store. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said and went out the back door to the lane. Then she opened the folded email printout.

      It was a formal letter of promotion to the head office. To a desk job. She scanned the list of duties and found they were all things that didn’t involve customers. Or flowers.

      Frustration started simmering in her belly. She’d spent most of her life being told what would happen to her. Announcements would come that she’d be moving to another family member’s house the next week, that she’d have to change schools, that her father would be visiting and taking her to a theme park, that he would be returning her to yet another relative afterward. The best thing about being an adult was that she was in charge of her own life.

      So getting notice out of the blue saying she was being moved to a desk job that she hadn’t applied for and certainly didn’t want was particularly unwelcome.

      She was ambitious, yes, but not for just any promotion. She had a very clear vision of what she wanted in her career, and this job—being stuck in a boring office, away from customers and the daily joy of working with flowers—wasn’t it.

      Besides, was this really out of the blue?

      She’d kissed the CEO, and in less than a week he’d come to the store for a full-day inspection—something the others said he used to do, but hadn’t done since she’d been working there. And now a promotion.

      What was Dylan Hawke really up to?

      The thought made her uneasy, so she went back through the door and told Mary that she was declining the offer.

      * * *

      Dylan drove into the parking lot of the Santa Monica store for the third time in a week, still not sure what to make of the call he’d had from Anne telling him Faith had turned down the promotion. With all her ambition, he’d expected her to leap at the opportunity. So, surprised and intrigued, he’d jumped into his car to talk to her face-to-face.

      As he walked through the door, Mary dropped what she was doing and headed for him, her face covered in a fawning smile. Faith wasn’t in sight, and he was more disappointed than he should have been at not seeing an employee.

      Then she walked in from the cold room, carrying a bucket full of flowers. She was wearing black biker boots that almost reached her knees and a bright purple dress that peeked out around the yellow Hawke’s Blooms apron. Her wild hair was caught up on top of her head and sprang out in all directions. He only barely resisted a smile—this woman was a force of nature.

      Her step faltered when she saw him.

      “Mr. Hawke!” Mary said when she reached him, darting suspicious glances at Faith. “Twice in one week. We’re honored.”

      He paused before answering. He hadn’t planned what he should say here—how had the offer of the promotion gone down at the store level? Should he mention it now, or play it cool for the moment? He glanced across at her as she pulled stems one by one from the bucket. His gut was telling him not to mention it until he’d at least spoken to Faith.

      He smiled at Mary. “I just have a few follow-up questions from the other day.”

      “Well, I’m at your service,” she said, untying the apron strings at her back. “Would you like to talk here, or perhaps at the café next door?”

      “Actually, I’d like to talk to Faith if she has a few minutes.”

      Faith’s hands stilled and her face grew pale. He was torn between wanting to reassure her and wanting to demand an explanation. Instead, he turned an expectant expression to Mary.

      “Of course, Mr. Hawke. If that’s what you want.” But her face was sour. She really didn’t like Faith getting more attention than her.

      “Excellent.” He smiled and rocked back on his heels. “You mentioned a café next door?”

      Mary’s mouth opened and closed again. “Er, yes. Courtney can finish that order. Faith. Can you come and talk to Mr. Hawke, please?”

      “Certainly,” Faith said, wiping her hands on her apron and removing it. The entire time, she kept her gaze down.

      “Thank you,” he said to Mary, and then opened the door for Faith and followed her out onto the pavement.

      “Have I just made things difficult for you in there?”

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