Trading Places with the Boss. Raye Morgan
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“You missed the introductory address,” Jaye told the men as they met them, her tone accusing but also just this side of flirtatious. “You missed all the information about what we’re supposed to do.”
“That’s what we have you lovely ladies here for,” Rafe said with a humorous gleam in his eye. “We’re counting on your legendary attention to detail.”
“We’ll share the burden,” Shelley said lightly. “Next meeting, you two can attend, and Jaye and I will play hooky.”
Rafe raised one silky dark eyebrow, looking surprised. Did he think she was being a bit presumptuous, considering he was the highest-ranking Allman Industries executive here and she was a lowly administrative assistant? Little did he know that situation was about to make a radical change. Her pulse was racing at the thought.
Her gaze met his and caught for just a beat or two, and suddenly she knew it was more than her attitude he was aware of. He was thinking back to last New Year’s Eve when, for just a moment, the possibility of something romantic had sparked between them. It hadn’t lasted long, and they had both spent the rest of the year avoiding each other like the plague, despite the fact that they worked for the same company. But it was always there between them, every time they met.
“We’ve got a table in the bar,” Jim Tanner was saying. “Come on and fill us in over drinks.”
Jaye very happily took his arm and began teasing him about how surprised he was going to be when he found out what the theme of the contest was this year. That left Shelley and Rafe to walk stiffly side by side, each trying to ignore the other.
The bar was noisy and crowded but the table was being saved by a couple of other employees from Allman Industries and soon they were all six jammed around it. Shelley talked and laughed with the others as they ordered drinks, but she noted that Rafe had very carefully taken a seat as far away from her as he could get.
“Well, I really wish someone would explain to me exactly what we’re doing here,” Dorie Berger, a pert young office worker, said plaintively. “Everyone keeps telling me this is such a privilege to get to attend, but no one ever bothered to fill me in on what goes on at these things.”
“This is the way it works,” Rafe said, giving her a smile that seemed to Shelley to be mostly about showing his admiration for Dorie’s tight-fitting sweater. “The competition is in a different city each year. Each company is allowed to submit up to three teams made up of seven of their employees each. They all spend the four days of the conference getting their presentation honed and ready. On the last day, each team does its thing in front of the judges and the winner gets a nice big trophy for the trophy case at work—and the prestige that goes with it in the industry.”
“But what’s the point?” Dorie asked, still looking bewildered.
“It’s supposed to make us think outside of the box and come up with new ideas,” Jim Tanner offered. “The point is to encourage us all to strive for excellence in our business dealings.”
“Not quite,” Rafe said deliberately, and suddenly everyone was quiet, listening to him.
That very fact alone drove Shelley wild. Why did they all act like he was the most marvelous thing since the invention of the wheel? He was just a very handsome, very dynamic, very charismatic—regular guy. That was all.
“The point,” he was saying dramatically, “is to give the best damn presentation in the competition. The point is to grind your competitors in the dust. The point…” He raised his glass and looked around the table, his own dark eyes hinting at a steely determination. “The point is to win.”
“Hear, hear,” said Jaye, and they clinked glasses all around.
Shelley joined them, but her heart wasn’t in it. Taking on the leadership role here was going to thrust her into a position she might not like very much. She was going to have to fight Rafe all the way. Was she really ready for this?
Quickly she shoved that thought aside. She would have to think about that later, when she was alone. Right now dealing with being at a table under the direct observation of Rafe’s too-knowing gaze was about as much as she could handle.
“Well, what are the competitions like?” Dorie was asking.
“It’s different every year,” Jim said. “One year you had to pretend your product was a politician and develop an election campaign around it. Campaign signs and speeches.”
Shelley smiled, then offered up, “Last year we had to develop a ten-minute musical for our product, with each person on the team singing something for at least one minute.”
“Oh, no!”
“Did we win?” Rafe asked, gazing at her levelly.
Shelley hesitated. “I think the A team came in fifth.” She saw his look of disapproval and she bristled. “That’s not so bad. There were ninety-two teams competing.”
His gaze sharpened. “So you came last year? I thought this gig was on a three-year rotation.”
Attendance was considered a perk and company policy was that each employee could only do it once every three years so that the spots were shared more equally around the workforce.
“Yes, I came last year,” she admitted. “Actually, Harvey Yorgan was supposed to come with you all today, but his wife went into premature labor, so I got volunteered at the last minute.”
Actually, she’d volunteered herself, and with an ulterior motive that she couldn’t reveal to anyone. But that was something she hoped no one would figure out, most of all, Rafe Allman.
“Well, we’re down to the wire,” he said, looking at her expectantly. “Let’s have it. What is it this year?”
She licked her dry lips. “This year one member of the squad has to change places with the boss.”
He stared at her as though he didn’t understand what she was saying, so she amplified.
“The highest ranking person on each team has to become just one of the employees,” she explained. “And one of the employees becomes the new boss.”
The air seemed still between them as he digested this setup. Then he shrugged.
“Great.” Rafe gave her a comical grin. “So I don’t have to do any work.”
Everybody laughed. Everybody but Shelley. He was still staring into her eyes, and she was staring right back. She was not going to let him intimidate her. But her heart was still pounding.
“So who is it?” he asked at last, but surely he already guessed.
“Jaye will be trading with Jim.” She smiled at her friend, then glanced at Rafe. “And you and I will be switching,” she added, trying not to sound as breathless as she felt.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Interesting.”
Something in his voice—and his eyes—sent a shiver slithering down her spine.
“Don’t show fear,” Jaye had said. She’d been joking, but she’d been closer to the mark than