Dermont rang me at home this morning. Apparently, your mobile was switched off.’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘I had a headache—’
‘Never mind that now.’ He waved a hand in front of his face as if swatting her words away. ‘The point is, he wants to front the media.’
Della closed her eyes. ‘Dear God.’
‘Exactly. What the—?’ He ran a finger around his shirt collar. ‘What the flaming heck are you going to do about it?’
Stifling her gut reaction to panic, she took a deep breath. ‘I’ll talk to him, Marvin,’ she said in a level voice.
‘Talk to him? You’ll need a jackhammer to get through his thick skull.’ He glanced at the door, as if afraid he’d been overheard. ‘Do it quickly. And let me know how it goes.’ He picked up his phone and Della stood to leave.
‘Don’t worry, Marvin,’ Jason said. ‘I’ll help her.’
Della turned on her heel, her eyebrows rising in disbelief. The nerve of him. She would have made it clear she didn’t require his assistance if Marvin hadn’t already begun his phone conversation. She strode towards the door, and he scuttled across the office behind her.
In the passageway, Jason dashed in front and barred her way. ‘Don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Della,’ he said. ‘I was only trying to help. Didn’t mean to make it sound like you couldn’t handle it.’
No, of course he hadn’t. Not in front of her, anyway. Out of her hearing was a different matter. He’d been laying the groundwork for his advancement for the past six months. And she wouldn’t have a problem with him taking her position, as long as he waited for her to vacate the office before moving in.
If things went to plan, and she won the promotion to partner as expected, it would work in her favour to have a ready-made replacement. She wouldn’t hesitate to recommend Jason in that case. If, however, he continued to make snide comments like the one she’d just witnessed, she might suggest the company look elsewhere for its new senior consultant.
Ignoring his squirms, she got down to business. ‘Start making up the media kits,’ she said. ‘I emailed the media release to you late last night. Have you seen it?’
‘Haven’t checked my in-box yet.’
‘Well, do so. You should have everything else you need on file. Also, contact Catherine and tell her we need an employee communication plan. I’ll get in touch with Tom Dermont.’
‘Do you want me—?’
‘I can handle him,’ she said curtly.
‘Of course.’
She dismissed him with a flick of her wrist and walked back to her office. With a sigh, she walked around her desk. She didn’t enjoy acting the heavy-handed boss, but she knew his sort, and wasn’t naïve enough to believe another way existed. She’d had to be tough to reach this level in the firm and she’d have to be tougher still if she made it to partner. Though it didn’t come naturally to her, a certain amount of ruthlessness was essential.
A message waited on the desk. She picked up the slip of yellow paper as she slid into her chair. Melanie Crowe, the in-house PR officer employed by Dermont Chemicals. Couldn’t be good news. She’d better deal with Melanie’s problem first before tackling Tom.
Melanie was out of her depth in this type of crisis, and Della felt sorry for her. Tom had tried to cut costs by hiring a green graduate rather than an older, experienced practitioner.
If Tom had any real business sense, he’d put his money into developing a less confrontational relationship with the local residents and preparing emergency plans for incidents such as yesterday’s fire. They’d still need to bring in consultants for the legwork and logistical management, but at least they wouldn’t have journalists filling their stories with hearsay and uninformed comments.
It wasn’t in her interests to suggest this, though. The firm made a tidy sum from Dermont’s contract, and as he wouldn’t—or couldn’t—work with anyone but her it put her in a strong position with the senior partners.
‘Melanie, you called.’
‘Oh, Della. Thank goodness.’ Melanie answered sounding breathless, and it was only eight-thirty in the morning. ‘It’s escalating,’ she said.
‘I thought the fire brigade had it under control.’
‘They did, but then it reached one of the chemical storage tanks and there was an explosion. Oh, hell, two firefighters are in hospital.’
‘Badly hurt?’
‘Stable. Thing is, toxic fumes are leaking. The police are evacuating the locals.’
Della swore under her breath. This was the last thing they needed—more ammunition for the residents’ protest group. If they could convince the state government the chemical plant should be reclassified as heavy industrial, Dermont’s would be forced to move operations to the outer suburbs, well away from residential areas. Such a move would cost Dermont’s a fortune, and could even mean the end of their operations if Tom Dermont decided to pull the plug and cut his losses.
‘Thanks for letting me know, Melanie. I’m going to speak to Tom now. He wants to run the media conference, and I need to talk him out of it.’
Melanie snorted. ‘Good luck.’
‘I thought I’d suggest Dan Barlow as the ideal person to take his place.’
‘Perfect. He’ll come across as a good guy. Plus, he knows what he’s talking about. He won’t try to bluster his way through like Tom would.’
That afternoon, Della flicked through one of the media kits Jason had piled on a table near the entrance to the large room. As well as her media release, he’d included background details on the Dermont products, a piece on the company’s contribution to the state economy, a fact sheet regarding a proposed project to clean up the production process—if Tom Dermont ever approved the expenditure—and other bits and pieces. They’d hired a large conference room at a city hotel and sent out the media advisory notes. Now all she could do was hope Tom stayed away as he’d promised in their phone call.
Dan Barlow entered the room, and she hurried over to him. ‘Thanks for agreeing to do this, Dan,’ she said.
‘Not a problem. Glad to help.’
She chatted to Dan for several moments then, as she swung around, doing a speedy check of chairs available for the stream of media representatives coming through the door, she spotted Luke. He caught her eye as he took a seat in the back row, and his smile made her empty stomach go into freefall. She made her way to the back of the room.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, standing close behind his chair.
He twisted to face her. His gaze drifted from the top of her head to her toes and back up to her face. A blatant inspection. She had to stop herself gasping out loud. He’d never looked at her like this before.
‘I like the way you dress for work,’
