enough drive to take WWW Designs into the next decade, her people skills were on a par with those of an angry Rottweiler. In fact, several employees had taken to calling her Raquel the Rottie behind her back, and Lord help them if she ever found out. Keely had a sneaking suspicion that in this case the Rottie’s bite would be every bit as bad as her bark.
Keely gritted her teeth and fixed a smile on her face. ‘I was waylaid by a client.’
‘Lachlan Brant, you mean?’ Raquel’s eyes took on a predatory gleam, the same look she got whenever a lucrative client set foot in the office.
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Good.’ Raquel threw the pen she’d been holding on top of a pile of paperwork that looked as if it would keep her chained to her desk for the next decade. ‘He’s your new assignment.’
Oh-oh. When Raquel said ‘assignment’, it meant trouble. Co-workers avoided one of her special assignments like the plague—she demanded you tail the client like a detective, finding out every nitty-gritty detail to make sure their account was the best and therefore would lure further big business for the company. In a way, that was what kept WWW Designs at the top. However, the thought of wearing the gorgeous Lachlan Brant like a second skin for any length of time had Keely wanting to hotfoot it to the nearest ice cream parlour—and she’d kicked that habit a long time ago.
Resisting the urge to run as fast as her legs could carry her, Keely did her best to look keen. ‘Sounds like a wonderful opportunity but I’m kind of snowed under with other accounts at the moment. Flirt has just come onboard and I—’
‘Lachlan Brant is your number one priority as of now. I’m sure you’ll find a way to juggle the rest.’ Raquel stood and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows that took in an impressive view of Melbourne’s latest cultural icon, Federation Square, and the beautiful dome of Flinders Street Station. ‘I have every confidence in you, Keely. If you do well, there could be a promotion in this for you.’
Great. Just great.
How could she refuse tailing Lachlan Brant’s well-toned tail in exchange for a chance at the big time?
‘I’ll do my best.’ Inwardly sighing in resignation, she knew that in the Rottie’s case her best often wasn’t good enough.
‘See that you do. Now, bring the man in question up here and let’s see if we can get him to sign on the dotted line.’
Keely nodded, managed a grin that she knew must look like a grimace, and headed back to the foyer to find her new assignment.
Lachlan stood as soon as she entered the reception area and his sheer presence hit her all over again. The man was serious drool material—and, by that cocky grin, boy, did he know it.
‘Ready for me now?’
Ha! If he only knew how ready…
She nodded. ‘Follow me.’
He did exactly that and she was aware of him every step of the way to Raquel’s office. Thankfully, he didn’t have a clue to her identity as a moonlighting heckler and she hoped it stayed that way.
‘Your name sounds familiar. Have we met before?’
Her hand stilled on the doorknob to the Rottie’s office and she gulped. So much for breathing easy.
‘I don’t think so,’ she managed to get out, without a trace of apprehension in her voice.
‘Keely is rather an unusual name. I’m sure I’ve heard it recently.’ He fixed her with yet another piercing glare and she could almost imagine him stroking an imaginary goatee, like some Freudian professor trying to discover the meaning of life as he racked his brain to place her.
Stifling a grin at her mental image of the gorgeous psychologist in front of her even remotely resembling one of his ancient predecessors, she knocked on Raquel’s door and waited for the usual barked command to enter.
‘Come in.’ Judging by the decibel level, Raquel was keeping it down to a dull roar in deference to Lachlan’s status as prospective ‘assignment’ material.
‘Is this a bad time?’ Lachlan muttered under his breath, placing a hand in the small of her back to guide her through the door.
If she’d learned one thing it was never to slander her boss with anyone other than Emma and Tahlia, and especially not with strangers. However, with his innocuous touch burning a hole through her cool wool jacket, Keely lost all rational thought for a moment.
Concentrate, girl. She needed the promotion to Director of Graphic Design, and babbling in front of her boss and her newest project was not the way to go about it.
‘Raquel is very busy,’ she said, eagerly pushing open the door to escape the intimacy that seemed to envelop them in the deserted corridor.
‘I don’t speak to prospective clients like that when I’m busy,’ he muttered as they entered the airy office, a slight frown marring his brow.
The Rottie bared her teeth in an attempt at smiling and shook his hand. ‘Good morning, Mr Brant. Take a seat and let’s get started.’
So much for pleasantries. Raquel picked up a folder and slid it across her desk.
‘Call me Lachlan. And surely all this paperwork is a mere formality?’ He gestured to the folder he’d barely flicked through. ‘I’ve already done my research, and it looks like WWW Designs will suit my needs, so let’s dispense with the sales pitch. I’m eager to get started straight away.’
Raquel’s eyes gleamed behind her rimless glasses. She was obviously pleased at landing a big client with seemingly little effort. ‘Well, that was relatively painless. Glad to see you’re a decisive man, Lachlan, and I’m pleased that you’ve chosen our firm to handle your Internet needs. Why don’t you take these documents with you, leave them with Chrystal once they’re signed, and let Keely show you where she works her magic?’
Magic? The Rottie must really want to land the Brant account, badly.
‘I’m looking forward to it.’
And, just like that, Keely had the sudden urge to bolt, promotion or not. Lachlan stared at her with a hint of speculation in his eyes and, with her imagination working overtime, she could’ve sworn she read more than an interest in her design skills there.
He continued, giving her valuable breathing space. ‘Your company seems to offer exactly what I’m looking for.’
She tried to break eye contact with him and failed, suddenly knowing how a cobra felt, trapped under the hypnotising stare of a mongoose.
Besides, she was obviously reading more into his words. How could a man like him be remotely interested in her?
Clearing her throat, she finally managed to speak. ‘If you’ll follow me, we can get started now.’
The corners of his mouth twitched again, as if he was having difficulty keeping a straight face, and she could’ve bitten her tongue. Obviously, he had a different idea to what getting started meant.
Rather than making some wisecrack, as she had half-expected, he inclined his
