And more money. They were happy with my work—you can see they gave me a great letter of recommendation. But they’re a small company. I was running the office for them. That was the best they had to offer.”
“So you quit.”
“Yes. I loved working at Coffey. But after making several requests for a raise and a promotion, and being told there was nothing available unless I wanted to move over into sales, I felt the job was going nowhere. I wanted to be free to look full-time for something better.” She didn’t mention the sleepless nights since then, the worry and the guilt. What sensible single mom quit her job when she didn’t have another one lined up? At the time she handed in her resignation, she’d felt she just couldn’t bear another day in the job that went nowhere. But months without a paycheck had shown her otherwise.
Tom was nodding. Did that mean he liked her answer?
God. Interviews. Like walking through a minefield of handshakes and loaded questions and cordial smiles.
“What brings you to TAKA-Hanson?”
He would have to ask that one. She hated to lie. And really, why not just tell him the truth? Her uncle’s name was on the tip of her tongue. But with her savings on life support and the perfect job in the palm of her hand, she couldn’t do it, couldn’t take the risk of losing what she needed so much.
She played it safe and trotted out the same story she’d given the woman down in HR. It seemed to fly.
“You’ve heard about our hotel project, then?” he asked.
She had. From Drake, when he’d told her about the job. And from her research the night before. “I saw that article in the Tribune. The Taka San Francisco will open in the fall, right?”
“A soft opening,” he said. “Gives us a chance to work out the kinks. Our grand opening will be in Kyoto, Japan, over the holidays.” He was quiet again, studying his computer screen. “I see there’s a child.”
“Yes. My son, Maxwell. He’s going into first grade this year.”
“You’re not married,” he said thoughtfully, his eyes on the monitor. She’d checked Single on the application.
She hitched up her chin. “That’s right. It’s just Max and me.”
“I’m guessing your ex-husband has the boy some of the time?”
“There is no ex-husband. In fact, Max’s father is not in the picture.”
“You’re…on your own?”
Irritation made her curt. “Yes.” What business was it of his that Max’s dad hadn’t wanted a kid? “Is that important, somehow?”
He sat back from the computer screen and rested his elbows on the arms of his plush leather chair. “I don’t mean to offend you.” His sincere tone and direct gaze banished her annoyance.
“You haven’t.” Or if he had at first, she was over it.
“I only asked about the child’s care because I travel. To the west coast and to Kyoto, currently, to keep an eye on construction and development at our flagship sites. I’m gone for several days a month. Sometimes I’ll go on my own, but more often than not, I’ll need my assistant with me. Will you be able to manage that, with your son to consider?”
Okay, it wouldn’t be easy. But she could make it work. Because she had to. “If I have at least twenty-four hours’ notice, I can make arrangements for my son’s care. And for the next few weeks, it won’t be an issue. Max is down in Mount Vernon—that’s my hometown. In southern Illinois, not all that far from St. Louis. He’s staying with my parents.”
Those dreamboat-blue eyes measured her. Did he find her lacking somehow? Did he have doubts that she could handle a demanding job, with travel, and take care of her son?
Shelly sat tall. Though her palms felt clammy and her pulse raced, she faked calmness and confidence for all she was worth.
A sweet, open, girl-next-door face, a megawatt smile and a sharp mind. Plus, she took no crap from anyone. Even a prospective boss.
Tom had liked Shelly on sight. Not only did she seem exactly right for the job, there was something… direct about her. Something true. Her handshake was firm, her references good ones. Tom had the feeling he’d be able to count on Shelly Winston, that he’d quickly come to trust her.
Strange, to find himself thinking of trusting someone he’d just met. As a rule, he was more cautious. He’d learned early that it never paid to trust anyone until they’d proved they could be depended on.
Whatever. The point was, she seemed competent. Quick on the uptake and qualified.
He was damned relieved to find someone so quickly. If he had to lose efficient, dependable Verna, his assistant since he’d come to TAKA-Hanson, at least it was looking as though he had her replacement lined up.
He scrolled through the paperwork once more. Everything seemed in order. All he had to do was give the final okay and HR would confirm her references. By tomorrow, Verna would be showing her the ropes.
“It says here you can start right away.…”
She beamed him that beautiful smile. “The sooner the better, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Mom. You can tell me. Are you missing me too much?” Max used his most serious voice.
“Yes,” she said, hugging the phone to her shoulder, wishing he was there so she could hug him in person. “I miss you more than words can ever say.”
“You don’t need me to come home or anything, do you?”
“Do you want to come home?”
He hesitated. “Uh. Well…”
She smiled to herself. “I think you mean no.”
“Well. I’m having a whole lot of fun, that’s all. But I’ll come home if you need me.”
“You stay right there. And don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I promise. Tell me about what you’ve been up to with Granny and Grandpa?”
“I caught two frogs down at the creek today.”
“Big ones?”
“Yep.” Her parents had two acres. A small stream ran about a thousand yards behind the house. “Granny let me keep them in a jar. I even punched holes in the top so that they can breathe. But I only get to keep them for a day, she said. I have to let them go so they can eat a lot of flies. I caught some pollywogs, too. One has legs. I want to watch it turn into a frog, but that takes time, Granny says. And Grandpa took me to get ice cream yesterday. I had vanilla. I like vanilla.…”
He babbled away, intent on sharing each small, special detail of his summer at his grandma’s house. Shelly listened and made admiring, interested noises at the right moments, all the while picturing his pointy little chin and his thick, unruly wheat-colored hair. One big cowlick, that hair of his. It stuck up from his head even when she tried to comb it down.
