wasn’t about to take up his incredibly rash invitation to be his assistant…and he’d be flat out assessing employee performance, sifting through personnel files and meeting them all, one by one. And it was a big office.
Case swung around, striding to the hallstand and taking out the leash. Edi followed, his tongue wagging, panting his eagerness.
There was no reason to see her at all.
Chapter Eight
What I want in a man on a good day:
1) Tall, dark and reasonably good-looking
2) White collar professional
3) Sense of humour
4) Reasonably sane in-laws
What I want in a man on a bad day: space
‘YES, Mum. I am looking after myself.’ Tahlia threw herself on to the couch, a nuked bowl of low-fat noodle dish in one hand and the phone in the other.
‘And the promotion?’
She stared at the ceiling. ‘No news yet.’ There was no way she was going there with her mother, least of all admitting how the new guy had not only taken her job but had turned her world inside out and wanted her to be his assistant—glorified or not. Her mother would go nuts.
Her mother figured Tahlia had her life together, under control and on plan like hers was. Usually, she’d be right. Today she was so far from it, it made Tahlia’s belly fight the noodles.
She couldn’t tell her.
Her mother would demand the entire story and every detail so she could bestow her wisdom and advice to remedy the problem.
Tahlia was used to it. As a child she’d listened with her mother to motivational tapes, had filled out goal sheets and dream journals and said affirmations just like her mum.
She knew the drill and knew exactly what her mother would say and she couldn’t bring herself to share the sorry news and hear the disappointment in her mother’s voice.
She’d tortured herself enough for one day with Case’s request to be his assistant.
Maybe it was just another way to torture her into submission. Damn the man. Wasn’t it enough that she was tortured by his smile, his eyes, his very fine-looking body? And thoughts of him being all too human with his shaggy little dog and all.
‘I’ll let you know—’ she said carefully, watching her tone.
Her mother tsked. ‘Still nothing? And you’re home this early? Couldn’t you have found something to do at the office to show them that you’re keen?’
Tahlia sighed, pushing the red velvet cushions around beside her. ‘I have been, Mum. But I do have to have a life too.’
She took a mouthful of noodles, staring at the newscaster on the muted TV in the corner, the pile of business management books on her coffee table and the fashion magazine laid open to the latest in-office wear for kick-arse professional women.
‘Are you sure you’ve done everything you can to make your boss see your assets?’
‘Yes, Mum.’ Tahlia couldn’t help but smile. Her new boss seemed very aware of her assets…and the thought of his blue gaze coursing over her body made her nerves tingle anew.
There was a long pause. ‘Are you dating?’ her mother asked in a whole different are-you-running-your-life-right? tone.
Tahlia swallowed the lump of food that threatened to choke her, putting the bowl on the coffee table beside the wineglasses and empty bowls set out for the girls. ‘Dating the boss?’ She coughed. ‘No. Of course not.’
‘I meant dating in general, honey. Of course you’re not dating your boss.’
Tahlia shook herself. ‘Right.’ Of course the thought hadn’t crossed her mind; it probably hadn’t even crossed Case Darrington’s.
‘You know you shouldn’t let anything distract you from what really matters.’
‘Yes, Mum. I know.’
‘You know the risks involved in relationships, how messy they can be…’ Her mother sighed heavily. ‘You know how important it is to get your life right first.’
‘Yes, Mum. I’m getting that promotion first, Mum.’
‘That’s a good girl. I’m so happy that you’re learning from my mistakes and you don’t have to go through what I—’
Tahlia cringed. ‘Yes. I’m so lucky to have you.’ There were some lessons she could do without, even if it meant settling for someone safe rather than someone who was trouble. ‘And don’t worry, I will get that promotion.’
‘Of course you will.’
She shifted in her seat. Some time, after she figured out where Darrington came from and what he was up to. ‘Look, I have to go. My dinner’s getting cold and I have a ton of work in front of me.’
‘That’s the girl,’ her mother gushed. ‘You make it so they can’t do anything but give you the promotion. You just have to do more. Bye now.’
Tahlia rang off, a cold ache in her chest. She had thought she’d done everything, but obviously it wasn’t enough. Yet.
One thing was for sure; Raquel couldn’t help but notice soon that Darrington wasn’t getting the job done—he was spending far too much energy on the staff and neglecting the rest of his work.
All she needed to do was wait…
She gave her neat apartment a slow assessment. She had only one bedroom to minimise rental costs and maximise her saving capability, a small kitchen to make her own food rather than rely on take-aways, a large fridge full of water, fruit and vegetables and frozen meals for one.
It was all about moderation. Why hadn’t her father seen it? Moderation and control was the key to life. If he’d mastered it he wouldn’t have needed to have lied to her mother about the poor state of business, their financial difficulty and his state of mind.
He wouldn’t have needed time to himself so much, wouldn’t have drunk so much and wouldn’t have been on the balcony that night… wouldn’t have leant so heavily on that loose rail.
Sirens still made her body chill and every part of her freeze and listen, for the sound of her mother talking with her father at the table as though he was there, safe, as though they were there, together, as though life was all okay again and her father hadn’t fallen to his death leaving all those problems they said he couldn’t face for her mother.
The doorbell rang.
She put down her bowl and strode to the door. At last. Her friends. She couldn’t have done with her own company a moment longer, especially when her mind was filled with images of Case and his wide shoulders,
