Keely got up, picking up her coat. ‘I’ve got to go…home to Lachlan—gosh, I still can’t believe my luck.’
‘You deserve it,’ Tahlia offered, grabbing her friend’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze. ‘And more.’
Emma shoved her wedding stuff into her large bag. ‘You know you could start looking around for another job?’
Tahlia shook her head. ‘I’ve got too much invested here.’ And she’d rather walk on hot coals than admit failure, especially to her mum. She was going to get that promotion even if she had to wait another year for it.
‘But don’t feel bad that you’re running off to the Big Apple.’ Tahlia slapped the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically. ‘Leaving me all on my own to battle the Darrington disaster.’
Emma laughed. ‘You’ll do just fine.’
Tahlia nodded, forcing a smile to her face. ‘Of course. Always.’ She was always fine. She had been fine when her father had died, fine when her mother had gone to work, fine when she’d come home to an empty house, fine when her mother hadn’t made it to her graduation, her birthdays or their lunch-dates, and she was fine now.
She could handle Darrington all on her own. She’d find out who the man was and what he’d done so that she could explain how he could get her job promotion—to herself and to her mother.
Maybe he just had better luck than her. She bit her bottom lip. Maybe she should get a few charms to be on the safe side, to cover all bases, to ensure her success.
She’d do anything to get where she wanted to go. She was a professional.
Chapter Four
Everything in life has a price.
And I never know what it is until it’s too late.
CASE sat in the large leather chair and surveyed his new office again. He couldn’t quite believe he was here.
He’d spent all yesterday calling in employees, talking to them, encouraging them to tell him just how much they did in the company and how much more they could do, given the right incentives.
Work was going well.
This was going to be good for him. It reminded him of where he’d been six years ago, took him back to simpler times, when he still believed in so many things, including love and marriage.
Framed prints hung on the walls, large ferns sat in the corners looking as if they were in need of a water or a wax—he never could tell if indoor plants were fake or not—the sofa in the corner was cream with tan cushions that matched the rug under the glass and chrome coffee table.
The place could do with a makeover, as one of the employees had suggested, to improve morale. He’d have to look into it. And Miss Tahlia Moran.
Case snatched a pen from the desk, slapping it into his palm. No. There was no mystery to unravel. Nothing to explore except how to get this office dynamic working to its highest potential.
The only responsibility he had was to the company. So what if she’d vanished during the meeting yesterday, somewhere after her report and the general housekeeping.
He stabbed the pen into the file on his desk. He wished she’d left his thoughts as easily. He couldn’t stop wondering about her and that lack of light in her eyes.
He’d half thought of calling her into his office yesterday but had caught himself. There was no rush here—he could take his time to investigate the office politics, the hierarchies and issues at WWW. Besides, he would run into her eventually. They were on the same floor.
But he hadn’t yesterday.
Was she avoiding him? He rubbed his jaw. She could easily be. Women were strange creatures. She could be put out that he hadn’t mentioned his position to her when he’d bumped into her. But dammit, he hadn’t wanted anything to interfere with her first impressions of him. It was so rare for him to have people see him as himself.
For once in his life he just wanted to be Joe Anybody.
Much good it had done him. He was her boss now, and the cool professional look she had cast him across the boardroom yesterday had said it all.
‘Mr Darrington,’ Miss Moran offered, tapping on his door. ‘You wanted to see me?’
She stood tall with high black heels, black trousers that held her curves and a white shirt with the top buttons undone, giving the hint of a lace undershirt.
His blood heated.
Her hair was in the same wild knot as yesterday, her lips were pursed, her green eyes cool and assessing, a finely arched eyebrow quirking as though she was not impressed to be here.
‘Yes.’ Case cracked his knuckles. He’d spent the last twenty-four hours trying to work out why it mattered so much what she thought of him…
He moved around his desk, extending his hand, offering it to her. ‘Case.’
She nodded.
‘And you are Tahlia Moran, Director of Sales,’ he suggested lightly.
She raised her eyes to meet his. ‘Guilty,’ she said, striding forward and taking his hand.
Heat sizzled up his arm. ‘Nice shake, Miss Moran.’
She pulled her hand from his smoothly. ‘Ditto, Mr Darrington.’
‘Call me Case.’
Tahlia stepped back. ‘I have to say…before… downstairs…you caught me off-guard. I’m usually quite…sane.’
‘O-kay,’ he murmured, watching the rise of colour in her cheeks. Was she embarrassed?
His body buzzed at the thought. Did she like him? Had she felt the heat between their palms too? Had she felt that buzz yesterday when they’d collided?
Was that why she was so upset that he was her boss—because she felt the electricity between them but maybe had her own rules for not getting involved with workmates?
Hell, he had the same ideals. But if there could be one person he’d compromise his rules for it would be her, and that incredibly sweet innocence that she’d just bubbled with yesterday morning.
Now he’d never know…anything she said would be sugar-coated for ‘the boss’.
Case straightened his tie. He was giving himself a headache. There was only one way to find out what was going on with Tahlia Moran and put his mind at rest…
He just hoped he liked the answers.
Tahlia glared at the man standing behind her desk in her office with her title as casually and comfortably as though he owned the place. ‘If we could make this quick, Mr Darrington, I have work to do.’
He
