‘Mr Right turned up for me and Em. He will for you too, but you have to date. It’s a given, an unwritten agreement with Cupid.’
Tahlia let the door go. ‘I’m thrilled for you both, you know that, but I have things to do right now and those things have nothing to do with arrow-wielding midgets or men.’ While a partner was on her to-do list he wasn’t a priority just now. And when it came to relationships she was in uncharted territory—a place she’d rather not be.
Keely sighed. ‘Okay, but he could just appear out of nowhere and sweep you off your feet.’
She didn’t want to be swept; she was thinking more of being quietly and calmly romanced into a sane and sensible partnership that would prove companionable and satisfying for the long term, some time in the future.
‘What does your horoscope say?’
Tahlia tucked her bag tightly under her arm. She’d had quite enough of horoscopes. It wasn’t as if they were always right. In fact, they were hardly right at all…so it didn’t really matter what it said today.
‘Oh, look, there’s George.’ Tahlia veered towards the guard’s desk, sneaking a quick glance at her friend to see if she’d successfully avoided discussing her horror-scope and its nebulous prediction of a certain stirring someone entering her life. ‘I’ve got to thank him for letting me out last night.’
Keely continued across the large marbled foyer towards the lifts. ‘Locked in again, eh?’
Tahlia nodded, straightening her suit jacket. There was only one way to guarantee being the only choice for the position of Marketing Executive and that was to out-work and out-perform everyone else.
There was no doubt she’d get the position when the big boss, Raquel, stopped running around the place trying to tell everyone how to do their jobs, and do hers by finally filling the position.
Tahlia couldn’t help but smile. Raquel’s job would be so much easier once she gave Tahlia the promotion, if only Raquel would get over her fear that Tahlia wanted her job next, rational or not.
‘You know, you’ve got to get out there to find him,’ her friend called across the foyer.
Tahlia stared after her, shaking her head and glancing around her. Trust Keely to share her singledom with the world.
She was well aware of the fact that she wasn’t just going to bump into the perfect man, that she had to go out and find him, eventually, but there were so many more pressing things to deal with first.
First and foremost, she had to secure that promotion. She needed to have job security before mucking around in the dating scene and possibly finding a partner, just in case it didn’t work out.
She wasn’t going to go into any relationship blind, unprepared, naïvely optimistic, or with silly ideas like love was enough.
Her mum had put her career on hold while she had concentrated on motherhood. When things had come crashing down her mother had been left juggling it all, finding out just how hard life was if you neglected sense and relied on love to see you through.
Tahlia was going to wait.
She wasn’t going to be pressured into something she wasn’t ready for just because Emma and Keely were no longer single. She’d wait until after the announcement of her promotion, after she had everything sorted and under control—all bases covered, then she’d handle the man-in-her-life challenge.
Tahlia pulled up at the guard’s station, rubbing the muscles knotted in her neck. ‘Hey, George.’ Tahlia slapped her hand on the counter, shooting him a smile. ‘Thanks so much again for last night.’
‘No problems.’ The greying guard shifted his formidable weight in his seat. ‘Any time for you. They must give you that promotion soon, eh?’
Tahlia nodded, the buzz of her imminent success in climbing another rung coursing through her. ‘Absolutely. It’s so close, George, I can smell it.’
George smiled up at her, his cheeks creasing in full waves of doughnut crescents. ‘Better not to be late, then.’
‘Have a great day.’ She swung around, glancing at her watch, striding forward. George was right. If Raquel was looking for a reason not to promote her there was no way in the world she’d give her the satisfaction.
The job was so hers.
She connected with a wall of warm flesh and the scent of soapy clean male engulfed her.
Tahlia looked down, finding her footing and the guy’s shiny black, very expensive-looking shoes. His suit trousers were black, stretching up long legs that tapered to a nice flat waist.
His soft blue shirt was covered by a black suit jacket that was tailored to perfection, emphasising just how wide the guy’s shoulders were.
His tie was the colour of sapphires…she lifted her gaze…as were his eyes, that met hers with a casual assurance that touched his lips, firm and sensual and full of promises.
Tahlia’s breath caught in her lungs.
She shook herself. She was going to stay focused and on track, no matter how short-back-and-sides, clean-shaven, suit-obsessed, white-collar-cute he looked.
‘Hello,’ he offered, his voice rich and deep, flowing over her like liquid Swiss chocolate. The world tipped.
The man caught her arm, holding her steady, a flash of concern in his gaze. ‘Are you okay?’
His hand was strong, hot and muddling. Blood rushed to Tahlia’s face, filling her head with a blurring that she couldn’t afford right now.
She forced her knees to straighten, strengthen, to not fall for a ridiculous weakness that only happened in a twelve-year-old girl’s dreams.
‘Yes. Of course. I’m fine,’ she managed, lifting her chin and shooting him a smile of cool assurance. ‘Loose heel, that’s all.’
She cast a glance downward to her black heels, willing that one would fall off gracefully and save her from this embarrassment.
His gaze followed, coursing over her suit jacket, down her simple white blouse, over her short black skirt that stopped a good six inches above her knees, down her bare legs to her feet.
His eyes glinted and she had the sudden urge to cross her arms. She felt naked, as though he’d just seen far more of her than he should have. And liked what he saw.
Butterflies swarmed in her belly.
Tahlia jerked her hand up to her face, pushed back her blonde-streaked long fringe and pointed to the lifts. ‘Must go. Love to…’ Die on the spot. ‘But can’t be late for work.’
The cute-suit raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes flashing. ‘That’s it?’
She froze. What? Did he mean to suggest that he was well aware of her disgusting weak-kneed reaction and was expecting her to fall into his arms again? What arrogance!
‘It?’ she enunciated clearly, crossing her arms. What else could he want?
