CHAPTER FIVE
‘WHY is the idea of Megan being groomed to take over the company a joke?’
Philip grinned, then stopped. ‘You’re serious,’ he realised.
It was a struggle to contain his impatience in the face of the Englishman’s open-mouthed amazement. ‘Why would I not be? It is my understanding that your sister is being groomed to take control one day.’
‘How would you know that? Unless you have been secretly following her progress.’ Philip grinned at his own joke.
‘We have a proactive policy with recruitment. We are always on the lookout for the brightest and the best,’ Emilio explained.
‘You thought of offering Megan a job?’ The possibility appeared to render her brother tongue-tied with amazement.
‘She is exactly the sort of candidate we target.’ Not directly obviously—such preliminary approaches were made through the aegis of an agency.
‘Megan! Our Megan?’
‘She did graduate top of her class.’ Had any of her family actually noticed?
If they had it would be the first time. A quiet member in a family of large and noisy personalities, Megan had perfected the art of fading into the background to such a degree that she seemed startled when someone actually noticed her.
Emilio had felt his anger rise as he recalled how pathetically grateful she’d been when she had been included by her family.
‘Megan always was a bit of a swot,’ Philip recalled with an affectionate grin.
‘The same has been said of me, but I would call it focus. It is a quality I find essential in those working for me.’
‘So you wanted Megan to … Did she refuse you?’
‘I was given to understand through an intermediary that she was not available.’
‘Megan being headhunted—that’s a tough one to get my head around. She’s bright, of course she is … I just never thought …’
‘Well, your father must have if he’s grooming her—’
‘He’s not,’ Philip cut in.
‘How can you be so sure? ‘
‘I know my dad. Oh, he’s probably told her that he will—that would be his style,’ Philip admitted. ‘But let her take over …?’ He shook his head. ‘No way, never in a million years.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, for starters, in case you’ve forgotten, she’s a girl.’
‘I had noticed she is a woman.’
‘Dad can talk the talk when it comes to women in the workplace, but at heart he’s a chauvinist.’
‘You implied that he would not have been unhappy if Janie had shown an interest.’
‘Sure, Janie’s always been his favourite, and she’s—’
Emilio was taken unawares by the level of anger he was forced to suppress as he prompted coldly, ‘You were saying.’
Maybe he hadn’t suppressed it all because Philip looked wary as he responded. ‘Dad took Megan in when her mum died, but at the end of the day she was …’
‘The maid’s daughter.’
‘I don’t think that way,’ Philip protested, flushing. ‘But Dad does. And her mum was the housekeeper before she got herself pregnant.’
Emilio schooled his expression into neutrality. He had no idea why the sordid story made him so furious. It wasn’t as if such things had not occurred in his own family. The only difference being that no member of his family would have ever acknowledged the child of such an unequal union, even if she had been left alone after the death of her mother.
To give Armstrong his due he had recognised his responsibilities even if it had taken twelve years for him to do.
He could only imagine what it had been like for a child brought up in what, according to Philip, had been a pretty tough housing estate in an industrial town to be removed into a totally foreign environment among people she did not know.
People who did not value the gift they had been given.
Megan’s glance moved from his long fingers drumming an impatient tattoo on the steering wheel to his profile. The taut lines of his face suggested Emilio wasn’t very happy, the tension was rolling off him in waves.
‘I hate driving in heavy traffic too. You can’t wonder that road rage happens.’
Her soft contralto voice dragged Emilio free of his dark reflections. He turned his head and felt something squeeze tight in his chest as he read the sympathy in her face and all his submerged protective instincts rose to the surface.
‘I do not feel rage towards the road.’ Just every person who has ever hurt you. ‘But you still carry on working for him?’
The abrupt and seemingly unconnected angry addition made her start slightly and blink in confusion.
‘Dad?’
He nodded abruptly.
‘Why wouldn’t I?’ No longer an impression—the anger he was projecting was very real.
‘So you don’t mind that by your own admission he tries to manipulate you.’
‘Manipulate is a strong word,’ she retorted with manufactured optimism in face of his bewildering level of disapproval.
Not strong enough in Emilio’s view for a father who had no interest in his daughter’s potential being fulfilled, just her usefulness to him. Did she realise that he had no intention of ever letting go of the golden carrot he dangled?
‘If he will not sack you, why worry?’ More to the point, why carry on working for the guy?
‘There are worse things than being sacked,’ she retorted.
‘Such as?’ he asked, reminding himself that what went on between Armstrong and his daughter was none of his business.
‘What is this—twenty questions?’ she asked crankily. ‘If you must know he’ll make an example of me.’ She could hear him now: Just because you’re my daughter, Megan. ‘Something suitably humiliating, a public dressing-down, a demotion, at least on paper.’
Her job description and salary might change, but Megan, who knew despite her father’s complaints that she was good at what she did, doubted her workload would alter.
‘But as I’m going to be a good girl and refuse your very tempting offer of breakfast,’ she said, masking the disturbing truth with sarcasm, ‘it’s
