‘And I’d say you’re right.’

‘My first impression wasn’t accurate at all,’ she admitted. ‘You were very different –’ She paused and took a deep breath. Perhaps she shouldn’t mention how he’d looked during that memorable moment just before he’d fallen in the pond. Or this morning when he’d been talking about music. Instead, she said, ‘I think you have a softer side that you try to hide.’

Predictably, Logan frowned again.

‘But that’s okay.’ Sally knew she was skating on very thin ice, but the workshop was nearly over and she was feeling rather reckless. ‘I guess a boss has to pretend to be tough.’

‘It’s not a matter of pretence. A bosshasto be tough. It goes with the territory.’ Logan glanced again at his watch and stood quickly. His eyes took on a kind of hooded hardness. ‘Now, if you’ll kindly excuse me. I really must go to this meeting.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

IT HAD BEEN the weirdest day.

Logan drove rather recklessly to his meeting, jumping lanes and taking corners too fast as his head reeled from the conversation he’d just had with his newest employee. Teambuilding was all very well – he had to admit he’d gained a new respect for many employees today – but he couldn’t believe he’d revealed so much of his inner self to Sally Finch.

Allowing a glimpse beneath his careful façade was completely out of character. And to the front desk girl of all people!

And then, what cheek on Sally’s part, to suggest he was not as tough as he made out. It was utter rubbish!

At the age of fifteen, when his father had gone bankrupt, he’d developed a super-tough outer shell. Since then, he’d hardened even more, had done everything in his power to make sure he never repeated his father’s mistakes.

The traffic lights changed to red just in front of Logan, forcing him to brake sharply. Fingers tapping impatiently on the steering wheel, he watched pedestrians swarm across the crossing – men in business suits, schoolgirls in straw hats and navy blue uniforms, and a family of tourists in blue jeans and T shirts.

Through narrowed eyes, Logan watched the tourists – parents with two kids, a boy and a girl. The father’s arm wasdraped loosely around his son’s shoulders and as they reached the safety of the opposite footpath, they seemed to share a joke.

Logan and his dad had been close like that.

The traffic lights changed again and Logan accelerated. He drove to the meeting on auto pilot, his mind lodged in the past, on the lessons he’d learned from his father.

Dan Black had been loved by everyone for his hail-well-met bonhomie and it went without saying that Logan had also adored him and looked up to him as his hero.

During the football season, they’d gone to every home game, the two of them dressed in the red and green colours of their adored team, the South Sydney Rabbitohs.

Back then, Logan had been blissfully unaware of the dangers of his father’s impulsive, happy-go-lucky nature. It was only later that he understood the perils that came when a man’s heart ruled his head.

Dan Black used to joke that he was the most successful businessman he knew who didn’t work to a business plan.

Who needs strategies, son?Follow your heart and you’ll always be right.

Sure, Dad.

For a while Dan Black had done well in real estate. Until there was a downturn. He’d come up with a grand scheme for aquaculture and set up a fish farm on the north coast. Six months later it had been wiped out by disease. Another dream, growing hydrangeas for the cut flower market, had been shattered by a hail storm. Dan hadn’t been insured.

The problem was clear to Logan now. His father had never focused on the main game. He’d never been prepared for potential problems, hadn’t researched projects carefully, and his cash reserves had always been too low, so he couldn’t afford insurance, or to hedge against downturns.

After the final disaster, when Dan had been declared bankrupt, he’d collapsed in a complete nervous breakdown. He’d let his family and his investors down. Friendships had collapsed because Dan had eloquently persuaded pals to invest. Some had actually borrowed money to help him with his disastrous projects.

Logan and his sister had been forced to leave their private schools in the middle of term. Their teachers had been terribly upset, which only added to their mortification.

Only their mother had adapted quickly to the changes the family faced. Happily giving up her social life of tennis and bridge parties, she had taken lowly office jobs, intensifying Dan’s humiliation by working for their friends.

The lesson for Logan had been crystal clear and painfully personal. Men who led with their hearts rather than their heads brought humiliation and hardship on the people they loved. It was absolutely vital to be disciplined, to put one hundred and ten percent into studies and planning and business.

To make this happen, Logan had devised his five year plan. Only when his finances were secure and he’d reached the very top of his game, would he relax and allow himself to think about starting a family of his own.

He wondered now, as he drove into an underground car park, if he should have told Sally Finch about his plan. She’d given him the perfect opening when she suggested he was goal oriented. Perhaps he should have told her then exactly what his goals were and what he was prepared to give up while achieving them.

That would have stilled her tongue. He doubted she would have continued then on about his hidden softness.