Page 9 of Savage Bosses

He swipes on my tablet, going over the few designs I put together. He hands the tablet to the woman beside him, and she swipes as well.

“I thought why not pay tribute to that period. My design is based off art deco with some neo classical elements. Geometric lines, rich and bold colors with gold accents. When someone walks into Basille Hotels and Resort North River, they should be transformed back to the bustling 1920’s.”

I finish my design pitch and take a deep breath. Glancing over to Mira she has a proud smile on her face. Just three chairs down, Tess is fuming at me. The woman beside Mr. Basille leans over and whispers something to him. Neither of them has said anything or even smiled. My heart is racing in my chest. For some reason, I really care if he likes my design. I mean, it’s a big opportunity either way, but his approval would be a big deal.

Mr. Basille leans back in his seat and steeples his fingers in front of him.

“I’ve made my decision.” He looks up at me and smiles. “We will go with your design.”

The entire room of designers’ gasp. My mouth falls open, but no words come out. His gorgeous brown eyes lighten as they stare back at me.

“So glad we could be of service to you, Mr. Basille,” Mr. Johnson says. He looks up at me and winks.

This is the first time since I’ve been hired that he has acknowledged me.

“This is great,” Tess starts, her tone not matching her words. “I’m glad you made your decision, Mr. Basille. I’ll make sure to take on this project myself to assure that it is done correctly.”

“No, you won’t,” he says glancing at Tess before looking at Mr. Johnson. “Ms. Best will be the senior designer on this project or I’ll go somewhere else.”

“That won’t be a problem, Mr. Basille.” Mr. Johnson holds up his hands. “Ms. Best is highly qualified to take on the role.”

The man knows nothing about me, but I’m glad he’s publicly supporting me.

“What?” Tess says in disbelief.

Mr. Basille grins and my goodness this man has a gorgeous smile. “Yes, I like to work closely with my designers on my projects. Ms. Best, I shall see you at my office tomorrow at 8 am sharp to go over this project further and my expectations for it.”

He stands to his feet, and the woman with him does as well. The entire conference room starts to clear out. Mr. Basille stops in front of me, and I lift my head to look in his eyes.

“Beauty and talent. I’m going to enjoy working with you, Tiffany.” He walks away following Mr. Johnson out, leaving his incredible scent lingering behind him. I follow him with my eyes until he is no longer in my sight. Mira comes up and wraps her arms around me.

“That’s my girl,” she shouts, pulling back from her hug. “Congratulations, Tiff you earned this.”

“Don’t get too happy,” Tess says, swinging her hair over her shoulders. “When I finish talking to Mr. Johnson, there is no way he’s going to let you take the lead on one of the company’s biggest clients. I’ll have that job.”

“Maybe I should talk to Mr. Johnson. Tell him how the budget for that hospital job is going,” Mira says stepping in front of me.

Tess glares at Mira for a moment challenging her with her eyes. When Mira doesn’t back down, Tess turns and storms off.

“She’s going to be a problem,” I say as I watch Tess walk off leaving only Mira and I in the room.

Mira turns to face me. “If she knew all the shit I had on her, she’d keep her mouth shut. But, we’re not worried about her. You just got your first project. We should celebrate.”

She’s right. I’d just gotten my first big break at this job. Even if Tess convinces Mr. Johnson to change his mind, it’s my design that was picked. I should celebrate, but there is only one person I want to celebrate with. Hopefully, he isn’t still angry with me.

CHAPTER 4

Changes

Tiffany

O

nce again, I look at my phone on the table. The time reads half past midnight. The candles I lit have all burned down to nubs. The food is long past cold, the wine is nearly gone, and my patience is shot to hell.

I’ve left multiple voicemails and text messages on Marcus’ phone, yet I haven’t heard a word from him. I’ve even called his so-called friends and they haven’t seen him either. After calling the hospital and the police station, to make sure he isn’t in either of those places, I’m fuming.

I pick up my phone to check the time again, but quickly put it down. Standing from the table, I start to blow out the candles. Once I’m done, I grab the plates and scrape the food into the garbage disposal.

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