Page 22 of About Last Night
His gaze dropped from her face to her feet and he tipped an eyebrow. ‘You’re not wearing your heels.’
She screwed up her face in confusion at the conversational curve ball. ‘Of course not – I was relaxing on the sofa.’ If you could call being curled up in a foetal position clutching a soggy tissue ‘relaxed’, that was.
She instinctively lifted up onto her toes to try and give the impression of more height and power than she suspected she was projecting right at that moment.
The twitch of a grin at the corner of Tristan’s mouth was the straw that broke her temper.
‘What the hell areyoudoing here? Not come to accuse me of more dastardly deeds, have you? Because if you have you can bugger off and go stick your head right up?—’
He cut off her ranting by holding up a placating palm.
‘No. It seems I was a little too quick to judge the situation at Flash. Like you, I was a bit… er… tired this morning and it may have had a detrimental effect on my decision-making.’
Lula stared at him agog. ‘I’m sorry – did I hear you right?’ She shook her head and blinked hard, feigning the impression she must have misheard him. ‘It sounded suspiciously like you were admitting you were wrong to fire me.’
‘I think I may have made a mistake, yes, and I regret it.’
It looked as though it was causing him actual physical pain to admit he was in the wrong. Well, good.
She should drag this out, as revenge for his harsh treatment of her that morning.
‘That constitutes an apology in Tristan World, does it?’ she said coolly.
He frowned. ‘Look, can I come in so we can discuss this?’ he said, bracing one arm against the door jamb and dipping his head in a conciliatory manner.
Her body went up in flames as his wonderful scent hit her nostrils, bringing back memories of the enthralling feeling of his hard body beneath her only the night before.
Damn him for being such a low-down, dirty sex god.
She gave him a scrutinising look, playing for time while she attempted to get her head together. The thought of letting him into her sanctuary made her nervous. She was acutely aware of how bedraggled she looked – not to mention diminutive without her heels on – and she didn’t want to give him the upper hand by feeling self-conscious about her appearance as well as the questionable state of her living room. There were sodden tissues and chocolate wrappers littering the coffee table and a line of underwear drying on the radiator behind the sofa. It didn’t exactly shout,You have no power over me. I’m moving onwards and upwards.
‘I’d rather do it here, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to be accused of luring you in here to take advantage of you again.’
He let out a snort, but quickly reined in his mirth.
‘Okay, Tallulah, fair enough.’
‘So, what prompted thisrevelation?’ she asked, folding her arms in front of her ancient, faded T-shirt, hoping he hadn’t noticed the adolescent boy band motif on the front.
Tristan frowned and rubbed a hand over his jaw, his fingers making a faint rasping sound against the beginnings of his stubble. He suddenly looked very tired and for a second she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
He huffed out a breath. ‘It seems Jez has been misappropriating money from the station and, after talking with some of the other staff, it appears you were right about him taking certain other liberties with his position as well.’
Lula stared at him, dumbfounded. ‘Really? God. So, you fired him?’ she asked hopefully. It would serve the idiot right if he’d been booted too.
‘Yes. He’s gone and I’m stepping in to manage the station until I can find a suitable replacement.’ He bit down on his lip as if he was keying himself up to add something else.
Lula’s gaze was drawn to his mouth as he uttered the next words.
‘We need you back at Flash. Now Jez has gone I can offer you the Breakfast Show slot. Apparently, you’re the best and most experienced presenter at the station and the general consensus is that it should go to you.’
Her mouth tingled, like sherbet fizzing on her tongue, as she thought about kissing that full mouth of his with joy at the news. Now the ball was in her court she could probably do whatever she wanted and he’d have to put up with it if he wanted her back. And he evidently did, considering he’d come all the way over here after hours with his tail between his legs to talk to her.
Of course he needed someone with her experience to take over the Breakfast Show. It would be virtually impossible to find someone else with the skills needed to step in at such short notice and do a good job.
He neededher.
She had a flash of memory about how empowering it had felt to call the shots with him last night and wondered whether she could bring herself to do it again. To get her own back on him for his unfair treatment of her today.
