Page 4 of Teasing Her Grumpy Boss

There was a long silence is he read it through. His face gave nothing away but she knew he was less than impressed. Well, who wouldn’t be? Even she could admit it wasn’t great reading.

Finally he spoke. ‘Well, we have one thing in common.’

‘What’s that?’

‘You’re not big on commitment either.’

She blinked.

He looked back at the paper, obviously biting back a smile. He’d shocked her. And he knew it. And he thought it was funny. She gritted her teeth to hold back her sarcastic response. She needed this opportunity and she wasn’t going to lose it by mouthing off at him. She inhaled deeply before inquiring in a voice that screamed frigid politeness. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘You’ve not held a job longer than three months.’

‘I’ve been at university until the end of last year. Student jobs, summer jobs. They never last long.’

‘And this year?’

‘I’ve been traveling about.’

‘Why did you leave your last job?’

Why did she leave any of them? That boredom. That restlessness, that niggling feeling that she wasn’t quite right for it. She tried, genuinely tried and was your average, dependable worker—with a short expiry date.

‘You phone any of my old employers and ask for a reference. I’ve never taken a sick day. I’m happy to work double shifts. I guarantee they will all say nothing but good.’

‘You’ve a strong sense of your own worth then.

Well, there was the biggest bluff in history.

She was good, but not great. More mediocre than marvelous. Should never really shone, but she’d never really tried to. What was the point? She’d been pigeonholed years before this someone who wasn’t even going to excel. The only prize she’d ever deserved was for biggest idiot. A blip in her personal history that had given rise to feelings of humiliation, inadequacy and fear—feelings that haunted her still, that colored each world that she tried to build for herself. Which was why she kept starting over. Ultimately she feared to try her best because she suspected it still wouldn’t be good enough.

She leaned forward, abandoning dignity and inspiration for dollars. ‘Look, I can do this. I’ve been waiting in bars and restaurants for years. I know the suppliers. I know what works and what doesn’t. Give me the job and I promise you won’t regret it.’

She glanced at the clock. It wasn’t far off five. She hoped like crazy the receptionist wouldn’t walk back in. Hoped her luck would hold to grant her this one chance. ‘I know the drill from the cleaning to stock management to handling stroppy customers. Been there, done that. And I can deal with staff.’ She looked at him firmly. ‘Bar staff work hard. I know exactly how hard and I know how to give them the respect and motivation they need to keep working that way.’

She didn’t know if her argument was working, but she did know he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. She’d seen him glance over her a couple of times but for the most part his gaze held hers. She found it incredibly difficult not to be distracted by his intensity. And by the color of his eyes. She debated with that they were truly pure gold or brown with gold flecks. Either way they were unusual. And mesmerising. She blinked. Not going to go there. Not going to be distracted.

‘If you want someone to run your club, then you want me.’

TWO

You always pre-plan your activities

Daniel Graydon sat backand let the words hang on the air.You want me. Awful to admit it but he kind of did. Which was surprising because it only took a second to know she wasn’t his type, sitting there humming, smiling to herself, she was on another planet from his. He took a few more seconds to look her over and reinforce the impression.

She looked like an untamed gypsy and he was more your refined-preppy-girl kind of guy. She had the kind of tan that signalled lengthy hours on the beach. The low neckline of her singlet top revealed not even the hint of a bikini mark—an all-over-body tan? He banished the immediate mental picture only to focus on her long legs-wrapped in worn denim. Sizable patches on the thigh and knee showed where only a few threads remained before they’d finally fray into holes. He’d love to know if the skin under them would be as golden and soft-looking as that on her arms, her neck… God, he needed to get a grip.

He forced his attention to her feet.

Cowboy boots looked back at him. Brown, pointy-toed, wedge-heeled with patterns worked on the leather. He felt the reluctant smile tug at his mouth. He wondered if there were spurs to match, or if she had a whip—other than her tongue, which he was quite sure was capable of giving a good lashing. Her CV had ‘wanderer’ all over it—your typical instant-gratification girl. She’d stick around while the sun shone but any hint of a cloud and she’d be off. A shining example of one of those ‘what’s in it for me, me, me?’ women. Daniel was all too familiar with the sort—they upped and left uncaring of whatever disaster they had left behind. No sense of loyalty, responsibility, reliability. Which was precisely why he upped and left them before they had a chance to. Ordinarily, he’d have enjoyed saying no to her. But in this instance he didn’t require endurance, he required immediate and short-term. Her self-confessed flightiness shouldn’t be a problem.

He looked back to her face. She was staring at him. He could feel her willing him to take her on. But it wasn’t the bold challenge that got him. It was the glimpse of someone desperate for the chance, concealed under the confidence. As a lawyer, he’d seen that look many times before. The hidden desire—wanting someone to listen and take a risk. Even though they knew there was really no chance and they were just waiting for the refusal. It was the look that had him taking on clients when his caseload was already too full to handle. Pro bono at that. The kind of cases that had the senior partners frowning at him.

She was talking again. ‘You’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain. It’s nearly five now—if you want someone to start tonight I’m your only bet. I can do this. Let me prove it to you.’

He glanced at his watch. She was right; it was nearly five. No time to hit another agency. Certainly not if they were all as inept as the receptionist in this one was. So what choice did he have? He had to have someone in there tidying up the mess tonight.

Her green eyes burned into him. He saw the passion there, with defiance and determination. The words were out before he realized he’d even thought them. ‘I’ll give you three weeks. We go to the club now.’

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