At The Boss's Command: Taking on the Boss / The Millionaire Boss's Mistress / Accepting the Boss's Proposal

Tahlia shook herself. ‘Right.’ Of course the thought hadn’t crossed her mind; it probably hadn’t even crossed Case Darrington’s.

‘You know you shouldn’t let anything distract you from what really matters.’

‘Yes, Mum. I know.’

‘You know the risks involved in relationships, how messy they can be…’ Her mother sighed heavily. ‘You know how important it is to get your life right first.’

‘Yes, Mum. I’m getting that promotion first, Mum.’

‘That’s a good girl. I’m so happy that you’re learning from my mistakes and you don’t have to go through what I—’

Tahlia cringed. ‘Yes. I’m so lucky to have you.’ There were some lessons she could do without, even if it meant settling for someone safe rather than someone who was trouble. ‘And don’t worry, I will get that promotion.’

‘Of course you will.’

She shifted in her seat. Some time, after she figured out where Darrington came from and what he was up to. ‘Look, I have to go. My dinner’s getting cold and I have a ton of work in front of me.’

‘That’s the girl,’ her mother gushed. ‘You make it so they can’t do anything but give you the promotion. You just have to do more. Bye now.’

Tahlia rang off, a cold ache in her chest. She had thought she’d done everything, but obviously it wasn’t enough. Yet.

One thing was for sure; Raquel couldn’t help but notice soon that Darrington wasn’t getting the job done—he was spending far too much energy on the staff and neglecting the rest of his work.

All she needed to do was wait…

She gave her neat apartment a slow assessment. She had only one bedroom to minimise rental costs and maximise her saving capability, a small kitchen to make her own food rather than rely on take-aways, a large fridge full of water, fruit and vegetables and frozen meals for one.

It was all about moderation. Why hadn’t her father seen it? Moderation and control was the key to life. If he’d mastered it he wouldn’t have needed to have lied to her mother about the poor state of business, their financial difficulty and his state of mind.

He wouldn’t have needed time to himself so much, wouldn’t have drunk so much and wouldn’t have been on the balcony that night… wouldn’t have leant so heavily on that loose rail.

Sirens still made her body chill and every part of her freeze and listen, for the sound of her mother talking with her father at the table as though he was there, safe, as though they were there, together, as though life was all okay again and her father hadn’t fallen to his death leaving all those problems they said he couldn’t face for her mother.

The doorbell rang.

She put down her bowl and strode to the door. At last. Her friends. She couldn’t have done with her own company a moment longer, especially when her mind was filled with images of Case and his wide shoulders, slim hips, cute tight butt and those incredible sapphire-blue eyes.

She swung the door wide.

Roses. Plump crimson blooms filled the doorway, with soft sprays of baby’s breath at the edges and deep green leaves intermingled amongst the rich vivid flowers in front of her.

She froze, her breath stuck in her throat. Was Case on the other side of the veritable garden? Were his eyes going to be sparkling with promises his lips couldn’t wait to fulfil, his blood rushing as fiery hot as the colour of the roses, just waiting to sweep her to him…?

The flowers moved aside. ‘For Miss Moran,’ said the delivery man, thrusting a clipboard under her nose for her to sign, his face beaming as though he was giving them to her himself.

The chill of reality cooled her body.

Idiot. As if he’d come over. Sure, the guy looked at her and was nice but it didn’t mean anything except that it had been far too long since she’d been on a date.

He was her boss! As if the guy was going to send her flowers—but if not him, then who?

She signed and gave the man his pen and board back. Why had she neglected her personal life so badly? If she hadn’t she wouldn’t be so at a loss every time she was in the vicinity of Case.

If she was a dating veteran she probably wouldn’t even register Case and his attributes, she’d be used to men and attention and wouldn’t be tortured thinking about a man so obviously unsuitable for her.

Tahlia took the roses and held them close to her chest, breathing in their sweet scent. Nice. She hadn’t had roses since…too long.

It was a lovely thought. Her mother? No way. Emma and Keely, maybe…

She closed the front door, flipping open the card tucked amongst the stems. ‘Thinking of you.’

Case, or a secret admirer? ‘Yeah, right.’ It had to be him. Logic suggested there were no other viable options for the sender. He liked her.

She closed her eyes and let the realisation wash over her. Did he want to get to know her better?

The thought wasn’t entirely unattractive, especially the part where she and Case would be in each other’s arms, tasting each other’s lips, their bodies pressed together, exploring the amazing chemistry that was making her act insane.

Was life about compromise?

She glanced at Bert and Ernie. She could put a glass lid on top of their fish bowl and get that pussycat that her mother had never let her have.

No.

She held the bunch of flowers away from her, shaking her head. She was not going to waste valuable time with stupid fantasies about the boss.

She was not going to entertain thoughts like that about the man who stole her job, flowers or not.

She was not giving up. She was a professional and that was her promotion, no matter what he made her feel.

The doorbell rang again.

She flung open the door, steeling herself. If Case Darrington thought that a bunch of flowers was going to romance her into his way of thinking…

Emma and Keely filled the doorway. ‘We’re here.’

They bustled in, arms full of bags, the pizza wafting cheesy garlic aromas around the room.

‘Who’s your admirer?’ Keely asked.

Tahlia tossed the flowers on to the hallstand. ‘Work…from work. Condolences on my promotionless week.’

Emma picked up the flowers, cradling them in her arms. ‘We should have thought of that. Who did?’ She plucked the card. ‘Who’s thinking of you?’

‘Raquel,’ Tahlia blurted.

‘Yeah, that you’re not breathing down her neck. Two-faced Rottie that she is.’ Keely drew her into a hug, juggling pizza and packages. ‘She should have given you the job, not that jerk.’

Emma waved the card. ‘Hang on. How dumb do you think we are? Raquel wouldn’t spend a dime on sending you anything, let alone flowers.’ Emma took the flowers into the kitchen. ‘Fess up.’

‘Fine.’ Tahlia slipped the pizza from Keely’s hands, strode into the lounge, dropped into her favourite deep-cushioned chair and opened the box. ‘I’m pretty sure they’re from Case Darrington.’

Emma whistled, pulling a vase out of the cupboard below the sink and filling it with water. ‘He is rather cute and if I didn’t have my wonderful Harry I would consider pushing him into a cupboard and ripping his clothes off.’

Tahlia stared at her friend, trying not to let the image infect her, her stomach holding on to the thought and pushing it low.

‘And?’ Emma unwrapped the bunch and slid the stalks into the vase. ‘He glanced across the crowded office,’ she said dreamily. ‘Saw you standing there with your freshly pressed jacket, white shirt that struggled to contain your throbbing heart and a short skirt showing off long, long freshly waxed legs that he couldn’t wait to have wrapped around him—’

‘No,’ Tahlia snapped, pushing down the heat in her veins. That girl had been watching too many romances.

She looked away. She couldn’t tell them everything now and confess what she was feeling. It was just too embarrassing. ‘Not exactly. I think he’s an ass. A jerk. An office playboy just toying with me.’ She shook her head with vigour. ‘I don’t want to talk about him.’

‘Okay,’ Emma said, stifling a smile, whipping her fingers across her lips. ‘No more talk about the playboy.’

‘All right.’ Keely nestled herself on the sofa. ‘But then what was the SOS for?’

‘I need help… with my list for my perfect man,’ she rushed on. As if that would ever happen. ‘Like you had, Keely. I figure if I had a checklist I think I may be better equipped to find someone to settle down with.’ Somewhere in the distant future.

Emma placed the vase of roses on the hallstand. ‘Really. Truly? You’re finally going to do it? Even without the promotion?’

Tahlia cringed. There was no way, but she had to get them off the promotion and Case subject. ‘I know I’ve used that job as an excuse not to get into dating and maybe I used it a bit much. You know, all those eggs in one basket thing. I think I need to work on another basket while I mop up the broken eggs in my other one.’

‘Sure. I get it.’ Keely nodded slowly. ‘You need time to grieve…and all. What have you got so far?’

Tahlia pulled out the scrap of paper she’d been doodling on this week, paused and folded it, tucking it tight under her thigh. It was already all wrong.

She ripped open a pack of M&Ms Keely had unpacked on to the table and tipped them into a bowl, snagging a couple of strays and popping them into her mouth. ‘I haven’t got much so far. Short, blond and…’ Not handsome. She’d had enough of handsome. ‘I don’t mind if he’s had a close encounter with a brick wall.’

Tahlia scooped a large handful of M&Ms into her lap and leant back, tucking her legs up on to the seat. ‘I think that sort of broken nose, scarred face, thinning hair sort of look is one that screams character,’ she blurted, shoving half of the load into her mouth.

Emma flopped on to the sofa, ripping open a bag of sweets, shooting Keely a look. ‘And his job?’

Tahlia chewed hard and swallowed. ‘His job—something where he gets down and dirty.’ She rushed on, trying to rid pastel shirts and silk ties from haunting her mind. ‘None of this intellectual shirty-suited sort of person. I want someone rugged, calloused and… rugged.’

Tahlia took a breath and shoved the rest of the M&Ms in her mouth, glancing to the bottle on the table, crunching them up. She needed something stronger than sweets…

Emma popped the cork on the wine, grabbing a slice of the cheesy pizza. ‘And this man’s hobbies would be—?’

‘Collecting bottle tops maybe, tattoos or beer bottles or sandals lost on the beach,’ Tahlia said in a rush. There. As totally opposite to that man as she could possibly get. ‘Well? What do you think?’

‘I think you’ll find him at the local pub, swilling down beer and chewing glass.’ Keely laughed. ‘Are you setting yourself up for disappointment or just afraid of dating?’

Tahlia jerked to her feet. She didn’t like where this was going. She wasn’t afraid of dating or men, not in general anyway. ‘No. I’m being practical.’

Emma poured a glass and slid it in front of Tahlia and picked up a pen. ‘Right. I think you ought to start fresh. What have you got—?’ She lurched forward and snatched the piece of paper from her chair. ‘This is more like it. What’s wrong with this tall, dark and handsome white-collar intellectual—? Oh.’

‘What oh?’ Keely leaned forward, holding her stomach. ‘What have I missed?’

Finishing off her slice of pizza, Emma opened a bag of popcorn, balancing it on her lap and waved the paper at her. ‘I think our Tahlia has already fallen for someone but is in denial.’

Tahlia slumped back into her seat and crossed her arms. ‘I’m denying nothing.’ And she wasn’t admitting anything either. ‘I have not fallen for anyone. I do not fall. I make lists and plans and stay aware of all contingencies at all times.’

Emma tossed a piece of popcorn at her. ‘Right. Sure. Liar.’

‘I’m not lying. There is no way I’m interested in Case Darrington as anything other than my arch nemesis that I need to crush like a bug.’

‘That doesn’t sound healthy.’ Keely poured cola into her glass.

‘You should have heard him. He expected me to be his assistant until he hired someone. Me!’ She touched her chest, feeling the rage anew. It felt far safer than those other feelings she didn’t want to have. ‘After he had the nerve to steal my promotion, he wants to make me his assistant.’

Emma tipped the popcorn into a bowl and pulled out some more packages. ‘Sweetie, take the job, play the secretary-cum-assistant role—it would be great for you to get to know him, wouldn’t it?’

‘You guys are crazy.’

‘Go on, email him now and tell him you’ll help him out with the job. It doesn’t have to be for long.’ Emma took another slice of pizza. ‘It will resolve, once and for all, whether it’s displaced animosity that you feel for your new boss, lust or something else entirely…’

Keely waved a chocolate-covered jam doughnut. ‘And thank him for the flowers.’

‘And you could tell him you’re thinking of him too,’ Emma lilted, casting her gaze to the incredible bunch of red roses on the hallstand.

She was, but she wasn’t thinking straight. She was considering her friends’ advice, but sense would suggest it was extremely flawed and terribly biased in favour of her associating with a cute-suit instead of focusing on her career.

Could these strong feelings be caused by her anger? She nodded. Definitely…it made far more sense than considering she’d let anyone touch her heart, let alone someone who’d taken something so precious from her, or someone who could make her feel so vulnerable.

That had to be wrong.

Tahlia took her glass. Maybe she could spend some more time with the boss, get beneath that tailored exterior of his, past the sweet soppy dog-at-home thing and reveal the true jerk underneath.

Tahlia knocked back her wine and settled back into her chair with a slice of pizza in one hand and an iced doughnut in the other. She’d give the matter some serious thought and maybe check out her horoscope in the morning to see if the stars could shed anything on the matter.

She bit into the sweet powdery softness of the doughnut. One thing she did know was that she was not going to rush into anything, least of all him.

Chapter Nine

They say all things good to know are difficult to learn.

Especially when it involves alcohol, romantic movies, too much sugar and way too helpful friends.

TAHLIA strode through the foyer, every step a challenge to the fragile head on her shoulders that still didn’t feel like her own.

They’d drunk far too much on Friday night, or at least she had, but she was sure they’d all be suffering the morning-afters for days.

Keely had polished off every last doughnut, citing the extra mouth she had to feed, and Emma’s chocolate consumption would’ve put a ten-year-old to shame.

Tahlia had spent most of the weekend tucked up in bed with the weekend papers and the Business Review, nursing her hangover, her promotion failure and an addled brain full of Darrington fantasies.

Why had she drunk so much?

She waved to George, tucking the newspaper tighter under her arm. She’d deliberately avoided reading her horoscope this morning because she didn’t want to know, and especially didn’t want to be tempted to check for what Sagittarians were up to today—as if she cared. Did it matter what Case’s was? It did not.

Sure, she’d emailed him under the influence some time in the wee hours of Friday night, taking up the offer to be his assistant, but it didn’t have to be the disaster she’d first thought it was when she’d realised what she’d done.

Sure, she’d let herself get talked into it by Emma and Keely, but after two days analysing the pros and cons she had to say it was the right thing to do.

There were too many question marks around Darrington. It was time to resolve some of them, once and for all, and spending time in close proximity seemed a perfect opportunity to do just that.

He was up to something, she was sure of it.

She was a professional, after all. What could it hurt to take the opportunity to see just what he was up to and harden her heart to feeling anything for the man?

So he had probably sent her the flowers. It didn’t mean anything, except that he was looking for more distractions from doing the job.

Marketing Executives weren’t usually so obsessed with the staff right down to the copy kids temping while in uni, let alone the mail clerks.

She had to find out what Case Darrington was about, then expose his failings to Raquel and get the job that should have been hers in the first place.

Her fantasies would be squashed, thankfully—they were taking too much of her time, torturing her with memories of imagined glances, warm smiles and soft words that couldn’t possibly exist anywhere except in her addled brain. And in unexplainable flower deliveries.

She punched the lift button.

‘Good morning, Tahlia.’ A familiar nasal bark.

Tahlia turned to look Raquel Wilson in the eye. She was the same height as Tahlia but solid, wearing crimson trousers with hot red stilettos and a black cotton top that clung to her like a second skin.

‘I’m sorry you had to find out about the position of Marketing Executive the way you did.’

Sure she was. Tahlia forced herself to keep a straight face, to keep the raging heat churning up inside from bursting from her mouth. The Rottie’s cool regard for Tahlia when she was just another employee had turned to chilling after she’d become Director of Sales.

Raquel waved her Rolex-clad arm, her diamond rings glinting. ‘I know how much you wanted the job.’

‘Yes,’ she said and shrugged. Best to pretend it didn’t matter than admit weakness in the face of power personified. Raquel could rip her throat out professionally, if given half a chance and even less of an excuse.

Raquel forced a laugh as fake as her nose. ‘Just wanted to clear the air between us so there’s no hard feelings.’

Tahlia nodded. ‘Right. Sure.’ As if. The woman was paranoid about Tahlia’s slow and steady climb up the corporate ladder.

‘I’d hate for you to take being overlooked for the promotion personally.’ Raquel tossed her jet-black dyed hair back from her shoulder. ‘And I really don’t have much time spare to write you out a reference, but if you insist…’

‘No. I’m not taking it personally at all.’ She forced a smile. If only Raquel knew just how personal the whole thing was getting, the scent of the roses coming back to her, with a pair of sapphire-blue eyes that turned her world upside down.

She took a slow breath. ‘I’m sure your decision was taken with the utmost care and Mr Darrington is far more qualified for the position than me.’ At least as far as Raquel had been concerned at the time, but showing her how wrong she was would be incredibly satisfying. ‘Where on earth did you find him?’

Raquel’s grin faded. ‘Oh, around.’

Tahlia raised her eyebrows—the Rottie had to guess she’d put the wrong person in the job. ‘And around would be?’

Raquel’s eyes narrowed. ‘Well…look, sometimes the best people come through unexpected channels.’ She stepped towards the doors. ‘You understand?’

‘I think I do,’ Tahlia said slowly, her mind churning.

The doors opened and Raquel alighted. ‘You will be nice to the man, won’t you?’ she tossed back at her. ‘He is new and isn’t familiar with the job and its requirements and will need all the guidance and assistance that you can offer him.’

Tahlia gave a light shrug. ‘Of course,’ she said strongly, gritting her teeth. She couldn’t wait to help him do the job he had been hired for.

The doors started to close.

‘I’d expect nothing less from you,’ the Rottie shot back.

Tahlia stared after the big boss, every part of her wanting to scream, yell and cry at the injustice. She took a deep breath, willing her blood to cool.

She was in control. So the man had got her promotion on the sly. She’d damned well be his assistant and give him the helping hand he needed, right out the door.

Chapter Ten

Keep your friends close and your enemy— Case Taker Darrington closer still—as close as I can handle… and more. I’m going to know more about his skeletons than my own and then I’m going to bury him.

TAHLIA dropped into the desk outside Case’s office. Getting romanced out of a job sucked, Case expecting her to be romanced into being his secretary was a joke, and she was all for making hers the last laugh.

She was so going to prove her point, no matter what small furry animals the guy had at home.

Tahlia stabbed the keyboard.

TO: [e-mail]

CC: [e-mail]

FROM: [e-mail]

RE: Men

You two were wrong. Looks like Case Treacherous Darrington is a jerk. Just spoke to Raquel, who expects me to babysit the guy into being a competent Exec in lieu of me. Sounds like no experience and potential leech. Crap.

Life sucks.

Keely, sure, Liam is cute and shy and looks at Chrystal a lot but could it be possible that she could be interested in a real relationship?

No, Case is not married. No girlfriend, but I’d say he’s had quite a few. Not that I care.

And no, don’t you two start on this stupid attraction thing again—it absolutely does not exist.

Have to go through being his PA thanks to two particular sugar-inebriated friends and emailing under the influence.

I tell you this interaction with this sub-human job-stealer is for the good of the company and all aspiring employees everywhere, nothing personal.

T

Tahlia stared at his office door. She’d yet to knock and tell the guy just how personal this wasn’t.

She stood up slowly. He was trouble to her and the company and it was her duty to sort him out before he caused any damage to the already-hampered WWW.

She needed to find out more about him, and straight from the source. She had to get the guy to lighten up, to open up, to reveal his secrets.

Tahlia had got some advice, in a roundabout way so as not to highlight her goal. Keely had suggested beer to get a guy to open up. Em, being Em, had suggested seduction.

Against her better judgement but for the good of the company, she’d decided to act nice and flirt the guy into dropping his guard.

If he could use his connections to procure her promotion, she could use her God-given wiles to get what she needed.

Her blood fired at the thought of playing with the fire in Case’s eyes.

She smoothed down her jacket. For the future of WWW Designs, home to her friends and many a talented person who deserved a far better boss, she’d make the sacrifice.

She owed it that.

TO: [e-mail]

CC: [e-mail]

FROM: [e-mail]

RE: Men

I think you protest too much, honey.

And Chrystal wanting a relationship? Why not?

She’s human, isn’t she? I think eventually we all need something more in our lives. And I’m so glad I’ve found it.

K

Well, bully for her.

Tahlia pushed away from the desk and rapped on Case Test-time Darrington’s door and swung it wide. ‘Good morning, Mr Darrington.’

‘Tahlia,’ he offered, smoothly rising. ‘I got your message. I…I was surprised, to say the least…’

Case wasn’t wearing his suit jacket, just a baby-blue shirt sitting as enticingly around those wide shoulders as his tailored jacket had been. His trousers were dark and his deep aqua silk tie brought out flecks of dazzling light in his eyes.

Gawd, he looked good. Too good. She shifted on her black heels. ‘Me, too. Surprised, that is.’ At the roses, at herself, at her email accepting this assistant job and at her tenacity.