Mixing Business...With Baby. Diana WhitneyЧитать онлайн книгу.
witnessed her embarrassing ineptitude with the office machine accepted the proffered documents, flipping through them with practiced skill. “Has the legal department reviewed these?”
The finance director nodded. “Yes, all we need is your approval, and the deal is done.”
“Let me give them a quick read first. I’ll have Marge hand-carry them to your office when I’m through.”
Catrina steadied herself on a metal file cabinet. During the past week of her employment, she’d met dozens of company employees, including most department directors and top managers. She’d met only one person named Marge. She was the personal assistant to the head honcho, one of the few people to whom she had yet to be introduced…the elusive Rick Blaine.
Rick glanced up from the contract long enough to see the color drain from the young woman’s face. He’d realized moments earlier that she hadn’t known who he was. That hadn’t bothered him, actually.
Having just returned from a boring round of golf with the dull-as-dirt CEO of a national conglomerate in need of a new headquarters complex, Rick realized he looked more like a mail-room employee than the founder of a multimillion dollar architectural firm. He’d always made a point of personally knowing each and every employee of his company. He wondered how this breathtaking young woman had escaped his notice.
The embarrassment in her eyes was quickly replaced by a snap of anger, barely visible before she spun on her heel and marched toward the conference room. A thick gather of toffee-colored hair spilled to her shoulders, bouncing with each hurried step, and the torn hem of her skirt dangled as a reminder of the earlier accident. For some odd reason, the minor disarray of her clothing made him feel strangely protective.
Beside him, the finance manager continued to drone on about the particulars of a contract he’d be reading himself in a few minutes. He interrupted with no particular grace. “Who is that woman?”
“Which woman?” Frank Glasgow blinked, followed his gaze. “Oh, that’s our new accounting clerk. Jordan, I believe…Catherine, Caitlin…something like that.”
“Find out.”
“Find what out?”
Even after the clearly aggravated Ms. Jordan had disappeared into the conference room with her hard-earned stack of budget reports, Rick kept his gaze glued on the vacant doorway, awaiting her return. “Her name. I want to know her name.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s rude to refer to one’s employees as ‘hey, you.”’
“Oh.” Frank shot a quizzical look, cleared his throat. “Now about the completion clause and non-compliance penalties, I think we should attempt to negotiate a more favorable—”
“Yes, yes, you’re quite right,” Rick mumbled as the gorgeous Ms. Jordan reappeared in the doorway.
She hesitated, noting his presence with an annoyed sideways glance before hurrying across the spacious open area to a neat desk in front of the management cubicles. She seated herself stiffly, deliberately turned her back on him, a subtle signal that she’d noted his visual interest and rejected it.
“Rick, have you got a moment?”
A vaguely familiar feminine voice caught his attention. He glanced around as a portly, middle-aged woman rushed toward him. “Good afternoon, Sandra. I hear your son’s football team won the league championships. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. He’s up for a sports scholarship at U.C.L.A.”
“Really? That’s quite a coup. You must be very proud.”
“Oh, I am.”
“You’ve done something different with your hair.”
“Why, yes.” She patted her chic, scissored coiffeur, gave him a grateful smile. “Even my husband didn’t notice. Do you like it?”
He flashed her a smile that usually made women flush and giggle. “Extremely attractive. Brings out the resonance of your eyes and draws attention to your lovely smile.”
“Flatterer.”
“If the truth is flattering, so be it.”
Sandra flushed and giggled, then caught herself, clearing her throat and drawing her ample shoulders back with a modicum of dignity. “When you finally get married, you’ll break a million hearts, you devil, you.”
“Why, I can’t possibly get married when the most perfect woman on Earth is already taken.” Lifting her hand, he brushed a light kiss across her knuckles, then offered a conspiratorial wink that raised a crimson stain across her cheeks. “I hope your husband realizes what a lucky man he is.”
“I’ll tell him you said so.”
“You do that.”
Still blushing madly, Sandra sighed, floated a few steps away, then jerked to a stop. “I almost forgot. The drafting department elected me to express our appreciation for the merit bonus this week. It was very generous of you.”
“I’m the one who is appreciative. Please convey my gratitude to your colleagues for a job well done. Because of their efforts, the company was able to secure a lucrative renovation contract that benefits us all.”
Sandra was pink with pleasure. “I’ll pass that along.”
“Please do.” Rick gave the woman his undivided attention until she broke visual contact by turning away. Then his gaze immediately returned to the fascinating Ms. Jordan just in time to see her roll her eyes and swivel her chair around until her back was to him again. That she’d been unimpressed by his employee interaction skills couldn’t have been more clear if she’d held up a scorecard.
Rick’s smile flattened. He wasn’t exactly insulted, but he was most certainly confused. People just naturally liked him. They always had, perhaps because he naturally liked them as well.
“It seems as if I’ve inadvertently gotten off on the wrong foot with our newest employee,” he murmured to no one in particular.
“Hmm?” Beside him, Frank followed his gaze and scowled. “She’s probably just preoccupied with learning the position. The finance department is one of the most complex and important in the company.”
Frank’s reminder of his own importance didn’t escape Rick’s notice. “We couldn’t get along without you.”
Frank’s tailored lapels seemed to puff a bit. He was a short man, thin and balding, with a mustache so neat it appeared to have been trimmed with a template. He was also a man prone to agitation when his ego wasn’t routinely stroked, but he was exceptionally good at his job and treated his subordinates with respect. Frank was an excellent manager. Rick appreciated him immensely and would have spent more time stroking that fragile ego if he hadn’t been so overwhelmingly intrigued by his own peculiar turmoil.
“We could spend some time discussing those contracts if you’d like,” Frank said. “I’m free until 4:30….”
The remainder of Frank’s comment dissipated as Rick made a beeline for Ms. Jordan’s desk.
The subtle stiffening of her shoulder blades was the only indication that she was aware of Rick’s presence. “It occurs to me that we were interrupted before we could complete the introductory process,” he said jovially. “I’m Rick Blaine.”
“So I gathered.” She stared at the computer monitor as if mesmerized by it. Her fingers clicked over the keyboard with impressive speed. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Blaine.”
The final comment was added as an afterthought and without benefit of a glance.
Rich shuffled uncomfortably. “And you are…?”
She leaned forward, hit the backspace and re-entered a number. “Catrina Jordan.”
“Catrina.