With that, she turned around and left the conference room.
She didn’t storm out though. Of course not. She moved with that insane grace, like she was a poem in motion–
“Shit,” I muttered, shaking my head.
I didn’t like how I sounded, how I was thinking. I never had thoughts like this.
Well, no. That wasn’t entirely true.
I had once.
Back when I was falling for a woman.
But that wasn’t happening now.
The door shut with a decisive click, and it jolted me out of my half-disgusted, half-terrified state.
I couldn’t be falling for Astra.
I’d met her once. Okay, today made twice.
But I couldn’t be falling for her.
It would be a complete, total nightmare.
It would be inconvenient.
Even if I hadn’t been able to forget the kiss we shared. On second thought, it would be inconvenient for exactly that reason.
“Stop it,” I muttered. Scrubbing my hands across my eyes, I started for the door.
I needed to stop thinking about her, find ways to avoid her. Or maybe not. She’d caught my attention. Once I figured out why, I’d lose interest. Or I’d learn that she wasn’t as interesting as I first thought.
That was what I needed to remember.
But as I left the conference room, my attention wasn’t on how I’d make myself lose interest in Astra. It was more on how her ass looked in that skirt. How she’d smiled at total strangers.
And how she hadn’t smiled at me.
14
Astra
I stalked back to where I’d last seen Piety. She was still there, talking to a short, pleasantly plump woman who looked to be in her mid to late forties. Before I’d been blindsided, the head of the HR department had introduced herself to Piety and me as Pattie Arlotti. I put a smile on my face and hoped that Pattie wouldn’t ask me what that had been about. I just wanted to get into my job.
This sort of thing wasn’t exactly new to me. I had a minor in social and public policy from NYU. Or I would have if I’d ever graduated.
Of course, I had enough credits for minors in about three other fields too. Over the past five and a half years, in addition to social and public policy, I’d also pursued social and cultural analysis, global liberal studies, and social work. It’d been the last one that had brought me to the shelter back home...back in Philadelphia. Not finishing that degree wasn’t really a surprise. I never made it that far.
Nothing interested me enough to keep going.
Still, I knew what I was doing here, and even had the experience for it, thanks to the numerous jobs I’d held over the years. I’d done more than my share of interviews, and when it came to conflicts among co-workers, I’d stepped in to help before things could escalate. The shelter hadn’t had the budget for a full-fledged HR department, so Margo had done it all, delegating a lot of it to me. I also had to deal with people in all sorts of ways when it came to the fundraisers Piety and I did.
I could do this job, even if I was a little thrown off by seeing Dash here.
Piety could do it too, which was another reason I wanted to stay. She would be more involved with the clients, helping them as they started to re-integrate into the real world, lining up possible jobs and connecting them with living quarters when and if needed, as well as making sure they kept up with the advised counseling. She was the one who suggested it to me when I told her about what happened to Jamie and that I wanted to get out of the city for a while.
Getting the job had been a surprise, even if I’d known I could do it. It’d seemed like a sign. The universe appeared to know that I needed something different and that I’d needed Piety too.
But I sure as hell hadn’t expected to find him here.
Dash.
Dashiell Lahti. I’d looked him up after the party, telling myself I was just curious. The moment I’d seen the pictures that came up in the search, I realized who he was. His parents were famous, dad a Hollywood establishment, an actor with more acting cred to his name than three-quarters of SAG, and a supermodel mother. No wonder he looked like the living, breathing embodiment of perfection.
But why was he here? And why was he saying he was the boss?
He’d solicited a donation from Piety’s dad. What did that matter? How many celebrities had a pet charity they fawned over? Too many. That didn’t mean they were actually involved in it. And it seemed like Dash was more than involved. He was way more than involved. He said he was my boss. I still couldn’t quite believe that.
How could that rich Hollywood man be the head of a giant rehab facility like this?
Immediately upon thinking it, I realized it made me sound like a hypocrite, but I wasn’t some Hollywood elite who went gallivanting around the country, eliciting funds from people I didn’t know to save pet rocks or whatever the hell was the latest fashion. I’d worked my ass off in school, gotten whatever scholarships I could. The only reason I’d taken any money from my parents at all had been so I could join Piety in volunteering at homeless shelters and other charities while the rest of our classmates were out partying and spending obscene amounts of their parents’ money.
I’d never asked to be treated differently because of who my family was, and I’d earned every single credit I received. And it was a smack in the face to have him insinuating that I wasn’t fit for the job.
“Jerk.”
I meant to keep it under my breath or inside my head, but I must not have done a good job because Piety heard me and looked up. “Hey, you’re back.”
“Yes.” Pinning a professional smile in place, I asked, “Did I miss anything?”
“No.” She shook her head and brushed a thick lock of dark hair back from her face. “We were just talking shop. I need to go find who I report to. Pattie, you have a good day. You’re going to love working with Astra.”
“Hello,” I said, thankful to have something else to think about besides Dash. I focused on Pattie as Piety disappeared. “I know my resumé says my name is Imogene, but I go by Astra. It’s part of my middle name, actually–”
“Everything you need is in here.” She gave me a polite smile as she passed a sealed manila envelope to me. “You’ve got a name tag, a schedule, the basic employee handbook, and the timeline of what we’ll be adhering to in order to open the clinic on the designated date. Anything you need to put in your reports should be in this envelope.”
She glanced over my shoulder, and I echoed her gesture, seeing a couple of others moving up behind me.
“I better let you get to work,” I said, smiling. I moved off, looking down at the envelope I held. There was a map printed on it. Thorough. I followed the little dotted line until I found myself at the door with a sign that read HR Personnel.
Slipping into the room, I found three others. For a moment, I thought that I should introduce myself to my co-workers but remembered that I was actually their manager. I was in charge.
What the hell had I been thinking, taking this job after learning they wanted me to manage three other people.
If I started thinking about that too much, I’d panic, and I preferred to panic elsewhere. In private.
Putting my best smile in place, I walked forward and put my purse down. “Hello! I’m Astra Traore.”
Each of them responded, introducing themselves and offering a greeting as I tried to keep track of who was who. After a few minutes of small talk, I sat down and took the bull by the horns.
“It seems I’ll be heading up this section of the HR department.”
One of the older people, at least by appearance, nodded. “We know.”
His name was Sean Beasley. His graying hair and calm, smiling demeanor made me think of how I’d always wished my dad would be. He was sharp though, and the dark eyes behind his glasses told me he wouldn’t be a push-over. That was good.
“The information packets provided were very thorough.” He looked down a
t his folder. “Seems this is your first jaunt into a manager type position, Ms. Traore. What made you take that leap?”
A cold sweat broke out over my skin at those words.
Jamie.
Ignoring the knot in my stomach, I kept my smile firmly in place as I responded. “I needed a change. Back in Philadelphia, I’d been working with at-risk youth for a while, and I loved it, but there were times when it tore out my heart and left my soul to dribble out through the hole left in my sternum.”
“You have a way with words.” That came from the woman sitting opposite Sean. The grimace on her face made me think she was picturing what I’d just said.
“Sorry. I’ve been told I can be a little dramatic.” Determined not to let thoughts of Jamie overwhelm me, I asked, “What was your name again?”
“Gianna,” she reminded me. Dark auburn hair swept back from a face that could only be described as patrician. She wasn’t beautiful, but she was elegant and stately, the kind of woman who would still command attention when she was in her eighties. Her eyes were wide-set and shrewd, studying me with thoughtful consideration. “I left the Radner Center to come here. I was the assistant human resources director there for five years.”
Yeah, she was going to be my problem employee. I could tell that before she said anything else.
“You came from a shelter for homeless teens in Philadelphia.” She picked up a folder similar to the one Sean held.
“I did.” Taking the seat at the head of the table, I folded my hands and met her gaze. “And the people here must have thought I’d learned a thing or two about conflict resolution and dealing with ungrateful, sarcastic asswipes since they hired me for this position.”
“I think you’re quite ready to handle this job then,” Sean said with a suppressed smile.
“I like to think I can hold my own.”
A few hours later, I was wishing I hadn’t done this at all.
We’d just finished up for the morning, and I already felt like I’d just spent the entire morning sandbagging an opposing team.
I guessed in a way I had.
We should have been discussing the policies and procedures. I should have started developing a basis for them, except I’d only been offered the job less than a week ago, and I had no idea where to start building a department from the ground up.
But I was a pro at faking it, so we’d played a merry little game of let’s introduce ourselves, followed by so…what’s your background. I’d discreetly turned my phone’s recorder on so I could keep track of what everybody saying – or at least listen later – while I made furious notes on things I needed to do.
Call old boss, get her input.
Call other contacts, get their input.
Research online. Call whoever you can think of, get input.
“Are you taking notes about us?”
That came from Gianna, and I looked up, thankful I’d been listening with half an ear. “No. I’m making notes for everything we need to focus on next week.”
“Next week?” She tapped her pen against the pad of paper she’d placed in front of her. “Do you plan on waiting until then to get to work?”
I’d already come to the realization that the job she’d wanted was the one I had. She’d made a hundred little pot shots, and I was under no illusions that she’d take being placed under me – a woman probably fifteen years younger than her – easily.
But I wasn’t playing power games, either.
“I plan on being realistic,” I said honestly. “With Thanksgiving, it’s a short week. Two days where we can basically get to know each other and get familiar with the facility. Two days where we can toss around ideas before we really get to work. I need to know strengths and weaknesses to come up with a game plan the boss won’t just toss out on principle.”
The door opened then, the knock coming two seconds after the faint click.
I didn’t even have to look up to know who it was, not when all the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up, my skin humming.
Dash.
He came inside and glanced around, nodding before he took a seat.
Shit.
I was tempted to get up, walk out into the hallway and find my very nice office, lock myself in my very nice bathroom and scream just that. SHIT. Why was he in here?
I almost blurted that out but kept it behind my teeth and gave him a stiff nod. “Hello, Dash.”
If my use of his given name bothered him, he didn’t show it. He just offered another nod and said in a calm voice, “Please, don’t let me interrupt.”
I managed not to scowl at him.
“Don’t worry about that, Mr. Lahti.” Gianna managed to make his last name sound like seduction. “We’re not doing too much in here just yet. Ms. Traore is of a mind that we won’t get much accomplished this week, so we’re mostly covering my history and experience. This younger generation of management takes a very low-key approach.”
So sweetly said.
Such a back-handed insult.
I didn’t know if anybody else heard the venom, but I did.
Dash glanced at me, expression unreadable.
“I wouldn’t say we’re not doing much,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “It’s hard to put together an effective game plan without knowing my team. Sean, for example, is an old hat at this.” I smiled at him. “I’m surprised he wasn’t offered the job.”
“I was.” The older man leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together over his belly. “But I told Fred I didn’t want management. Management makes most people mean or old before their time.” He winked at me. “I think you might do just fine, but I’m not taking a risk. I’m already old. Why risk it?”
I had to assume Fred was Frederick Lieu, a very formal, polished-looking man I met earlier that morning when he’d come to the conference room and introduced himself.
“You mean you don’t want my job?” I asked the older man.
“Not if you paid me your weight in gold every week,” Sean said happily.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Gianna practically perched on the edge of her seat, waiting for me to turn my attention to her. I looked at Dash instead. “Was there something specific you needed, Dash?”
“No.” He resumed studying the room, almost like he’d never seen it before. He wasn’t paying much attention to any of us, including me.
That was how it seemed, anyway. But as I directed my attention back to Sean and Gianna, I could feel his gaze on me. I didn’t acknowledge it though.
“So, Gianna, at your previous job, what practices worked best for you? What didn’t work?”
Twenty minutes later, I couldn’t handle anymore and a glance at the clock almost had me sighing in relief.
“It looks like it’s time for lunch. If I recall correctly, Dash has made arrangements for everyone to eat here.” I smiled brightly at the others and stood up, gathering my things. “After lunch, we’re to report to the conference room down the hall for a few general orientation items.”
I focused on shuffling my papers, not looking up until the sound of the door closing had me breathing out a huge sigh of relief. I straightened from the desk with a groan.
“Oh, man. Thank God. Thank God.”
“If you needed a break that bad, you could have called it off sooner.”
The sound of a too-familiar male voice had me yelping, and I spun around to see him standing in front of the closed door, hands in the front pockets of his steel-gray suit. A suit I hadn’t allowed myself to fully appreciate until now.
“Shit!” Glaring at him, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I thought you’d left.”
“If you’d been listening, you would have heard me say I needed to speak with you.”
With me?
Shit.
He had a cool, collected way about him that irritated me. It left me feeling like he had the upper hand, and that really irritated me. I was used to having the upper hand.
But damned
if I’d let him see that.
I leaned back against the desk. Feeling embarrassed about my reaction just a few seconds earlier, I smoothed my hair back from my face. “You startled me. I thought I was in here alone.”
“Obviously.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers, head cocked. “If you’re already worn out after…” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Four hours of work, you’ll have a hard time of this. We’ve got a lot of work to do if we want to get this place open on time, and it won’t get any easier after that.”
The unspoken words came through loud and clear.
You can’t do this job.
I smiled sweetly.
“Dash,” I paused, drawing his name out. “That’s short for Dashiell, right?”
“Yes.” He spoke through gritted teeth.
I clicked my tongue and shook my head. “I’m not sure Dash fits you. You’re so…polished. So proper. A bit withdrawn too.”
“Is there a point to this?”
“So touchy.” Huffing a bit, I lifted a shoulder, feeling better now that I’d managed to unsettle him a little. “I just don’t see it. Then again, your father is an actor, and I guess among children named Arrow and Audio Science, Dash isn’t exactly the odd one out.”
A faint touch of red settled on his cheeks, and I could see that he was debating on whether to argue with me. It was there in his eyes. But in the end, all he did was shake his head slightly as if he didn’t see the point.
“Can we get back to discussing the job?”
The one you think I’m not cut out for, right?
I didn’t say any of that though. Instead, I gave him that same sweet smile. “Absolutely. As I was saying, you’ll have to be patient. I spent the weekend flying across the country, and before that, I was uprooting everything I’d ever known to accept a job that was just offered to me a few short days ago. I’m a bit tired at the moment.”
Clearly caught off-guard, Dash didn’t say anything for a few moments. Then he blew out a hard breath. “I guess I might have pushed everybody a little hard, dragging all of you in without even a week’s notice.”