smile for the good-looking man with the curly blond hair and the open, cheerful features. "Thank you, Boyd, I'd love it."
"Great. I thought I'd never get my chance." He led her out onto the floor, taking her into his arms in a conventional fashion and smiling down at her with warm, hazel eyes. Boyd Carson worked for Lester's recently sold business. If she had elected to stay on and work for Slade, Calla would have been the young man's boss. She wondered if he would still have asked her to dance if he'd known York's plans.
Men were at their most charming with women who didn't represent a threat to their egos. Nice as he was, she was certain Boyd was no different from the others.
"This whole thing has gone rather smoothly, hasn't it?" Boyd was saying chattily as he steered her around the floor. "The staff always worries a bit when they learn their company is being sold. Work-force reductions, changes in benefits, responsibilities, things like that. But after that statement was issued guaranteeing no one was going to lose a job because of the sale, everyone settled down. That was a smart move on York's part. It got the staff on his side immediately."
Calla quirked her lips slightly, wondering what Boyd would say if he knew she'd been the one to insist on that statement being issued. Slade hadn't wanted to do it, claiming he wanted the freedom to get rid of
"dead wood." But Calla had stood firm and he'd finally agreed. She had convinced him that the ensuing good will was worth more than the threat of inefficiency. Inefficiency could be dealt with in other ways.
Not that Slade was familiar with other methods of management. His instinctive response to most business situations was the most ruthless and effective one he could find. She tensed at the thought.
"Any idea what your role will be now that Chapman's leaving?" Boyd went on conversationally. "Will you stay on in your present position as manager of planning and resources?"
"No, I don't think so," she said politely. "As a matter of fact, I plan to…"
Her words were cut off as a large hand descended on her bare wrist.
"Mind if I cut in, Carson?"
"Of course not, Mr. York," Boyd said swiftly, ingratiatingly. He released Calla with what she could only describe as embarrassing alacrity.
"Don't think too harshly of him," Slade advised, sweeping her into a much closer embrace than Boyd had attempted. "He knows which side his bread is buttered on! And I do have to talk to you."
"Boyd's willingness to let you take over his partner on the dance floor doesn't surprise me in the least. He has no intention of offending the new president of the company!"
"Too bad you don't share his sentiments. It would make things less volatile," Slade commented broodingly.
"When I'm out of the picture I'm sure you'll find matters quite easy to manage. I'm doing you a favor, you know," she added brightly, a very winning sort of smile on her face that had nothing to do with the cool sea color in her eyes.
"A favor! How the hell do you figure that?"
"It's simple. I know you think you know what you want."
" Think I know… !" he started, and she could sense the muffled explosion he was stifling.
"Men always think they know what they want. They're like children who see a bright, shiny toy and decide to have it for their own. In this case you've convinced yourself that you want me. Two things will happen now that I'm moving the toy out of reach."
"I'm not sure I want to hear this," he growled, amber eyes staring at her in disbelief. "I've always avoided the type of female who took just enough psychology in college to be dangerous!"
Calla's smile broadened. "Would you rather not hear the rest of my analysis?"
"You know I have no choice. I have to figure out what's motivating you and that means I have to know what you think is motivating me! God! I'm beginning to sound like you!"
"Don't worry. A little self-reflection is good for the soul. As I was saying, as I move the toy—myself—
out
"Great. I thought I'd never get my chance." He led her out onto the floor, taking her into his arms in a conventional fashion and smiling down at her with warm, hazel eyes. Boyd Carson worked for Lester's recently sold business. If she had elected to stay on and work for Slade, Calla would have been the young man's boss. She wondered if he would still have asked her to dance if he'd known York's plans.
Men were at their most charming with women who didn't represent a threat to their egos. Nice as he was, she was certain Boyd was no different from the others.
"This whole thing has gone rather smoothly, hasn't it?" Boyd was saying chattily as he steered her around the floor. "The staff always worries a bit when they learn their company is being sold. Work-force reductions, changes in benefits, responsibilities, things like that. But after that statement was issued guaranteeing no one was going to lose a job because of the sale, everyone settled down. That was a smart move on York's part. It got the staff on his side immediately."
Calla quirked her lips slightly, wondering what Boyd would say if he knew she'd been the one to insist on that statement being issued. Slade hadn't wanted to do it, claiming he wanted the freedom to get rid of
"dead wood." But Calla had stood firm and he'd finally agreed. She had convinced him that the ensuing good will was worth more than the threat of inefficiency. Inefficiency could be dealt with in other ways.
Not that Slade was familiar with other methods of management. His instinctive response to most business situations was the most ruthless and effective one he could find. She tensed at the thought.
"Any idea what your role will be now that Chapman's leaving?" Boyd went on conversationally. "Will you stay on in your present position as manager of planning and resources?"
"No, I don't think so," she said politely. "As a matter of fact, I plan to…"
Her words were cut off as a large hand descended on her bare wrist.
"Mind if I cut in, Carson?"
"Of course not, Mr. York," Boyd said swiftly, ingratiatingly. He released Calla with what she could only describe as embarrassing alacrity.
"Don't think too harshly of him," Slade advised, sweeping her into a much closer embrace than Boyd had attempted. "He knows which side his bread is buttered on! And I do have to talk to you."
"Boyd's willingness to let you take over his partner on the dance floor doesn't surprise me in the least. He has no intention of offending the new president of the company!"
"Too bad you don't share his sentiments. It would make things less volatile," Slade commented broodingly.
"When I'm out of the picture I'm sure you'll find matters quite easy to manage. I'm doing you a favor, you know," she added brightly, a very winning sort of smile on her face that had nothing to do with the cool sea color in her eyes.
"A favor! How the hell do you figure that?"
"It's simple. I know you think you know what you want."
" Think I know… !" he started, and she could sense the muffled explosion he was stifling.
"Men always think they know what they want. They're like children who see a bright, shiny toy and decide to have it for their own. In this case you've convinced yourself that you want me. Two things will happen now that I'm moving the toy out of reach."
"I'm not sure I want to hear this," he growled, amber eyes staring at her in disbelief. "I've always avoided the type of female who took just enough psychology in college to be dangerous!"
Calla's smile broadened. "Would you rather not hear the rest of my analysis?"
"You know I have no choice. I have to figure out what's motivating you and that means I have to know what you think is motivating me! God! I'm beginning to sound like you!"
"Don't worry. A little self-reflection is good for the soul. As I was saying, as I move the toy—myself—
out
Similar Books
The Smoking Iron
Brett Halliday
Kissing Under the Mistletoe
Marina Adair
The Story of Channon Rose: Lessons between the Lines
Channon Rose
Scourge of the Dragons
Cody J. Sherer
The Body in the Bouillon
Katherine Hall Page
The Deceived
Brett Battles
Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation
Joshua Jared Scott
A Charm of Powerful Trouble
Joanne Horniman
Art Geeks and Prom Queens
Alyson Noël