batted her eyelashes at him. “Maybe we can get together over coffee, and you can give me a few more ideas.”
Ideas weren’t what Tess wanted to give her. A swift kick to an ample area came to mind. How dare the woman use this forum as her own personal dating service? “I’d like a show of hands. Who isn’t completely satisfied with the marketing program I’ve outlined?”
Only half a dozen hands went up, Laura’s among them. But, of those, two were major retailers and one was an anchor store. It was their profits she most needed to salvage!
Resigned to another rash of eighteen hour workdays, she kissed her weekend plans with her parents goodbye. “I’ll be happy to address each of your concerns,” she told the rebelling ranks. “Either talk with me before you leave today or call for an appointment.”
Several nodding heads told her there were others with doubts that hadn’t raised their hands. She fingered Dan’s stress card in her skirt pocket, tempted to pull it out. Not to give it back, as she’d intended when she placed it there this morning, but to test it once again.
Yet, she knew pleasant thoughts wouldn’t begin to calm the sea of acid now churning in her belly. She hadn’t a clue where to shake more time from her schedule. One thing was clear, though. Longer hours would become the rule not the exception if, when, she got her promotion. She’d better get used to it.
Not that her mind didn’t stage its own mini-rebellion. Her plate was full. She’d been fighting headaches and indigestion for months. And, although she spoke on the phone with her parents several times a week, she hadn’t seen them in over a month. Was it any wonder they’d begun to suspect something was wrong?
With a sigh, she crushed the mutiny. This promotion was vital to her career, critical to her father’s health. She had no choice. First, she’d clean up this little mess. Then she’d hit her directors again and again, until the shopping center was operating the way it should. Finally, somehow, she’d find a way to make the next Sunday brunch at her parents’ house to smooth over their worry about her.
Who needed five hours of sleep anyway?
***
Tess knew right away, she was dreaming. A lowly Thorgram Group manager with one fingernail on the next promotional rung did not openly defy her directors about company policy. And, she frowned, it would never occur to her to wear black silk stockings with a strapless, red sequin sheath to the office. Thankfully, she could do anything she wanted in her dreams.
A small smile played with her mouth, making her Vermilion Passion lipstick shine more appealingly. Maybe her subconscious had an idea of worth. She’d tried about everything else in her bid for cooperation from her superiors. Taking a step backward, she allowed the scene to unfold in her mind.
From her perch on the edge of her desk, Tess smiled at the glazed expression on Mr. Thorgram’s face. The CEO sat before her in her big swivel chair while her shoeless foot worked its way up his pant leg. The old codger, her worst critic among the directors, probably hadn’t seen this much leg in the past thirty years. She wasn’t sure how much he could take before he keeled over, but she was determined to sway him to her way of thinking.
This time, the bugger would pour her a cup of coffee!
Her smile faltered when the scene melted, coalescing into something new. Her toes, sensitized by the feel of silk against her skin, were no longer skimming Thorgram’s leg, but caught in the firm grip of a large masculine hand. She looked into Dan McDonald’s hot gaze seconds before he stood, swept her neat stacks of papers from the desk beneath her and laid her back against the bare cherry wood top.
Her legs wrapped around him as she lifted into his kiss without a whimper of debate. Their lips locked. Tongues mated. A tangled mix of tastes and scents assailed her senses. Coffee and peppermint. Woodsy aftershave and clean male.
Ideas weren’t what Tess wanted to give her. A swift kick to an ample area came to mind. How dare the woman use this forum as her own personal dating service? “I’d like a show of hands. Who isn’t completely satisfied with the marketing program I’ve outlined?”
Only half a dozen hands went up, Laura’s among them. But, of those, two were major retailers and one was an anchor store. It was their profits she most needed to salvage!
Resigned to another rash of eighteen hour workdays, she kissed her weekend plans with her parents goodbye. “I’ll be happy to address each of your concerns,” she told the rebelling ranks. “Either talk with me before you leave today or call for an appointment.”
Several nodding heads told her there were others with doubts that hadn’t raised their hands. She fingered Dan’s stress card in her skirt pocket, tempted to pull it out. Not to give it back, as she’d intended when she placed it there this morning, but to test it once again.
Yet, she knew pleasant thoughts wouldn’t begin to calm the sea of acid now churning in her belly. She hadn’t a clue where to shake more time from her schedule. One thing was clear, though. Longer hours would become the rule not the exception if, when, she got her promotion. She’d better get used to it.
Not that her mind didn’t stage its own mini-rebellion. Her plate was full. She’d been fighting headaches and indigestion for months. And, although she spoke on the phone with her parents several times a week, she hadn’t seen them in over a month. Was it any wonder they’d begun to suspect something was wrong?
With a sigh, she crushed the mutiny. This promotion was vital to her career, critical to her father’s health. She had no choice. First, she’d clean up this little mess. Then she’d hit her directors again and again, until the shopping center was operating the way it should. Finally, somehow, she’d find a way to make the next Sunday brunch at her parents’ house to smooth over their worry about her.
Who needed five hours of sleep anyway?
***
Tess knew right away, she was dreaming. A lowly Thorgram Group manager with one fingernail on the next promotional rung did not openly defy her directors about company policy. And, she frowned, it would never occur to her to wear black silk stockings with a strapless, red sequin sheath to the office. Thankfully, she could do anything she wanted in her dreams.
A small smile played with her mouth, making her Vermilion Passion lipstick shine more appealingly. Maybe her subconscious had an idea of worth. She’d tried about everything else in her bid for cooperation from her superiors. Taking a step backward, she allowed the scene to unfold in her mind.
From her perch on the edge of her desk, Tess smiled at the glazed expression on Mr. Thorgram’s face. The CEO sat before her in her big swivel chair while her shoeless foot worked its way up his pant leg. The old codger, her worst critic among the directors, probably hadn’t seen this much leg in the past thirty years. She wasn’t sure how much he could take before he keeled over, but she was determined to sway him to her way of thinking.
This time, the bugger would pour her a cup of coffee!
Her smile faltered when the scene melted, coalescing into something new. Her toes, sensitized by the feel of silk against her skin, were no longer skimming Thorgram’s leg, but caught in the firm grip of a large masculine hand. She looked into Dan McDonald’s hot gaze seconds before he stood, swept her neat stacks of papers from the desk beneath her and laid her back against the bare cherry wood top.
Her legs wrapped around him as she lifted into his kiss without a whimper of debate. Their lips locked. Tongues mated. A tangled mix of tastes and scents assailed her senses. Coffee and peppermint. Woodsy aftershave and clean male.
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