by Leanne Banks
“Neither do I. That helps when you’re a workaholic.”
Her lips turned upward slightly. “I guess it would. Did you work more last night?”
“For a while,” he said. “Several things need to be in place when a company is making employee cuts, such as employment counseling, instructions for how to apply for unemployment, recommended programs for additional training and relocation information. Despite your belief that I’m a ruthless pirate with no consideration for human beings, I know there’s a right way and a wrong way to make cuts. The people giving the notices will also need to be properly trained.”
She gave a slow, reluctant nod. “If the cuts are absolutely necessary, then the employees need as many resources at their disposal as possible.” She grimaced. “I wouldn’t want to be the one delivering the news.”
“With your soft heart, it would be difficult. But there are ways that make it easier for the person being released.”
“I can’t imagine what,” she said.
“A matter-of-fact approach that offers the laid-off employee a measure of dignity is vital. There are even days of the week to try to avoid.”
“Terminations on Friday?” she asked. “To give people a chance to recover from the blow.”
“No, Friday is the worst day. The terminated employee is left to stew all weekend without an opportunity to receive support.”
“You almost make it sound humane,” she said, meeting his gaze with her blue eyes.
“I’m not out to destroy everyone’s lives,” he said, and thought of Max De Luca. He was just determined to settle a score with the family who had destroyed his.
Thirty minutes later, after he and Emma had arrived at the office, Damien was clarifying some figures with one of his assistants who worked from home when he heard a loud voice in the outer office.
“He’s a hatchet man. He’s going to destroy our lives. All I want is one minute with him,” a man said.
Damien immediately rose from his desk and rushed to open the door. Emma stood with her back to him.
“Mr. Harding, Mr. Medici is busy right now. He cannot take visitors without an appoint—”
“Let me at him,” the heavyset man said, his face gleaming with perspiration.
“I’m Mr. Medici,” Damien said, stepping in front of Emma, motioning her aside.
The man immediately turned his attention to Damien. “You,” he said, pointing his finger at Damien. “You’re going to ruin us.”
“I have no intention of ruining you. Excuse me, we haven’t met. My name is Damien Medici. And you are?”
The man blinked as if he were surprised at Damien’s politeness. “I’m, uh—I’m Fred Harding and I heard my name is on your termination list. How am I supposed to feed my family if you fire me?” he demanded, rubbing his damp brow with his hand.
“The termination list hasn’t been finalized. However, if your employment is terminated, then you will be given at least two weeks pay with employment and training counseling, plus you’ll receive assistance on how to apply for unemployment benefits provided by the government.”
Fred Harding met Damien’s gaze, then glanced away and took a deep breath. “It’s still tough.”
Damien nodded. “It is, but I have to tell you that plenty of people turn this situation into a good change. I don’t know if your position is on the line, but you can be one of those people who make this kind of change a positive one for yourself.”
“We’ll see,” Fred said, wearing a look of resignation.
“Good luck,” Damien said, extending his hand.
Fred accepted the handshake. “Thanks. I’ll take it.”
After the man walked out of the office, Emma audibly exhaled. Damien glanced at her.
“I thought I was going to have to call security,” she said.
“So did I,” Damien said. “This is crazy. I’m speaking to a board member today. The VPs have wanted to keep the reorganization quiet, but the uncertainty is just making everyone nervous. Productivity will go into the toilet. This kind of thing can’t be kept secret. An assistant, cafeteria worker or janitor could find out and start spreading false rumours.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want an announcement to go out to all MD employees that a reorganization is taking place and what the minimum severance package will be. The first cuts should be taken no less than three weeks after that.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that fast?”
“According to Fred, apparently not fast enough,” Damien said. “I’m also going to get security on this floor. I’m not going to have you providing guard duty. If you get even a hint of a threatening attitude in a call or e-mail, then I want you to let me know immediately. In the meantime, the open door policy is over. From now on, lock the door and you and I both will use a key. Do you understand?”
Emma bit her lip. “Yes.”
Damien returned to his office and Emma sank into her chair. She hated to admit it, but she had begun to feel a bit frightened by Fred Harding’s desperation before Damien had intervened. From her experience with her mother and her mother’s lenders, she’d learned that desperate people used desperate measures to protect themselves. Or irrational ones.
She was amazed at how quickly Damien had diffused the man’s blustering, threatening demeanor. He’d stepped right in front of her. What if Fred had been carrying a weapon? The possibility made her break into a cold sweat.
His protectiveness did something to her, sent her into a whirl of confusion. She tried to remember when a man had been so blatantly protective of her, but she couldn’t. Sure, Alex and Max had gone to bat for her professionally, but she couldn’t recall when a man had come to her defense so readily.
Determined to collect herself, she poured a cup of coffee and booted up her computer, her mind speeding a mile a minute. The image of his strong back and the low but authoritative voice he used with Harding was stamped on her brain.
Damien was the kind of man who made other men back down simply by virtue of being. He oozed confidence and clarity.
She took a sip of her coffee as he returned to the outer office. “Have you locked the door?”
She shook her head. “No, I—” She didn’t want to show how much the incident had affected her. “I’ll do it right away.”
She rose and he snagged her wrist. “Are you okay?”
“It just took me off guard,” she said. “It’s not something that happens every day.” She forced a little laugh. “Well, there was that one woman who stalked Alex for a while…” When he lifted his eyebrow, she rushed to correct herself. “Just kidding.”
He looked into her eyes with deadly intent on his face. “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he said.
A tremor shook her all the way to her toes. She knew with certainty that he could and would protect her. It tripped off wishes she’d kept locked away for years—the fantasy that a man would stick with her through the rough times.
He was talking about work, she reminded herself. It wasn’t personal, but his hand wrapped around her wrist certainly felt that way. Maybe she secretly wanted it to be personal.
Appalled at the direction of her thoughts, she pulled her hand from his. “Hopefully, it won’t be an issue.”
He nodded. “It won’t be,” he said in a crisp voice. “If you’re recovered—”
“I am,” she quickly said, stiffening her spine against his effect on her.
“Then I’d like you to draft a letter for all of the employees informing them of the reorganization plans. After it’s finalized, I’ll discuss it with a board member and we should send it out no later than tomorrow.”
Taken off guard yet again, she forced a nod. “Okay. I’ll just need the details.”
“I’ve already e-mailed them to you,” he said. He walked to the outer office suite door and turned the lock.
The room immediately seemed to shrink, and as he walked closer to her, the oxygen seemed to disappear. Was sh
e trapped in here with the devil or the man in her fantasies?
“I’ll be on the phone for the next hour, but if you run into any problems, don’t hesitate to interrupt.”
Fighting the sense that she was aiding and abetting a slasher, Emma constructed the letter and revised it twice after suggestions from Damien. Her stomach remained in a knot the entire morning. She knew she had to inform Max or Alex about this latest development, but the earliest she could manage it would be during her lunch hour.
Scooting out of her office a few minutes early, she left a note for Damien and rushed to Max’s office, but he wasn’t there. She tried Alex, but he was also out of the office.
Fretting, she went outside for a walk and called Max’s personal cell phone number as he’d asked. When the call went immediately to voice mail, her frustration spiked. Her lunch hour nearly over, she visited Max’s office once more, only to find him still gone. She swung by Alex’s with matching luck and, despairing, headed for the elevator.
The doors opened and Alex appeared, smiling when he saw her. “Emma, what a nice surprise to see you. Mallory’s been after me to make sure you’re attending that charity gala she’s planning in a few weeks. She’s determined to hook you up even though I told her that you’re the most content single woman I know.”
“Mallory’s a sweetheart. I’ve got the charity gala on my calendar.” Emma glanced at her watch. Her time was running out. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“In your office?”
Alex must have picked up on her nervousness because his expression sobered. “Of course,” he said and led the way to his office. “Marlena, hold my calls for the next few minutes,” he said to his assistant. As soon as Emma stepped inside his private office, he closed the door. “News?”
She nodded, feeling a knot form in her throat. Her sense of loyalty was torn. On the one hand, she owed Alex and Max her college education and her future. On the other hand, Damien was her boss and he believed he was doing the best thing for MD.
“He’s going to the board. He’s determined to send a letter to all employees informing them of the impending layoffs and the minimum compensation they can expect. I think he wants to make the first cuts within a few weeks.”
Alex stared at her in shock. “I didn’t think he would move this quickly.”
“I’ve never seen anyone so focused. He has very specific ideas about how the layoffs should be announced and conducted, down to the day of the week.”
“Which day?” he asked.
“Not Friday,” she said. “He seems to prefer Tuesday or Wednesday to give people a chance to access support services.”
“Unless we find a way to stop him, he’s going to change the entire culture of the company,” Alex said grimly. “How can MD continue to progress with all these cuts? Granted the stock dividends are down, but whose aren’t? A panic cut is going to bite into our chances for future profits.”
Emma couldn’t disagree. “Unless you can find a way to get someone on the board to agree with you…” She felt duplicitous even saying such a thing. “I’m sorry I don’t have better news.”
“No,” Alex said. “You did what you were supposed to do. Keep us posted.”
Nodding, she left his office. She’d thought she could do this job without it bothering her, but now she felt ripped in half, dirty almost. Distracted as she walked down the hallway, she pushed the button for the elevator. Seconds later, the doors opened and she found herself face-to-face with Damien.
Damien felt the slightest twist in his gut at the expression on Emma’s face. Guilt, he saw it in her clouded blue eyes, her eyebrows knitted with worry. Poor thing, she made a terrible double agent.
“Miss Weatherfield,” he said, because he always addressed staff formally when in public. “What a surprise to meet you here on the executive floor.”
“I—uh, I ran into Mr. Megalos and he wanted to discuss the invitation his wife had extended to me for a charity gala in a few weeks,” she said.
He nodded. The truth was she’d run upstairs to tell Alex what Damien was planning to do. As if Alex or Max could change it. Damien knew they couldn’t. “What charity gala is this?”
“Uh, I believe it’s for cancer research. It’s on a Saturday, the week after next.”
“I’ve intended to participate in a charity drive since I’ve been in Vegas, but I’ve been busy. Perhaps you would allow me to escort you,” he said.
Her jaw dropped and she moved her mouth, but no sound came out. She cleared her throat. “I—uh—”
“Unless you already have an escort,” he said.
“No, but—”
“But?” he echoed.
“I may be helping Mallory, so I wouldn’t be able to give you the attention you deserve,” she said.
“I’m not high-maintenance,” he said with a slight smile. “I can look after myself once we arrive. Date?”
She bit her lip and looked at him with a frightened expression. “I guess so. I’ll uh, head back to the office, Da—” She broke off. “Mr. Medici.”
He gave a short nod and watched her step quickly into the elevator. The doors closed and he stood there for a moment. He wasn’t surprised that Emma was reporting to her previous managers. Heaven knew, this had happened to him many times before.
Her guilt was actually a promising sign. It meant he had begun to chip away at her loyalty. It meant she felt conflicted, which meant she didn’t see him as a total sonovabitch out to destroy MD.
It meant he could possibly win her over to his side. She had the information he needed to take down Max De Luca. Emma was highly intelligent and had a knack for reading people. Her calm attitude encouraged disclosure, and Damien was certain she knew secrets about both her bosses. Secrets he intended to learn. He would use any method to gain her assistance, including seduction. In fact, seducing Emma could very well be the best side benefit of taking this assignment.
Five
Emma spent the entire weekend cleaning and re-cleaning her apartment, but she still felt scummy. She suspected this was some sort of Lady Macbethesque response to her subterfuge at work. She had a hard time looking herself in the eye in the mirror, let alone meeting Damien’s gaze on Monday morning.
With the doors locked, she was even more aware of him than usual. Was she imagining it or was his body brushing hers more often? Did he notice how his hand covered hers on the doorknob?
She found herself desperate to turn down her internal heat and maintain a business attitude toward him. Why did her mind persist in imagining him shirtless with his chest pressed against hers, his strong arms wrapped around her? Why did she find herself forcing her gaze from staring at his mouth, wondering how his lips would feel on hers?
None of this made sense. She’d been assistant to two very attractive and powerful men before. Why did Damien affect her this way? She felt as if she had suddenly gone man-crazy, except her lunacy was very specific.
Thank goodness, a distraction appeared. She grasped at it. The salon offering her a full makeover called to schedule an appointment since they’d had a cancellation for Monday. During her pedicure, Mallory called and set Emma up with a date on Tuesday night.
Emma didn’t care if the guy was an axe murderer. She just needed someone to get her mind off her boss. Staring into the mirror at the end of her makeover, she was stunned at the transformation. With a few sunny streaks and her hair styled in a sexy shoulder-length cut, smoky eyes and plump lips, she actually looked hot. Gulp. Although she wasn’t sure she could duplicate the job the experts had done on her, she would give it her best try since she was meeting her blind date for cocktails and dinner.
The following day, she walked into the office with an extra little bag that contained her cosmetics and change of clothes for her date. She heard Damien on the phone, but he finished before she had a chance to discern anything about his conversation.
He entered the outer office and nodded at her. “G
ood morning,” he said as he reached to lock the door.
“Good—” She noticed the white bandage around his left hand. “Oh, no, what happened?”
He shrugged. “A minor accident last night. It was teen night for Rebuilding Vegas. The idea was to teach practical construction skills to local kids.”
Emma grimaced. “Sounds like it was dangerous.”
“Someone dropped a saw from the second floor. I tried to catch it so no one would get hurt.”
“But you got hurt.”
“A few stitches. I’ll live.”
“Bet they offered pain medication, and you wouldn’t take it,” she ventured.
His lips twitched. “It wasn’t necessary.”
“Of course it wasn’t,” she said. “You probably need to chew glass in order to be happy.”
He gave a low chuckle. “You’re in a snappy mood today. Any reason why?”
“Not really,” she said, thankful that she had a date tonight. A date that would hopefully take her mind off Damien. Heaven help her, the man was burning up her dreams and fantasies. She could only hope that whoever she met tonight would be able to distract her.
He narrowed his eyes. “Your hair looks different,” he said.
“Very observant,” she said. “I got it cut last night.”
“That’s not all. There’s something else.”
“The hairstylist added a few highlights,” she said, uncomfortable under his intent gaze.
“Nice,” he said. “But it looked good before. Ah, this was your makeover. I thought you weren’t going until Wednesday.”
He’d remembered, she thought, and her discomfort grew. “They had an opening.”
“They changed your hair. What else?”
She cleared her throat. “Just chose a couple new outfits for me to wear and some different makeup. The makeup is more appropriate for after work. I have some for to—” She broke off, not wanting to reveal any more. “I’m sure there are more important topics for us to discuss. Did you want me to gather any reports for you today?”
