This time, she looks stunned. “You’re a … what?”
“A reporter. I got laid off, but I know how to get a mass press release out that will draw attention.” I’ll be helping others and helping my own career.
“Oh … well, yes. Thank you. I—” The lobby door opens, and her gaze jerks beyond me.
I turn to find Terrance standing there, and he is as good-looking as I remember but not nearly as friendly. In fact, at the moment, his handsome face is carved with so much intensity, I think he must be channeling Mr. Ward.
He gives me a short nod. “Kali.”
I lift my hand in greeting, but his attention has already moved away from me to Natalie. “Time to leave,” he says to her.
She pushes to her feet. “I assumed you were here to walk me out.”
“As promised,” he replies, and there is none of the friendliness in his tone that he’d shown me the night before.
“I need my personal items,” she says.
“We’ll talk in the hallway” is his response, and I have this sense that if she asks for her pictures again, he will have her arrested. It doesn’t make sense.
Natalie hugs herself, then gives me a sympathetic look. “Good luck,” she says softly, before defiantly lifting her chin and walking toward the door.
Terrance does not follow her, his blue eyes landing hard on me. “Is there a problem I should know about?”
My fingers dig into the chair I’m occupying. “Aside from me sitting here for two hours when my boss wants me at my desk, no.”
“Ms. Miller.”
My head jerks at the familiar tone of the redhead’s voice, and I stand up. “Coming,” I say, making eye contact with her but caving to Terrance’s silent command that pulls my gaze back to him.
“Call me if there’s a problem,” he says, and it’s an order. “And I mean any problem, Kali.”
“I will,” I assure him, but I am truly lost. I feel as if something has happened that I should be aware of, but I’m not.
He gives me a few seconds more to squirm under his inspection, which at this moment is intense enough to rival my boss’s. I do not look away. Once again I’m being sized up, and I survived his boss, so I’ll survive him. His eyes narrow, almost as if he hears my thoughts, and then he surprises me and smiles. It transforms him into the easygoing guy I met the night before.
“I have a feeling you and your boss are going to be quite the interesting matchup. I might even pop some popcorn to watch.” And with that he turns and leaves. I gape after him, as confused as the Bambi I am not.
* * *
Twenty minutes later I still don’t know the HR person’s name, but my badge has been issued and I’m alone in her office, sitting in the visitor’s chair. And while my mission when I got up this morning was to start a new career, it’s now to write a story about this place that will relaunch me into reporting and help some of the poor employees.
“We need to go down a checklist together,” the HR person says, returning and sitting behind her desk.
My cell phone rings. Her lips purse. “It would be appropriate, Ms. Miller, to turn that off.”
I reach for my purse to retrieve it. “I would, but—”
“There is no ‘but.’ It’s inappropriate.”
I grab my phone and glance at the caller ID, which reads DW. I quickly accept the call. “Hello.”
“I’m surprised you answered, Ms. Miller. I’m told you were a no-show to work.”
How his voice manages to be both sexy and cranky is beyond me.
“Ms. Miller,” the redhead warns sharply, but I ignore her.
“I’m in HR,” I tell him, trying to explain myself. “I’ve been here since a quarter to eight.”