‘To address this, each staff member will undertake an educational in the next six months. You’re all under forty, I want you to step out of your comfort zone and go somewhere new, try something you’ve never tried before.’
‘Damon, I have young kids,’ Maureen interjected. ‘I can’t up and leave them at this time.’
‘That’s fine, Maureen, we’ll find something for you locally. Ever tried skydiving? Caving?’
‘Uh…no…’ She sank back in her chair.
Bill had no such hesitation. ‘I’ll give it a go,’ he said with a grin.
Damon nodded. ‘That’s what I’m talking about. Enthusiasm. Experience.’ He tapped his pen on the table. ‘Kate, you’re going to get the ball rolling.’
Her eyes snapped to his and were immediately held prisoner. Oh, no. She’d told him she was looking for something a little more adventurous, but she hadn’t meant adventurous adventurous. More along the lines of experiencing something like… snow-skiing in Dubai or an Alaskan cruise.
‘Bryce had an educational to Bali booked. Do you know anything about that?’
‘No.’
‘Well, I hope your passport’s up to date.’
‘Yes, it is.’ She released her pent-up breath slowly. Bali sounded safe. Plenty of sand, shopping and luxury hotels, a massage or two, a cultural show. She could do Bali, no problem.
‘Tuesday, then.’
Uh. ‘So soon?’
‘The accommodation’s booked. No sense in deferring it.’
Kate nodded. She really needed to get away and the sooner, the better. Damon Gillespie was seriously bad for her health. And working with him was going to be almost impossible. She sighed inwardly. Maybe she should take that other job the agency in the next suburb had offered a couple of months ago. Nice and safe and Damon-free. Except she’d been here before him…
‘That’s all for now, folks.’ Damon checked his watch and clicked off the computer. ‘It’s almost nine; time to open up. Anything you want to discuss; I’ll be in Bryce’s office. Kate, you’ll want to see me about the details of your trip some time today.’
Damon worked solidly for the next three hours. He didn’t go near Kate. But it was damn hard knowing she was only a few steps away. He knew she was busy with customers and work that had accumulated over the past couple of weeks, but that wasn’t what stopped him. She was steamed up at learning he was now officially her employer and wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. He’d give her time to cool off while he made some reservations himself.
He tapped his pen on the desk and stared at the wall in front of him. The devil of it was, he wanted Kate Fielding beyond what he considered reasonable. She wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever dated, if ‘date’ was the right word—he rarely saw a woman for more than a couple of weeks, a couple of months at the most.
And those women wanted the same as him. A good time for as long as it lasted or until either of them moved on. Temporary. No sense in becoming attached. Too many other things to do in life to hitch yourself to one person, to fall for someone who might be gone tomorrow.
Yep, everything could end tomorrow.
Kate wasn’t that kind of woman. She needed the familiarity of family. The steady job, a stable environment. Listening to her last night had warned him that she wasn’t his type. But Kate had dreams and was afraid to chase them. He had a feeling the only time she’d ever reached for her stars was the night she’d disguised herself as Shakira, and she’d been caught out. Damn pity for her, he thought, because she might never have the courage to try something like that again.
He glanced at his watch and realised he’d been staring into space for twenty minutes. His hand rasped over his stubble. He’d been in this office for over ten hours and was running on only two hours’ sleep. He needed a jog to uncramp his muscles and get some fresh air into his lungs.
Kate clicked off the program she’d been working on and reached for her bag as Damon walked out of Bryce’s office. For once he didn’t look ready for action. He looked tired, his skin paler than usual beneath the stubble shadow. Almost vulnerable. Which was ridiculous.
Everything she’d learned about Damon in the past few days pointed to a man who could tackle anything or anyone. Wreak havoc if he was so inclined and leave disaster in his wake. She had the first-hand experience to prove it.
He stopped at her desk, giving her an up-close view of the fatigue bruises beneath his eyes. ‘Going somewhere?’ he said.
‘I was just going to grab some lunch—at the coffee place. Across the road.’ Next door to the pub where we had sex on Saturday night. Then because she felt some inexplicable obligation as a fellow worker, she asked, ‘Can I get you something?’