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“Tell me what?” Her legs no longer seemed able to support her and she sat on the edge of the polished desk.
“He no longer works here.”
“But…” She grabbed for her purse and dug out her cell phone. This simply wasn’t possible. “What do you mean he doesn’t work here? It’s his company.” Newman Inland Marine had been battling some legal and financial issues, but nothing insurmountable. Or so she’d thought. She’d stayed late on Friday going over some paperwork, and she’d told her boss she had no plans over the weekend and that he should feel free to call her if he needed help with anything.
He’d looked at her over the rims of his glasses and given a tight smile before sending her on her way. When she’d said goodbye, he’d given no hint that anything unusual was happening.
She keyed in her phone’s passcode then checked the display. There were no messages or missed calls.
Literally and figuratively, Nathan stood there, larger than life, giving her space to sort through things at her own speed.
“I’m afraid I’m confused.” She didn’t want to call Nathan a liar, but…
“Ask him.” He tilted his head, indicating her phone.
After nodding, she dialed the number. She reached Mr. Newman’s voice mail.
The recording was so loud she knew Nathan could hear the tinny echo. She left a brief message then followed it with a text. Not that Samuel would respond to that. He preferred to speak to people. More than once he’d said that texting and messaging were ridiculously impersonal, and he would never do business that way. He was proud of Newman Inland Marine for the way it treated its customers. Incoming calls were answered by real people, not a voice-mail system.
Which made his current behavior all the more puzzling.
“You should have been among the first people told.”
She put the phone on her desk. “Until I hear otherwise, Mr. Donovan, I’m afraid my loyalties are to Mr. Newman. And I’d ask you to stay out of his office.”
He gave a curt nod. “While you wait for him to call back, why not look at the sign on the door?”
After scowling at him, she pushed off the desk and walked toward the double doors. With every step, she was aware of Nathan Donovan watching her, studying her.
In the hallway, she looked at the brass plaques on the wall.
Breath rushed out of her lungs.
When she’d left on Friday evening, the wording on the top one had said Newman Inland Marine. It now read Donovan Logistics.
The second plaque—the one that had been engraved with her boss’s name—had been replaced with one that bore Nathan’s. The metal gleamed, new and promising.
Unable to help herself, she traced the capital D with a shaking finger.
Now what?
Everything Nathan had said appeared to be true. No matter how powerful they were, Donovan Worldwide would not have been allowed to come into the office building over the weekend, replace signage and access the executive office suite. It evidently meant nothing that Mr. Newman hadn’t spoken with her. And that shocked her. She was supposed to be his greatest confidante, privy to all the things that went on in the company. What else didn’t she know?
She pulled back her shoulders from their dejected slump. She had no choice but to face her future. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.
“Satisfied?” he asked.
He stood in the middle of the space—her space—arms folded over his massive chest. With his legs spread shoulder-width apart, he looked imposing, commanding, comfortable. As if he owned the entire freaking place. Which he appeared to.
“I’m perplexed,” she admitted. Sidestepping him, she hurried toward her desk, her shoes silent on the plush carpeting. Until now, she hadn’t noticed how small the area was. In her stiletto heels, not a lot of men had the ability to make her feel small. But with Nathan and his massive, more than six-foot-tall body in the center of the room, things seemed dwarfed.
Because she was a little uncomfortable, she sat in the custom, ergonomically designed chair behind her desk and reached for her coffee.
Then, because he stood in front of her and towered over her, she wished she hadn’t. “Do you mind explaining things to me?” she asked.
“Why don’t we go into my office?”
Her first instinct was to reply that it wasn’t his. The next was to say she’d rather stay here. Then curiosity trumped both thoughts.
Coffee in hand, Kelsey grabbed her cell phone and followed him.
The sight of the office made her gasp. In just two days it had been transformed.
Gone were all the framed snapshots of Samuel’s friends and family. The oversize picture of him and the governor of Texas shaking hands and grinning was nowhere in sight.
