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'And what do you think of her work?' Mike asked earnestly. 'I'm sure you found Josie's reputation was well founded, Luke?'
'Are you?' The silver eyes were unreadable, which in itself was a warning for the 'old university friend' not to presume on their past acquaintance, and Josie held her breath, waiting for the Sword of Damocles to fall—although she had to admit there was more justification in her case than in that of Damocles, the poor courtier of Dionysius of Syracuse's court, who had had to endure a whole banquet underneath a sword suspended by a single hair, merely to prove his king's point that human life was insecure at best, irrespective of wealth or power.
The knock on the door in the next instant was an answer from heaven, and she could have kissed Mitchell and Tony as they filed into the room immediately afterwards, necessitating the normal social introductions during which Mike's question was forgotten.
The other three executives were in their seats by eight-thirty, and as the meeting commenced and the ideas flowed Josie tried to relax. But it was no good. That big, dark, masculine figure on the other side of the room was stilling her normally vivacious tongue and paralysing her thought process. She knew Andy and Mike had glanced at her more than once, clearly expecting something from her, but she was quite incapable of responding to the silent order.
It was her own fault, she thought desperately. She knew all this was her own fault, but did Luke Hawkton have to be so… so satisfied about her predicament? He had her on the end of a hook, he knew it and she knew it, and every time she nerved herself to meet the silently superior narrowed gaze she knew he hadn't forgotten or forgiven her for yesterday's confrontation.
So what was he going to do about it? she asked herself helplessly. Tell her bosses she had messed up? Denounce her in ringing tones and watch her squirm? Well, whatever he was going to do she wished he would just get on with it, that was all. She couldn't take much more of this nightmare of a meeting without disgracing herself still further.
And then, almost as though he was receiving her unspoken thoughts, he leant across the large desk around which they were clustered and spoke directly to her, his voice deep and soft. 'Miss Owens? Perhaps you would like to show us your ideas now?'
No—no, she wouldn't, but she couldn't very well say so. She knew he was going to pick them all to pieces, exact a revenge that would be satisfying for him and painful for herself, but there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. She was in the ultimate catch-22 scenario, and the most galling thing of all was that she had put herself there.
'Certainly.' She avoided his intent eyes as she lifted her briefcase onto her lap and extracted the night's work. 'I've tackled the concept from several different angles, actually, as I wasn't sure how formal or glitzy you wanted the launch to be. Now, this was the first idea I had…'
As she talked the different possibilities through her enthusiasm for the work she loved took over, as always, her voice steady and firm now and her face animated.
'And this is my last thought…' She lifted her eyes for a moment as she spread the papers out in front of Luke Hawkton and her gaze met the piercing force of his. She faltered slightly before quickly recovering herself. 'I wasn't sure if there would be children present, or whether you wanted an evening reception strictly for adults, but this idea could encompass both if you so wished.'
'I thought a play on old and new might capture jaded imaginations better than a straightforward diamonds and fur occasion, and with that end in mind I considered going back a hundred years or more for the day. Perhaps an old-fashioned fair, complete with rides and swings and so on, and a constructed ice-rink with braziers and roasting chestnuts?'
'Everyone invited could wear clothes suited to that era, the children could have hoops and kites to play with, and the climax to the launch could come at the end of the afternoon, before the formal dinner dance planned for later, with several small boats in the harbour providing coloured smoke to form a veil through which the new yacht can sail, beautifully streamlined, utterly gracious—the present in all its glory…'
'The dinner dance later could either be a seventeenth- or eighteenth-century ball, complete with crinolines, or an up-to-date affair to allow the women to show off their Diors and so on—with, of course, champagne on the yacht first for the selected few.' She nerved herself to glance up and look directly at Luke Hawkton as she finished speaking, but the cold, rugged face was completely expressionless, the silver-grey gaze hooded and remote.
As the seconds ticked by she was aware that everyone was waiting for some sort of reaction from the man himself, as was she, but nearly a full minute passed before he broke a silence which had become electric.
'Excellent.' The glittering gaze lifted from her rough sketches and calculations to fasten with steel-like firmness on her face. 'We'll go with that last one.'
He had risen, pushed back his chair and was halfway across the room before anyone moved, and then Mick and Andy shot out of their chairs like startled rabbits. 'Luke, do I take it we've got the promotion?' Mike asked breathlessly, his voice a tone higher than normal, and the other men rose from their seats like obedient marionettes, leaving only Josie sitting in stunned silence at the deserted table.
'No.' Luke turned, his silver gaze flashing over his old college friend like liquid steel. 'Miss Owens has.' He smiled directly at her now, the hard face mellowing for a moment. 'I like the general theme you've suggested—it's both unusual and imaginative—but I want to be kept closely involved with this—you understand me?'
She nodded dumbly, unable to believe that Top Promotions had just scooped what must be the prize of the year.
'And I don't want other ideas fuzzing the edges.' The gimlet gaze returned to Mike. 'No interference from other ambitious avenues, right? I'm aware you work as a team here on most projects, but not this one. I will provide Top Promotions, and Miss Owens, with both the finance and resources to give me exactly what I want. The launch will be at the end of October, which is two months later than I would have liked, but our team of craftsmen ran into difficulties with the original superstructure moulding and it needed modifying.'
As Mike and Andy's heads moved in unison Josie wondered, for a split second, exactly what Luke Hawkton was thinking as he watched them all. He was powerful, hard, ruthless, wealthy; he had just given their company an enormous shot in the arm and he must be aware of the fact, and of the exalted position that put him in in her two bosses' eyes. Did he expect obsequiousness, servility from his employees? She had dealt with enough egomaniacs in her time to know that some men looked on such things as their right.
'Today is the second of June.' The deep voice brought her fully alert. 'That means you have almost five months to pull this off. Can you do it?'
He was looking directly at her again, and she nodded tightly without a shred of hesitation. Either that or die in the attempt!
'Good. And can I also take it that you will obey any instruction I give you regarding the project without question?'
This time her hesitation was marked, and she nipped at her lower lip for a moment before finding the nerve to speak the truth. 'No, not if it isn't in the best interests of the launch or if I think you're wrong,' she said honestly. 'In those circumstances I would want to discuss things with you and see if we could arrive at a mutually agreeable solution.'
She saw Mike and Andy, who were standing just behind Luke now, close their eyes for a split second, but in spite of their horrified faces she continued to stare into the silver-grey gaze without flinching. She had never toadied to anyone, man or woman, and she was blowed if she was going to tell Luke Hawkton a pack of lies. She wasn't a boot-licker or a bosses' lackey; she had a mind of her own and knew how to use it, so he might as well know now.
'Daunting…' The word was breathed on the air but she read his lips, and the memory of her rebuff the day before brought vivid scarlet into her cheeks. 'I would like you at my office on Monday morning with some relevant facts and figures,' he continued immediately, his voice cool, as though his reference to her gaffe had been incidental. 'If you have any other projects under way you delegate them to one of these gentlemen. You can agree with that, Miss Owens?' he added with heavy mockery.
It clearly didn't make any difference whether she was happy with his orders or not, but she nodded anyway, her large honey-gold eyes still faintly dazed by the suddenness of it all. 'Thank you.' She hadn't meant the words to sound so small or so breathless, but somehow the sheer presence of this man had drained all her normal vivacity into a small, trembling lump in the middle of her chest, although there was no reason for it, or for the hostility that flared into life every time she so much as laid eyes on him. And she was grateful for this wonderful opportunity. 'Thank you, Mr Hawkton.'
'You're welcome.' He walked back to shake her hand, and as he did so he spoke swiftly and softly in her ear, his voice inau
dible to the others. 'And you've managed it without having to use that couch at all. Unfortunately.'
