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“I was simply calling to let you know I spoke with Marcia Montgomery. She tells me that John says you’re a shoo-in for the Bluestone Award. I thought you might like to know.”
Her cool tone lets me know I’ve upset her, but it’s not the first time I’ve done that, and it won’t be the last, so I ignore it. “Thanks, Mum. I’ll call you later when everything settles down.”
“Oh, Owen, one other thing. Jill. You need to keep her on side. If she rocks the boat, that award may go to another company.”
My ex wife.
The one who still owns half my company.
“I have to go.” Getting into yet another discussion with my mother about my ex isn’t something I want to do this morning.
“I told you that you needed to force her out, Ow
en. She—”
I squeeze the stress ball my brother, Ryan, gave me for moments exactly like this one. If anyone understands the difficulties involved in dealing with Mary North, it’s Ryan. “I’m hanging up now, Mother, but I’ll take your advice under advisement.”
Without giving her another second to continue her lecture, I end the call and throw the stress ball at the closed door of my office. Unfortunately, my assistant, Tahlia, chooses this very moment to enter my office.
“Shit, Owen!” she yells when the ball hits her fair in the chest. “You’re lucky it’s me who that ball hit and not Jill.”
I shove my chair back and stand. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Tahlia. Are you okay?”
She swipes the ball off the floor and pelts it back at me. “I am now,” she mutters when it hits me in the chest. “Let me guess, your mother?”
Raking my fingers through my hair, I exhale a frustrated breath. “Yes. That woman is more than I can handle this morning.”
“Well, I’m sorry to break it to you, but it seems there’s another situation that may need your handling right now. Some woman is letting loose on Dirk outside his office, and for once, I don’t think he’s able to handle it.”
Dirk is our HR guy and an all-round jerk most of the time. The only reason he still works for North & Co is that Jill fights me every time I try to fire him. She either has a soft spot for the asshole or she is determined to keep him because I want him gone. I can’t read her mind any better now than I could when we were married, so I can’t be sure which it is.
“That would be a first. I’m half tempted not to get involved.”
“I’m completely with you on that except for the fact there’s a reporter on her way to interview you for that article about the Bluestone Award.”
Shit, I’d forgotten about that.
I nod. “Okay, leave it with me. I’ll head down there now and sort it out.”
She hands over a thick stack of files. “And after you’ve sorted that, these need to be taken care of. Looks like it’s gonna be a long day today, boss.”
I dump the files on my desk, irritated that I always end up having to fix Jill’s mistakes. Because that’s what these records contain. Problems she’s caused. She refused to allow me to buy her out of the company when we divorced, and I didn’t force her hand because I understood what this company meant to her. We’d built it together during the six years of our marriage, and I’d hoped that her fight to keep half of it would mean she’d put our differences aside for the sake of the company’s success. That was a year ago, and since then she seems to have replaced her intelligence with stupidity. North & Co might be doing well financially, but behind the scenes, we’re a mess of bad decisions and battles for control. I’m close to losing my patience with her. The only things keeping me in check are the Bluestone Award and the fact I once loved and respected her.
I push her to the back of my mind and head towards Dirk’s office, which is at the other end of the floor I’m on. The shouting that’s taking place gets louder with every step I take. When Dirk and the woman come into view, I frown as I see who it is.
Charlize.
The woman I met in a bathroom at Dougall and Poppy’s wedding a few nights ago.
The woman who has captivated my thoughts since.
I know her by voice alone.
“Dirk,” I bark, “What’s going on here?”
Charlize instantly stops her ranting and spins to face me, eyes wide. Her face scrunches into a frown, and I can’t help but think that even when she’s frowning, she’s beautiful. “Owen?”
Goddam that voice turns me on. Charlize has a sultry tone that hits me right in the gut. From the second she’d asked me the other night if I always wandered into women’s bathrooms, I’d been held hostage by that voice. And as she’d shown me a piece of who she is while she lost her shit over the ripped dress, I’d been bewitched.
