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‘You aren’t.’ Harry attempted a smile. ‘We started early. Peter and I just want to know which way the land lies. Come in, Imogen. We’d better minute this.’
‘Sure.’ Within seconds she’d seated herself at the table, notepad in hand, as foreboding prickled her neck. Something bad was clearly going down.
Yet even her apprehension couldn’t prevent her brain from absor
bing Joe’s appearance. The immaculate charcoal-grey suit with a hint of pinstripe, the bright white shirt, dark blue tie. Professional from the spikes of his hair to the tips of his no doubt shined-up leather shoes. His face was neutral—no trace of any emotion whatsoever. It should be impossible to believe that this man had turned her life upside down, only—dammit—it wasn’t. Her whole being was on alert, and it was taking every ounce of willpower to keep herself from staring.
‘I’m ready,’ she said.
Peter waved a hand. ‘Go ahead, Joe. Explain your decision.’
‘Langley is doing well, but progress has to be sustained and more. Ivan Moreton has come forward with a very lucrative buy-out offer.’
‘Ivan Moreton?’ Disbelief vied with horror.
‘Yes.’ The syllable gave nothing away. ‘The deal he is offering is more than fair. In order to avoid the buy-out Langley needs to meet the criteria set out here over the next two months.’ He pushed a bound report across the table. ‘Again, I’ll go through it for the record.’
As Imogen listened to the points, anger began to simmer. Glancing across at Peter and Harry, she could sense their worry and her tummy twisted in sympathy.
Head back down, she minuted the discussion until the three men had finished. Waited as Joe rose to his feet and shook hands first with Peter and then with Harry.
‘You’ve got my number—any questions, just call. Otherwise I’ll be back in two months to review the situation. I’ll see you then.’
Hurt threaded through her building rage—Joe’s glance had barely even skimmed over her, his brown eyes indifferent. Had he really managed to edit her out of his memory banks that easily—just another one-night stand to join the ranks? Just an anonymous employee in a company he was grinding in his corporate mill?
Well, hell, she was a lot more than that—and she would not just stand aside and let him do this. Forget freezing him—instead her palms itched with the desire to grab him by the lapels of that tailored suit and shake him until his teeth rattled. Her hands clenched into fists, all thoughts of professional cool forgotten
‘Excuse me, Joe. Could I have a word before you go? In private.’
Just great. Exactly what he’d hoped to avoid. The meeting had been bad—for once knowing that his decision was financially sound and correct was not enough. Nowhere near enough. As for the effort of keeping his gaze averted from Imogen—his eyeballs positively ached.
Joe concentrated on maintaining his expression at strictly neutral. ‘Of course.’
The Langley brothers exchanged glances. ‘Stay in here,’ Peter suggested. ‘Harry and I need to go and come up with a plan of campaign for the next few months. Imogen, when you’re done here could you please join us in my office?’
‘Sure.’
She rose to her feet as they left the boardroom, and Joe braced himself to withstand the sheer force of her beauty and her anger.
‘What can I do for you, Imogen?’ he asked, sitting back at the table.
She slammed her palms down on the mahogany tabletop. ‘You can explain what the hell that was all about.’
‘Meaning …?’
‘Meaning I thought you said that you didn’t like to close companies down.’
‘I don’t—and if you read the minutes you just took you’ll see that I didn’t.’
‘Huh. Those criteria are nigh on impossible.’
‘No, they aren’t. They are difficult, I grant you, but they are doable.’
‘Provided Harry doesn’t have another heart attack and Peter doesn’t relapse into another breakdown from the stress.’
Her voice caught and, heaven help him, guilt shoved him hard in the chest.
‘How could you do this, Joe? It’s wrong.’
