The Bridal Suite. Sandra Marton

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СКАЧАТЬ He doesn’t slur his speech or fall down in a heap, but there are times he’s so drunk he can hardly see the monitor.”

      “But—but surely, someone would have noticed—”

      “Someone did. Me.”

      “Did you say something about it to him?”

      “Yes, of course.”

      “And?”

      “And, he denied it. Then he said that no one would believe me. He’s the one with a name. With experience. So now I spend half my time trying to catch his errors, and the other half trying to keep up with my own work, and the result is that everything’s a total mess.”

      Jeannie chewed on her lip. “Damn,” she said softly. “What a spot to be in. Well, you’ll just have to go to McKenna. I know snitching on Dave won’t be fun, but—”

      “I have gone to him,” Dana said furiously. “What do you think I’ve been telling you for the last fifteen minutes?”

      “You told him Dave’s a drunk?”

      “No. I knew he’d never believe me. But I told him the code’s unstable.”

      “What did he say?”

      “He said he knows there are problems, and that Dave told him I was the cause, and that he realizes I’m upset because I didn’t get that promotion.” Dana’s eyes flashed. “And, until he got around to telling me I might want to look for another job, he complimented me for complaining in such a ladylike way—”

      The door swung open. Charlie, the custodian, beamed at Dana and Jeannie. He had a mop in one hand and a bucket in the other.

      “Top o’ the mornin’, ladies,” he said cheerfully. “My apologies for disturbin’ you. I did knock, but I guess you didn’t hear me.”

      “That’s okay,” Jeannie shot a glance at Dana. “We were just about finished in here.”

      “Makin’ girl talk, were you?” Charlie beamed his grandfatherly smile. “And primpin’, I suppose. Well, darlins! you can rest assured that there’s no need. The both of you ladies are perfect, just as you are.”

      Jeannie smothered a groan as she saw the look on Dana’s face.

      “Indeed,” Dana said coldly. “Whatever would we girls do without a man’s stamp of approval?”

      Charlie, blissfully unaware of the quicksand beneath his feet, grinned broadly. “Isn’t that a fact?”

      “You want a fact?” Dana demanded, marching toward him. Charlie’s smile faded and he flattened himself against the wall. “We are not girls,” she said, wagging her finger under his nose, “and we are not ladies. We are women. As for needing a man’s stamp of approval—”

      Jeannie grabbed Dana’s arm and hustled her from the bathroom. Halfway out the door, she turned and gave Charlie an apologetic smile. “It’s nothing personal,” she hissed. “She’s just upset.”

      “I am not upset,” Dana said, spinning around. “I am just tired of pretending that I need patting on the head, as if I were a—a poodle instead of a person.”

      Charlie’s baffled glance went from one woman to the other. “I never said one word against poodles, Miss.”

      “Oh, for heaven’s sake! I didn’t... This has nothing to do with dogs. I simply meant...” Dana threw up her arms. “Men,” she snorted, and marched off.

      Moments later, Charlie stood before Griffin McKenna’s massive desk, his bushy white brows still drawn together in a knot.

      “So, there I was, about to mop the ladies’ room—pardon me, the women’s room—and the next thing I knew, the young lady said I’d insulted her dog. I ask you, sir, why would I? I like dogs. ‘Course, she says it’s a poodle. Try as I might, I can’t claim to be fond of them little things. Can’t stand their yappin’ all the time, if you know what I mean.”

      Griffin nodded wisely. That was the way he hoped it looked, at any rate, but he couldn’t be sure he was pulling it off. What in hell was the old guy babbling about?

      He liked Charlie. But his mind was on other things. Like putting on a good showing at the convention that started tomorrow in Miami. Like landing a couple of big accounts with Data Bytes’s new financial database program, to put the company back in the black.

      Like figuring out why a woman as gorgeous as Dana Anderson should be so impossible.

      Griffin frowned. Why waste time thinking about her? She was gorgeous, yeah, but she was nothing but a pain in the rear. If only she’d admit she didn’t know everything, and do what she was told.

      Not that he could imagine that happening. The perfect Ms. Anderson taking orders? And from a man? He almost laughed.

      Still, there had to be some guy out there, somewhere, who could tame her. It wouldn’t be easy, but it would be worth it to turn all that anger and fire and single-minded determination into passion, the sort of passion beautiful women were meant to experience.

      “...Just said that the two of ’em were pretty little things. I suppose her poodle is, too.”

      Griffin dragged his thoughts back to Charlie. The poor guy was really worked up, but about what? Griffin was no closer to an answer now than he’d been when the old fellow first came bustling through the door five minutes ago, with the ferocious Miss Macy snapping at his heels. The woman was a leftover from prior management and insisted on defending the door to his office with the zeal of a junkyard dog, despite all his reminders that Data Bytes’s employees were free to see him, anytime, anyplace, about anything.

      “...Wife’s sister had a poodle once. Nasty little thing it was, all teeth and a bark high enough to make your ears ring.”

      Griffin nodded in sympathy. He leaned forward, picked up his pen and scribbled a note on the pad Macy had centered neatly on his desk blotter.

      “Early retirement package for Macy?” he wrote. “Put junkyard dog out to pasture.” Which was a mixed metaphor if ever he’d seen one. It was just that Charlie kept going on about dogs...

      Griffin focused his attention on the old man who surely deserved it, considering that he’d made it past Macy, and with his mop and scrub bucket still in his hands.

      “...Best come straight to you, sir, seein’ as you said there was an open door policy. Right?”

      “Right. Absolutely.” Griffin cleared his throat. “Although, actually, I’m not quite certain what the problem seems to—”

      “Well, sir, the young lady thinks I insulted her and maybe even her poodle. And I didn’t.”

      Griffin rubbed his hand across his forehead. This was what came of defying your own advisors, all of whom thought he was crazy to go in and spend a couple of months at the helm of each company he purchased. He’d always disagreed...until now.

      “Who knows what she’ll do? Complain to you, I s’pose. All this nonsense I read, about СКАЧАТЬ