Miss White And The Seventh Heir. Jennifer Faye

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СКАЧАТЬ meeting, but the subject line caught her attention: Elsa White. That name was enough to send her good mood in a downward spiral. What was her stepmother up to this time?

      Sage had always known that her stepmother had outmaneuvered her into gaining control of White Publishing. Sage had been young and naive. She’d wanted to believe that her stepmother wasn’t a monster, but reality was much harsher than Sage had been prepared to accept at the tender age of eighteen. It had been that particular birthday when she’d lost her childhood home, her destiny and her naivety. She’d been forced to grow up—it came with a lot of painful life lessons.

      She knew that if she was wise, she’d let go of the past and keep moving forward, but she couldn’t. She remembered being a little girl and sitting behind her father’s large desk at the headquarters of White Publishing. Her father would swing her chair around until she was looking out over the bustling city and he would tell her that one day all of this would be hers. But she was never to take it for granted. As the head of White Publishing, she would have a great responsibility and it went beyond the quarterly results. She needed to be generous, understanding and compassionate with everyone around her.

      That had been before he had been bewitched by Elsa. After that, nothing was ever the same. Had her father truly changed his mind about the business and her role in it? It was a question she’d been contemplating off and on for years. Sometimes she thought she knew the answer, and other times she wasn’t so sure.

       Knock. Knock.

      Trey ducked his head inside the door. He looked as though he were going to say something but then he hesitated.

      “What did you need?”

      “Um...” He stepped farther into the room. “I’ve sent out that email to the department heads, so I was going to head out to lunch—”

      “Already?” She glanced at the time on her computer. A quarter till twelve. She frowned. Did she strike him as some sort of pushover?

      “I was in early.”

      This new role as management was taking some getting used to. For so many years, she’d been the one taking the orders; now she was the one handing them out. But she couldn’t let anyone see her discomfort. If she did, she’d lose their respect and it’d be all downhill from there.

      “Lunch can wait.”

      Trey’s brows rose. “But I have plans.”

      “This work needs to be your priority.”

      Trey opened his mouth, but he immediately closed it.

      She grabbed the stack of manila folders from the corner of her desk. In this modern day, they still did a lot of things via hard copy. Going forward, she’d like to automate a number of functions, but for now, like so many other things, it’d have to wait.

      Sage held out the files. “I’ve approved these reports and disbursements. Please see that they get to the appropriate departments.”

      He stepped forward and accepted the files. “Anything else?”

      She refused to let his cool tone get to her. She didn’t ask anyone to work any harder than her. “Yes, there is.”

      And then she began to explain a new report she wanted him to prepare each month analyzing the ad space. Advertising was their bread and butter. She needed to keep a close eye on it and if possible expand the magazine to accommodate a higher frequency and larger campaign. Fashion and cosmetics were their biggest contributors, but she was interested in expanding to other areas such as upscale furniture or designer products.

      Trey made notes. “Couldn’t you just get this from the advertising department?”

      “I could.” But she wasn’t sure she trusted the supervisor. It was rumored that his work was declining and his lunches were more of the liquid variety. Until she had proof, she was unwilling to act on the rumors.

      “Then why don’t you?”

      She leveled a cold, hard gaze on him. “I asked you to do it, not them.”

      He at least had the decency to look uncomfortable. “I’ll get right on it.”

      Trey walked away with his tasks in hand. She wondered if she’d handled everything correctly with Trey. She needed to be forceful but not too over the top. Had she pushed too hard?

      Second-guessing herself was a bad habit of hers. It was something she’d started to do after her father died and Elsa had found fault with everything Sage did, from the cooking to the cleaning. Sage shoved aside the unhappy memories. There was work to do.

      And an email to read.

      Sage turned back to her computer monitor and sighed. For every email she’d responded to that morning, there were two new ones. She worked her way from top to bottom. She assured herself that this was her normal routine and not a stalling tactic, but at last, she opened the email from her private investigator.

      The first thing to catch her attention was the fact that the investigator was on to something regarding her stepmother. Thank goodness. He was the third investigator she’d hired. The first had taken her money and produced zero results. The second one had been caught snooping around White Publishing. This third man cost her all of her savings and more. She’d bet everything on him. He was her last hope.

      But the second thing to catch her attention was that he needed more money. The sizable retainer she’d previously paid him had given her serious pause. It had wiped out her savings and then some. The only way to pay him more was to get the board’s approval of her business plan for the magazine’s future and receive the bonus stated in her contract.

       Knock. Knock.

      At five after twelve, Trey returned. “The paperwork has been dealt with and I have your report started. I’m going to lunch.” He studied her for a moment. “Unless that’s a problem?”

      “That’s fine.”

      “Are you sure? Because you’re frowning again.”

      She nodded. When she saw doubt reflected in his eyes, she said, “Seriously, it’s not you. It’s an email I received.”

      “That’s what the delete button is good for.”

      She leaned back in her chair. “You don’t know how tempting that is right about now. I have enough headaches. I don’t need another one.”

      “Well, there you go. Problem solved.”

      “I wish. But deleting the email isn’t going to make this problem disappear.”

      “I take it we’re not talking about QTR.”

      She shook her head. “Afraid not. But I can deal with the email later. Go and enjoy your lunch.”

      “What about you?”

      “What about me?”

      “It’s lunchtime. Remember? You need to take a break and eat.”

      Was he working his way up to asking СКАЧАТЬ