Название: Business Arrangement Bride
Автор: Jessica Hart
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Cherish
isbn: 9781474015004
isbn:
‘The other women seem to be managing to stay upright,’ he pointed out. ‘Perhaps it’s your shoes that are the problem, not my floor?’
They both looked down. The shoes were Mary’s favourites—or had been until they had started hurting so vilely—and she had chosen them deliberately because they reminded her of her days in London when she had been slim—well, slimmer—and sharp and successful. They were black with white polka dots, so you could get away with wearing them with a suit, but the peep toes and floppy bow were fun when you didn’t want to be too serious.
Maybe the heels were a bit high, Mary conceded to herself, but what kind of office floor was designed without stilettos in mind?
Tyler looked down at the shoes, noticing in passing that she had surprisingly nice legs, and shook his head at their impracticality.
‘I suggest you wear something more sensible next time.’
Mary opened her mouth to say that being sensible was good advice coming from a man who had chosen a floor like an ice rink, but she managed to stop herself in time. She was supposed to be drumming up business, not alienating potential clients.
‘I’ll do that,’ she said instead, and if there was a suspicion of gritted teeth about her smile, she didn’t think Tyler Watts would notice.
She hadn’t really wanted to talk to him but, since he was there, she had better make the most of the opportunity. Somehow she had to convince him that she was a competent businesswoman and not just a tactless idiot in silly shoes. If he were to be impressed enough to recommend her to his Human Resources director, her problems would be over.
Her most pressing ones, anyway.
Summoning a bright professional smile, Mary held out her hand. ‘I’m Mary Thomas,’ she said.
The name didn’t ring a bell with Tyler, but then it wasn’t a particularly memorable one. In fact, there was nothing particularly memorable about her now that he had a chance to study her more closely. She had beautiful skin and intelligent grey eyes, but her round face was quirky rather than pretty, with eyebrows that didn’t quite match and features that all seemed to tilt upwards, giving her a humorous look.
None of which explained why she seemed so familiar.
Irritated by his inability to place her, Tyler took her hand and shook it. ‘Tyler Watts,’ he introduced himself briefly.
‘I know,’ said Mary, acutely aware of the feel of his fingers closing around hers and pulling her hand away rather sharply.
‘You do?’
‘Everybody knows who you are,’ she told him, nodding around the crowded lobby. ‘You’re famous in York. Everyone here wants to talk to you and do business with the new expanded Watts Holdings.’
‘Including you?’ he asked.
‘Including me,’ Mary agreed. ‘Except that I was hoping to meet Steven Halliday rather than you.’
The dark brows snapped together. ‘What’s wrong with me?’ he demanded.
‘There’s nothing wrong with you,’ said Mary hastily, more intimidated than she wanted to admit by his frown. ‘I just thought it would be more appropriate to talk to Mr Halliday. I understand he’s your Director of Human Resources?’
More appropriate and a lot easier. Mary didn’t know what Steven Halliday was like, but he had to be a whole lot better to deal with than the glowering Tyler Watts, who famously gave his staff a mere thirty seconds to make their point. She would really rather talk to someone with a bit more patience, not to mention a few listening skills.
To someone who wouldn’t insist on looming over her with that ferocious frown and those unnervingly pale, polar-blue eyes that seemed to bore into you. It was hard to keep your cool when faced with that mixture of arrogance, impatience and sheer force of personality.
‘He is,’ Tyler admitted grudgingly. ‘What do you want to talk to him about?’
‘I’m in recruitment.’
This was the perfect time to produce one of those cards she had had printed at such expense. Mary had been dishing them out all evening, though, and she just hoped that she had some left.
Digging around at the bottom of her bag—really, she must organise it—her fingers closed around a card just as the pressure of her hand snapped the fragile chain and the whole thing lurched downwards, spilling most of the contents over the floor, where they skidded merrily over the glossy surface.
Mary closed her eyes. Excellent. Fall over, knock drink over him, insult his design taste and tip her handbag all over the floor…Could she look any more of a fool, and in front of the man with the power to make or break her precious agency, too?
Pink with embarrassment and irritation with herself, she stooped to gather up keys and lipstick and business cards—there were plenty left, it appeared—plus a sundry collection of pens, safety pins, tissues, scraps of paper with scribbled lists, a couple of floppy disks, an emery board and a plastic baby spoon.
A biscuit left in an opened packet ended up at the tip of Tyler’s perfectly polished shoe and Mary scrabbled to retrieve it. That explained all the crumbs in the bottom of her bag anyway. It must have been there for ages, and the wonder was that she hadn’t eaten it.
Tyler bent and picked up a spare nappy, which he handed to Mary with an expressionless face.
‘Thank you,’ she muttered, shoving it into the bag along with the rest of the stuff and straightening.
She was amazed that he was still there, and couldn’t think why he hadn’t walked off in disgust long ago. Why had he come over in the first place, in fact? she thought with a trace of resentment. She had been perfectly all right, minding her own business and not doing anything stupid, and then he had turned up and transformed her into a blithering idiot.
But Tyler showed no sign of walking off. He just stood there, looking daunting, and waited for her to explain what she was doing there.
Tyler was, in fact, bitterly regretting having come over to talk to her. He had moved instinctively to catch her when she’d fallen, not realising how heavy she would be, and he was lucky she hadn’t taken him down with her. As it was, she had managed to knock the champagne he’d had in his free hand all over him. Always fastidious, Tyler was very conscious of the stain on his shirt and, as for his tie, it was probably ruined, he thought crossly.
Not content with that, she had criticised his floor, and he didn’t take kindly to criticism from anyone, let alone someone who wore ridiculously inappropriate shoes and evidently possessed a handbag as messy as the rest of her. Everyone had turned to look as the contents scattered over the floor, and they had probably noticed him there too with a nappy—a nappy, of all things!—in his hand and a spreading stain on his shirt, and no doubt looking a fool.
If there was one thing Tyler hated, it was feeling ridiculous.
Actually, there were lots of things that he hated, but looking stupid had to be way up there at the top of his list.
He wished he had never been sucked into Mary Thomas’s chaotic orbit, СКАЧАТЬ