Hot Boss, Boardroom Mistress. Natalie Anderson

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      I still can’t believe I’ve been fortunate enough

      to have one story published, let alone getting to this—my

      tenth title. But my real luck was when a certain

      editor pulled my manuscript out of the pile

      and saw something she could develop.

      So, to the hugely supportive Sally: for all your help

      and effort, I cannot thank you enough.

      Chapter One

      AMANDA snatched a second to glance up, checking the manufacturer’s plate detailing the date and location of construction, on the upper inside of the door frame. Yes, it was real, it had been built in a proper factory and fingers crossed it wouldn’t fall out of the sky with her in it. Only once she’d scanned it did she step over and onto the plane. She’d never board without seeing that little rectangle of metal with its punched-in lettering first.

      Ritual reassurance achieved, her gaze dropped again, right to the floor, thus avoiding the censorious glares of the air stewards as they grimly gestured to her seat. She knew they were cross, had heard the huffing and puffing from the internal phone system. Taking two steps down the narrow aisle she could feel the equally burning glares of the passengers—having held them up for a full five minutes. Not that long in the grand scheme of things, but seemingly an eternity for plane passengers. She could hear their murmurs of grumbling discontent.

      Too bad. She tilted her chin and tried harder to ignore them. This had been an emergency—too many people were counting on her. Thank heavens for her old university buddy Kathryn who’d got her onto the flight last minute and managed to get the ground staff to hold the plane for her as she’d sprinted down the corridor. One second later and that door would have been shut. And if she hadn’t got this, the last flight out today, she might not have made it back to Auckland tomorrow in time for the meeting. The risk of fog in the early morning was too great. So she’d made the hour drive from Ashburton to Christchurch in record-breaking time—just keeping within the legal speed limits—and then Kathryn had worked her magic.

      Without so much as a glance at the person occupying the window seat next to her aisle one, she pushed her laptop bag into the stowage compartment in front of her feet. She’d get it out again as soon as they had levelled out and get to work. The flight was only a little over an hour but every minute counted. This pitch had to be perfect—the company needed the business to stay afloat and she needed to keep her job. Money mattered—and yes, it was a life and death thing.

      She snapped together her safety belt; the plane was already taxiing down the runway and the stewards were quickly covering the mandatory safety basics. She could just about recite the phrases with them—having made this trip too many times in the last two months. It was only then that she noticed that she was seated in the small business class section. She hadn’t travelled in this exclusive section of a plane in years.

      Bless Kathryn.

      But СКАЧАТЬ