“I heard him loud and clear, thanking you for the welcome. Then you dropped the phone.” There wasn’t an ounce of sympathy in Becky’s voice. Some friend she was being right now.
But Dana had more news so she wouldn’t tackle Becky on that just yet. “Yeah,” she said, “but that’s not the biggest surprise. The big shocker is, he didn’t fire me.”
“Even after hearing what you said?”
“Even after hearing that,” Dana confirmed. “In fact, he told me he wants me back in his office in five minutes. Speaking of which, I’ve got to run.”
“Wait,” Becky yelled as she was about to hang up. “What does he look like? Dreamboat material?”
Dana paused then knitted her brow. “I don’t know,” she said, dragging the words as she thought about the question. “He’s very handsome, that’s for sure. Tall, with dark-blond hair and a pair of really intense gold eyes that bore into you like infrared beams. But dreamboat? I don’t think so. Too cold and rigid. To qualify for ‘dreamboat’ status he should at least be approachable, don’t you think?”
“Good point,” Becky began and then the phone on Dana’s desk began to ring.
“Miss Daniels,” Rockford St. Stephens said when she picked up, “it’s one minute past your deadline. Could you get in here, please?”
“Yes, Mr. St. Stephens.” Her voice so cool it was frosty, Dana responded with a calm she didn’t feel. She’d gotten off to a bad start with the new owner and she had a sinking feeling it was going to get worse. Before she’d even met the man she’d decided to hate him and then, before she’d had the chance to do that, she’d gone and given him a wonderful reason to hate her.
And now she’d be reporting to him five days out of every week. Great. Even though she hadn’t been fired, now was probably a good time to start looking around for another job…just in case.
As soon as she’d hung up the phone she whispered, “See what I mean, Becky? A real beast. Anyway, got to go.”
She grabbed her notepad and a pen then hopped out of the chair. At the door to St. Stephens’s office she paused, straightened her pencil-slim skirt, and composed herself. Then she rapped sharply at the door and pushed it open.
She’d expected to find her boss sitting behind his desk, face in a frown, tapping his fingers on the hard wooden surface as he waited for her to show up. What she hadn’t expected was to find him over by the credenza, his back to her, a chart spread out before him. From the door she could see that it was an organization chart and she knew what that meant. Staff cuts.
She shouldn’t have been surprised. This was now the usual order – with take-overs or mergers the new management often chose to bring in workers from their old team or go for fresh blood. New perspective and all that. But, sensible though it might be, it hurt just the same. The thought that people might lose their jobs – herself possibly included – was depressing, to say the least.
St. Stephens looked up. “Finally,” he said and there was no smile to accompany the word. “Have a seat. We have a lot to do today and I want to get started right away.”
“Thank you, Mr. St. Stephens,” Dana said demurely and went to sit in the chair in front of the big desk.
“Call me Rock. No need for formalities.” He walked back to his desk and sat down then leaned back and tented his fingers. “I need to call a staff meeting this afternoon and I need your help. Based on your reaction to having a new boss I can just guess the thoughts of the other members of staff.” He shrugged. “And how can I blame them? All of this is unorthodox – the sudden departure of your boss, not much notice of the changes, a new man in the head office. So,” he said, leaning forward, “let’s put the rumors to rest.”
By the time he was done speaking, Dana had an agenda of eight items including a review of the company’s financial standing and a briefing on Rock’s plans for the future of the organization. There was also a question and answer segment where the employees could sound off on their concerns.
“I need you, Dana.” Rock’s voice was solemn. “You know the team here, each person’s temperament and how they’ll respond to these changes. I’ll need your guidance as we go through this transition.”
Dana raised her eyebrows. He needed her? The way he’d come off as big and bold and brash, she didn’t think big Mr. CEO would need anybody.
She laid her pen down on the notepad in her lap and gave him a direct stare. “How can I help you,” she asked, “when I don’t even know why you’re here?”
For a second he looked taken aback by her question but then he nodded. “You’re right. If you’re going to be of use to me I’ll have to take you into my confidence.” For the first time since they’d met he smiled, a real smile, one that smoothed the furrows in his brows, a smile that reached his eyes. “You are my executive assistant, after all, the closest person to me in this firm.”
For some strange reason those words brought a blush to her cheeks. She dropped her eyes, feeling the warmth rise in her face. He’d said ‘the closest person to him’ but he’d meant that in a professional sense. She knew that quite well, so why was her body acting so stupid?
“I’ll let you in on a little secret.”
She lifted her gaze, glad for the change of subject, but she was also way past curious. “Yes?”
“Mr. French and I, we’ve known each other for almost twenty years. He’s the father of a high school buddy of mine.” He tightened his lips and his eyes took on a faraway look. “He wanted as few people as possible to know this and I guess you’ll have to be one of the few.” His eyes refocused and he let out a sigh. “He’s in trouble. He just recently found out he’s got prostate cancer.”
Dana gasped. Her heart pitched forward and fell to the pit of her stomach. No. Not kind and gentle Mr. French who had been her mentor these past four years. As if to protect her heart, her fingers curled round her notepad and she pressed it to her chest.