Best of Bosses 2008(100)

‘And are you?’

‘Am I what?’

‘Happy and fulfilled.’ Nick wasn’t quite sure why he had asked the question. He could only think that he must be out of practice when it came to women, because experience had taught him that questions like that provoked answers he didn’t like.

‘Well, I’m pretty pleased with how the house is coming along.’ Rose scuttled back into her shell. ‘Have I told you that I’m going to have it redecorated top to bottom? The whole place is destroyed and, rather than do a patch up job, I’m going to go all the way and really have it exactly how I want it.’

‘Interesting. Sounds like you’re there for the long term.’

‘At least for the foreseeable future,’ Rose said vaguely. ‘But tell me a bit more about Borneo…what else do I need to know…?’



That it took for ever to get there. That was something he hadn’t told her and it was just as well as it had allowed her no opportunity to spend three days angsting over the ordeal of sitting next to him on a plane for a seemingly never-ending period of time. Rose had had enough angst on her plate just worrying about what she was going to buy to take with her.

Then there was the whole question of what exactly she was supposed to do once she got there. She might be a whizz at computers and, yes, facts, figures and financial projections were things she could handle without too much difficulty. And reporting back on her hotel, chatting to the manager, with whom she had developed a pleasant rapport, about the nuts and bolts of city chic, was within her spec…but looking at land in a country she had barely heard of and could only vaguely point to on a map?

‘Okay. Spit it out.’

‘What?’

‘There’s something on your mind. Spit it out.’

Nick snapped shut his laptop computer, sat back and gave her his full, undivided attention.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘I mean you’ve barely spoken since we took off four hours ago, you’ve been stuck on the same page of your book for the past hour and if you chew your lip any more we’ll have to see if there are any paramedics on the plane. Tell me you’re not worrying about what the hot weather is going to do to your hair.’

‘Hardly. I stopped worrying about what my hair did years ago.’

‘Relax. Enjoy the flight, as our air steward would say.’ He glanced around him and then shot her a lazy, amused smile. ‘Is first class all it’s cracked up to be?’

Rose had had to stop herself from fidgeting with gadgets and demonstrating just how impressionable she was when it came to long-haul travel. ‘And the rest,’ she confessed. ‘And I am very appreciative…well…for this and for…everything else…’

Nick frowned. This wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Gratitude wasn’t what this woman was all about. Stubborn, feisty, mutinous and often highly aggravating, yes. But grateful…no. Over the past three days, Nick had found himself looking forward to this trip. The man who had crossed the Atlantic a million times and more, who had platinum frequent-flyer cards from just about every major airline, who could afford to go anywhere in the world on a whim if he so desired, and in the company of pretty much any woman he wanted…and he had been looking forward to a business trip with a woman who made his teeth snap together in sheer frustration quite a bit of the time.

He had never been one to spend hours soul-searching, but his illogical reaction did make him conclude that his life was full of yes-men, people who would jump if he looked in their direction and silently mouthed the order.

‘I don’t want your thanks and gratitude,’ he grated, and Rose gave him a startled glance.

‘Fine,’ Rose snapped back.

‘So tell me what’s wrong.’

‘I’m not sure I’m up to what I’m supposed to do when we get to Borneo,’ she admitted in a sulky voice. ‘I work with computers. I don’t know the first thing about building sites and conveyancing.’

‘You won’t have to. My Malaysian counterpart is very competent. You won’t be shoved into a position where you have to make technical decisions that are beyond your scope.’

‘So why am I here, in that case?’

Ah. Now, this was back to normal. Rose clambering onto her argumentative bandwagon, although her tone of voice couldn’t have been more polite. He was, he had discovered, beginning to know her.

‘There’s more to a hotel than foundations and planning permission. Let’s just say that you’re here to provide the female touch.’

‘Which is what exactly?’