Best of Bosses 2008(137)

‘Sally,’ Janet intervened in a strange little voice, ‘let me introduce Blackcorp’s Managing Director, Mr Logan Black.’

‘Oh.’

Managing Director. I’ve been acting the smart mouth with the head honcho. Good one, Sally.

Her confident smile slipped as she held out her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mr Black.’

‘This is Sally Finch, Logan. She’s one of our applicants for the front desk position.’

At least Logan Black was polite enough to shake Sally’s proffered hand firmly, but his right eyebrow lifted and he eyed her with faint contempt.

She might have told Mr Black how very keen she was to work for his company, but her recent gaffe and the curl of his lip, plus Janet Keaton’s warning frown, ensured that she remained prudently quiet.

Rose chose that moment to grumble and rub at her eyes. It was getting close to her nap time. Sally rocked her gently and kissed the top of her head and Rose pressed her sleepy head against Sally’s breast.

Logan Black stared at them and his stern frown faded. Sally saw a softening in his expression, a fleeting hint of a different emotion that made her wonder if he was as tough as he made out.

But the moment was over quickly and, almost immediately, he gave a curt nod, turned abruptly and marched back down the corridor.

‘Well…’ Janet Keaton glanced at her wristwatch. ‘I’m afraid we’ve run out of time, Sally.’

‘But I didn’t finish your personality test.’

‘Don’t worry. You can always fill that in later. If you get the job.’



If you get the job…

Sally felt flat as she collected Rose’s things and bade Janet farewell.

‘We should make our decision within the next few days,’ Janet said and she smiled, but Sally didn’t find this very reassuring.

She’d always had good antennae, could pick up vibes very quickly, and she’d been sure that everything about the interview had been going swimmingly until Logan Black had arrived with Rose. Then, between them, the man and the baby had destroyed every ion of positive atmosphere.



Late in the afternoon, Logan Black ducked his head around Janet Keaton’s office doorway. She was working at her desk when she heard his knock, but she looked up and smiled.

He frowned at her. ‘Have you finished your interviews for that front desk position?’

‘All done.’

‘I assume the other applicants were less encumbered than the cheeky single mother I met this morning.’

Janet narrowed her eyes at Logan. ‘There were no cheeky single mothers among the people I interviewed.’

‘You know who I mean. The blonde with the runaway daughter.’

‘Sally Finch?’

Logan nodded. He was terrible with names, but yes, hers had been something to do with a bird.

‘I think Sally’s confident rather than cheeky. Anyway, she isn’t the little girl’s mother.’

‘She isn’t?’

‘No.’ Janet looked as if she was about to expand on this, but suddenly she folded her arms and leaned forward with her elbows resting on her desk. A thoughtful frown creased her brow. ‘Why the sudden interrogation, Logan? This isn’t like you.’

‘What do you mean? It’s in my interests to vet my company’s employees.’ His hand strayed to scratch the back of his neck.

‘But I’ve been your HR manager for almost four years and you’ve never interfered. You’ve always trusted my judgement.’

This, Logan knew, was very true. Janet had always consulted him about positions in management, but he’d let her have free rein with the recruitment of lower echelon staff and he’d always been happy with her choices.

‘I don’t think we should be too hard on Sally,’ Janet went on. ‘There was a medical emergency and she was doing someone in her family a good turn.’

Logan’s jaw set stubbornly. He wished he’d never started this silly conversation.

It was bad enough that all day he’d kept remembering the girl with her mass of blonde curls. Despite the unflattering fluorescent office lighting, her hair had shone like spun gold and he’d found himself thinking, ridiculously, that it must look incredibly pretty in sunlight. Worse, he kept seeing her with the child in her arms, couldn’t forget the sight of her dipping her head to comfort the little girl with a soft kiss.

What was the matter with him? She wasn’t his type at all, and he truly didn’t give two hoots if she got the job or not.

‘You’re quite right,’ he told Janet. ‘I’ll leave the selection of a receptionist in your capable hands.’

‘Thank you, Logan,’ Janet said dryly. As he turned to leave, she added, ‘But, while you’re here, can you take one of these personality tests to fill in? It’s part of my preparation for the next team-building workshop.’