‘Team-building? But that won’t involve me. I don’t have the time right now.’
Janet rose majestically and shook the stapled sheets of paper at him. ‘You promised your full support.’
‘But I didn’t…That doesn’t mean…’
‘It means you’ve signed up for the Blackcorp team-building workshop, Logan. You promised top down involvement in this one.’
Next morning the phone never seemed to stop ringing. Each time Sally heard its shrill summons, she thought it might be a call from Blackcorp and her stomach tied itself in anxious knots.
She tried to distract herself by entertaining Rose, who had stayed with her overnight while Anna slept on a folding bed at the hospital.
Warm sunlight filled the little paved courtyard that opened off the kitchen, so she took Rose out there and gave her a large cardboard carton to play with. Growing up in the Outback had taught her that the simplest playthings were often the best.
The baby had a delightful time crawling into the cardboard box and out again, then piling her teddy bear and stuffed rabbit into it and, of course, hauling them out once more.
Watching her, Sally gave a rueful shake of her head. ‘Why are you being so well behaved today, after what you did to me yesterday?’
Rose simply grinned and gurgled.
While the baby played, Sally went through the newspapers from the weekend, circling more jobs that she could apply for. Then she attacked the little garden that bordered the courtyard, pulling weeds and trimming overgrown shrubs, tying trailing vines of white star jasmine to a timber lattice.
Every time the phone rang, she had to dash, heart thumping, in through the open French windows to the kitchen, peeling off gardening gloves as she ran.
The first call was from Anna with an overnight report on Oliver, who was much better. Sally reassured her sister-in-law that Rose was fine and invited her to lunch, suggesting that she needed a break from the hospital and Anna accepted readily.
Two people phoned asking to speak to Chloe and Sally had to pass on the sad news of Chloe’s heart attack. Then there was a call from Sally’s mother, ringing long distance from Tarra-Binya to check that Sally was eating properly and not just buying those terrible take-aways that were on every street corner in the city.
Sally, who by this time had made a lovely Salade Niçoise for Anna’s lunch, assured her mother that she was not in danger of malnutrition just yet. But, as she replaced the receiver, she thought that she might be starving soon if she didn’t land a job.
Whenever she thought about yesterday’s interview, she cringed. In the cold light of another day, it was patently clear that she’d been too smart-mouthed. She’d been so determined that Logan Black mustn’t intimidate her, had needed to prove to herself that she was no longer afraid of hot-looking guys who were way too sexy for their T-shirts.
But she’d gone too far and she’d annoyed her potential boss and she’d shocked Janet Keaton. She should have remembered how vitally important it was to make a good first impression.
The problem was, she really wanted that job. She wanted, more than anything, to prove to her family that she was fine now, that she could stand on her own two feet and, in order to do that, she needed money. But her reasons for wanting the job went deeper than that, and they had nothing to do with a certain tall, dark and sternly handsome boss.
She’d seen Blackcorp’s sleek, modern front desk standing just inside the big glass sliding front doors and she’d visualised herself there, accepting important packages from the delivery man, relaying mail or visitors to various departments, getting to know all the employees and greeting them as they arrived at work each day.
She wanted that position so badly she couldn’t bring herself to follow up on any of the other advertisements she’d found. And that was silly. This afternoon, just as soon as she handed Rose back to Anna, she would have to resume her job-hunting in earnest.
Sally was enjoying lunch out in the courtyard with Anna and Rose when the phone rang again.
Her stomach tied itself into yet another knot as she darted inside and she was a little puffed when she picked up the phone. ‘Hello? Sally speaking.’
‘Hi, Sally. It’s Janet Keaton from Blackcorp.’
A blast of heat exploded in Sally’s chest, like a small bomb, sending flashes over her arms and up her neck.
‘Janet,’ she squeaked. Good grief, what was the matter with her? She’d never felt this nervous about anything. ‘How—how are you?’
‘Very well, thank you, Sally. And I have some good news.’
‘Y-you do?’
‘I’d like to offer you our front desk position.’