Best of Bosses 2008(157)

He grinned. ‘Thanks for the reminder. I might have turned up in joggers.’

‘And we’ll need music.’

‘I’ll look after that. I have a portable player. And I’ll pick you up on Thursday.’

It was on the tip of Sally’s tongue to tell him there was no need. She lived very close to the Glebe train station. But this man was her boss. Surely she could trust him? Besides, he drove a very sleek and expensive black car.

As she drank some more of her wine, she finally began to relax. If she stayed calm, this could actually be fun.

She said, ‘You’ll have to decide what styles of dance you’d like to learn. How long have we got? I doubt I could manage to teach them all.’

‘Oh, no. There’s no need for that. The ball’s in less than a fortnight, but Diana Devenish is such an expert she can dance any style, so I just have to nominate which I’d prefer.’

‘That certainly takes the pressure off. Which dance would you like to learn?’

He shrugged. ‘What’s the easiest?’

‘It depends on your personality and your body type.’ With her head to one side, Sally pretended to study her tall, dark, handsome and slightly arrogant boss. ‘I don’t think there’s any question, actually. You should definitely choose the waltz.’



Logan’s sister rang him that evening. ‘I know you’re going to tell me I’m a nosy sister, but I’ve made enquiries about ballroom dancing classes.’

‘You’re an exceedingly nosy sister,’ he told her, without malice. ‘And your efforts are appreciated, but entirely unnecessary. I’ve made my own arrangements.’

‘For dancing classes?’

‘There’s no need to sound so shocked.’

‘I must say I’m surprised, Logan. Very surprised. I know how you feel about dancing and I was sure you’d keep putting off classes. Who’s the teacher?’

‘Er—’ Logan missed a beat ‘—a woman in Glebe.’

‘Did she come highly recommended?’

He sidestepped that question. ‘Relax, Carissa. I’m confident she’ll be more than satisfactory.’

‘Well…’ Carissa was obviously struggling to take this in. ‘That’s…that’s fantastic, little brother. Good for you.’

Logan wished, as he hung up, that he felt as certain as he’d sounded.

Now that he’d jumped in and propositioned Sally Finch he was beginning to wonder if he’d lost his grip on reality. Why, in the first place, had he confided in his newest employee about a limitation that had embarrassed him since he was a teenager? And why had he then gone one step further and asked her to help him overcome that handicap?

The rushed trip to Western Australia must have taken its toll and left him with weakened defences. What other explanation could there be? He’d walked through Blackcorp’s doors this morning, had taken one look at Sally and his common sense had melted like cheap plastic in a microwave.

Then again, he argued a moment later, why not hire Sally’s expertise? His knowledge of dance teachers was severely limited, but he was sure she had the necessary credentials—a slim build, energy and grace. Good communication skills.

Logan’s alternative was a professional teacher and he didn’t fancy being bossed around by an indifferent stranger who dealt with an endless stream of enthusiastic pupils.

Sally was a sensitive, feeling type—Janet Keaton had said so—and she would understand how uneasy he felt about dancing. Better still, she was an employee, so he’d still have the upper hand. Of course, he would pay her well for her trouble.

Everything would be fine as long as he made sure that the lessons didn’t upset their boss-employee dynamics.

That settled, Logan’s conscience was clear. Once this waltzing distraction had been discreetly and efficiently dealt with, he would be able to get straight back to his far more important responsibilities and focus one hundred per cent on his business.



Sally floated in a muddled daze through the next few days. At work she was grateful for the many distractions and at home she gave herself a thousand lectures. It was vitally important that she didn’t read too much into the boss’s request for dancing lessons. It was simply a logical extension of their conversation at the team-building workshop.

She was sure that the boss of Blackcorp had no hidden romantic agenda and she had to stop magnifying the significance of their rendezvous in the wine bar, had to stop reliving the utterly divine experience of sitting beside him in his luxurious car as he’d driven her home. And she mustn’t dwell on how charmingly he’d chatted, offering fascinating insights into places of interest around Sydney.