Best of Bosses 2008(171)

‘And I’ll take care of the bill,’ he said.

‘But you can’t. I couldn’t let you.’

‘Don’t waste your breath fighting that one, Sally. It’s payment where payment is due. If you help me to get through this ghastly ball, you’ll be doing me an enormous favour.’

‘It would be much easier to say yes if you hadn’t kissed me tonight.’

Jerking his gaze away down the street again, Logan said, ‘That’s a fair comment, but as a boss speaking to an employee, I give you my word, Sally.’ His hand on the steering wheel clenched tighter. ‘I’m not a louse and I will not expect you to sleep with me as payment for a ticket to the ball.’

Sally’s cheeks grew very hot. ‘Right. I…I didn’t expect that you would.’ She swallowed to relieve the sudden dryness in her throat. ‘But it…it’s helpful to be clear about it.’ She realised she was trembling, but not with fear. She could trust this man; she knew that.

The long conversations at the team-building workshop, the hours they’d spent dancing, the visit to Hattie’s, the dinner, the kiss—never once had Logan shown any reason why she should be afraid of him.

His gaze flicked over her and she saw a small gleam of amusement in his eyes.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘I can’t believe I’m putting such a lovely girl off limits.’

Off limits? Sally was startled by her disappointment. She might not fear this man, but perhaps being in love with him was a worse problem. She longed to tell him that being ‘off limits’ wasn’t what she wanted at all. In fact, his gentlemanly declaration made her utterly miserable. The more she saw of Logan, the more deeply she fell for him. She should never have let her feelings get this far.

‘Is that settled, then?’ he asked her, annoyingly calm. ‘Will you come with me to the ball?’

Sally could feel her resistance giving way. Romantic yearnings aside, she felt a teacherly pride in her pupil. Logan had tried really hard to learn how to waltz and he’d made terrific progress. She would love watching him pull off the dance with Diana Devenish.

‘Take pity on me, Sally.’

‘The last thing you need, Mr Black, is pity.’

‘Think of your own enjoyment, then. You’ll love it.’

She could almost feel Chloe urging her. You came to Sydney for opportunities like this.

‘All right,’ she said finally, ‘I’ll come.’ With her hand on the door handle, she remembered to add her thanks. And then she remembered something else. ‘The ball’s on Friday evening, you’ll have to make arrangements for Hattie’s roses.

Logan smiled warmly. ‘Thanks for the reminder. You’d make a great PA.’



In the kitchen, Sally made herself a cup of tea. She added sugar and milk and took it into the lounge room, where she slipped Hattie’s CD into the player.

Almost immediately, the gorgeous sounds of a piano rippled and soared and rolled around her. The music was beautiful…like moonlight on water, or the first flush of dawn in the bush. It reached inside Sally, touching soul-deep chords.

‘Oh, Hattie,’ she whispered, sinking into an armchair, ‘I had no idea.’

She pictured Hattie, young and talented and beautiful, and she saw Logan as a little boy playing in his grandmother’s garden where white roses bloomed. Deep inside, she felt a bond with them. She thought of Hattie now, old and frail; Logan tall and manly.

Ridiculously, for no reason that she properly understood, she began to cry.



The next evening she telephoned Clifton House and asked if she could speak to Hattie Lane.

‘Hello,’ answered a quavering voice.

‘Hattie?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s Sally Finch. Logan lent me one of your CDs and I wanted to tell you how much I loved it.’

‘Thank you, Sally. How thoughtful of you to call.’

‘I think your playing is absolutely brilliant. So beautiful. It made me cry. In the nicest possible way.’

‘Well, thank you, dear.’ After a beat, Hattie asked, ‘Did you say that Logan gave you the CD?’

‘Yes.’

‘My, my.’ Hattie sounded amused. ‘And I believe you’re going to the Hospital Ball with him.’

Gosh. Word got around quickly. ‘Yes, I am. Did Logan tell you about it?’

‘His sister, Carissa, rang me earlier this afternoon. When I told her that I’d already met you here at Clifton House, she was agog.’ Hattie laughed. ‘You’ve really set the cat among the pigeons, Sally.’

‘Actually, that would be a Finch, not a cat.’

Hattie laughed harder, but then she said, much more soberly, ‘You will be careful, won’t you, my dear?’