Conner turned. Frank strode into the office and despite the clean, refined lines of his suit the look on his face was far from civilized.
“Charlize, what is the meaning of the twit you’ve hired rummaging through my department like a nosy buffoon?” Frank asked, coming to stand in the space beside Connor.
Charlize stiffened but drew on a tight smile. “He’s an auditor, Frank. One I may not have needed, had I not met with so many…challenges when I tried to get the information I requested.”
Frank’s narrow jaw bulged. “We do not have time for this ridiculousness. What about the contract? We will lose this deal if we don’t act.” He leaned toward Charlize, his finger aimed at her chest. “And it will be on your head. Are you prepared to be responsible for the destruction of Halifax?”
Connor stood, uncurled every inch of his six-foot-three body from the chair. Frank’s gaze flicked from Charlize to Connor. He didn’t need to say anything, just stood, let his body do the talking. Frank’s posture changed, his finger dropped but anger still rippled under the surface of his skin, visible in his tight movements.
“I’m certainly not,” Charlize said. She didn’t blink, just remained calm, controlled, in charge. Not like when he’d first met her. Not fidgety, pretending to be calm—there was real conviction in her eyes now. “But I’ll give you the courtesy of telling you in person. I will not be signing the manufacturing contract. Not now, not ever.”
“What?” Frank’s head twitched, the gray patches of hair at his temples flashing in the light streaming from the windows. He glanced at Connor, and luckily for him, the prick held it together. “That’s not an option. We won’t survive without the cost cuts.”
“That is true, which is why I’ve come up with an alternative. I’ll be calling an emergency staff gathering this afternoon.”
Frank’s features shifted. “You’re calling an executive management meeting?”
“No. Full staff—and it’s not a meeting,” she said, a small smile crossing her lips. “Because I’m not asking for permission and I’m not taking questions or participating in a debate. I’ll be making an announcement.”
Frank remained still then tugged the sides of his jacket closer. “Care to let me in on the big announcement?”
“I think it’s best if everyone finds out together,” she said then she looked at Connor. “Now if you’ll both excuse me, I have a memo to send.”
Frank turned and left as if an insect gnawed his ass. Connor lingered a moment then gave her a slow wink. She made a small huffing sound but her lips twitched as if she fought a smile.
That was his girl. His kick-ass girl.
* * * * *
Charlize smoothed her hands down the snug black dress then pushed an earring through the hole in her right ear. She glanced at the clock. Home early for once—and after the day she had, thank god. After the news had gone down, frankly she didn’t care to stick around. She grinned at her reflection. On the up-side, when she’d left—after having her announcement blasted over the loudspeakers for the striking staff to hear—the picketers outside had cheered for her.
Freaking cheered me.
A shitload nicer than having things thrown at her. But she’d done it—put Halifax back on its true path. And that was the single best feeling in the world—maybe aside from one.
An image of Connor standing at the back of the room as she spoke rose in her mind. She’d lied…hadn’t asked him there because she’d worried a riot would erupt. She’d asked him because she’d known he’d be in her corner. Not in the bulging muscles, smashing heads kind of way—in the silent, “I believe in you” kind of way.
His presence reminded her she could do what had to be done. And she had.
A distant sound broke through her thoughts. Someone rapping on her door. She placed the other earring down and strode to the front entry. Her heart kicked up speed. Had Connor come to pick her up when they’d agreed to meet there? Their tentative truce had softened the tension between them but not wiped it away. Her heart still leaped when she saw him, still beat a hole through her ribs only he could mend.
She tugged the door open and her heart sank down into her belly. The last person she ever expected to see stood on her front steps. Charlize’s fingers tightened on the door handle.
“Hi, Charlize.” Joyce slid a pair of dark glasses into her hair.
Charlize took a deep breath. “What do you want?”
“I thought we could talk.”
She tried not to groan. This talk had been a long time coming. Was overdue. Aside from the incident at Aunt Bess’ house she hadn’t spoken to Joyce since the night Simon had told her to move out. But Charlize had shit to do tonight.