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Pawn of the Billionaire(31)

By:Kristin Frasier & Abigail Moore


Toni seemed a little dazed by it all. “Thank you. Thank you. All this for my idea.” Then she turned, sniffing. “A coffee machine too.”

“Oh, yes.” I stepped over to it. “This place can’t function without coffee. And soda. Look, there’s lots of sodas in the fridge with the milk.”

I glanced over at her. She looked a trifle lost and out-of-place, hugging her little purse to her, staring at the big conference table and the several smaller workstations with iMacs and PCs. I insisted that all apps from the company were released on all platforms at the same time.

“Come on Toni,” I tried to be encouraging. “Come and get yourself a coffee.” As she stepped closer to me, I handed her a mug. “Have you got any notes about your idea, anything to show Paul? Or are you going to describe it to him first?”

“No.” Her voice sounded a bit wobbly. “I’ve been scared of writing it down, in case anyone stole it. I’m … I’m a bit scared now, in fact. What if it’s stupid?”

“Listen. We will do the very best we can to make it work. But, to be honest, the vast majority of ideas don’t make it to release. But we have to try, or you’ll never know.” I carried the coffee over to the big table for her. “Look, I was going to suggest sitting in with you and Paul at first, in case you wanted my opinion. But I think it’s better that it’s just you and Paul. He’s young, and has all the most recent training. If he can make it work, it’ll do his career a lot of good, so he’s well motivated.” I didn’t add that my presence might turn him into a quivering wreck, but she didn’t need to know that.

“And here he is.” My phone buzzed only a moment or two before there was a knock on the door, and Paul came in.

“There, if you introduce yourselves, I’ll leave you to it.” I went over to the big cabinet and slid out a handful of the basic sheets we worked with, ready printed with the outlines of phone and tablet screen for designers to mock out how the app should look.

“Toni, I’ll come back and collect you for lunch. Paul should have enough to work with by then, and you can go over that together tomorrow morning.”

“All right, thank you, sir.” I noticed that Paul had his portfolio with him. That was a good idea, if he was going to show Toni what he’d achieved already and get her confidence. I wondered idly what her idea was about, and whether she really thought it would make her rich.

Then I tried to put her out of my mind and went back to my neglected work.

I didn’t get much done that morning, wondering how she was doing, whether Paul was really any good. At lunchtime I hurried along to suite five, and entered after the briefest of knocks.

They were sitting there, heads close over a flowchart, deep in animated conversation. A sudden, unjustified rage rose up in me. I had to wait a moment before I could speak.

But a lifetime of being taught control, how to act, how to behave, it all took over. “So, have you had a productive morning?” I was amazed at how normal my voice sounded. Sheets of paper were scattered around. I could see many were colored with bright designs and there were sheets of flowcharts, arrows wriggling everywhere.

Paul was on his feet. “Thank you, sir. Yes. There’s plenty for me to get on with.”

“Good.” My eyes went to Toni. She looked alive, excited, her cheeks pink with life. Was this because she was finally beginning to see her dream come to life, or something I had to nip in the bud?

“Happy with what you’ve sorted so far?”

“Oh, yes!” She came towards me. “Thank you. I really think it’s going to work.”

“I’m glad.” I smiled down at her. “Let’s go to lunch.”

“I’m starving!” She sounded keen to go. “Oh,” she started and she turned back to the table. “What’ll happen to the drawings?”

“That’s okay, Toni.” Paul began shuffling them into a pile. “I’ll lock them up while I have lunch and then I’ll be working with them this afternoon. And I’ll have plenty to show you in the morning.”

“I bet!” I thought savagely to myself. Then I caught my emotions. I might be besotted. I had to tell myself that she wasn’t mine. I would tire of her. Like all the others, I would tire of her. But I couldn’t remember being this possessive before, caring this much that I shouldn’t lose her too soon.





Toni





I groaned and buried my head under the pillow as Anne opened the curtains.

“Good morning, Miss Antonia. I’ve placed your clothes in your bathroom.”