Maybe what she needed was a guy like him?
Her fingers stopped dead over the mouse, her mouth suddenly, inexplicably dry.
Why would that occur to her? Clearly her other problem was starting to affect her brain. Now she was having fantasies about the men at work. Or, at least, fantasies about this one.
And having fantasies about Damien DeLuca was pointless. He was so far out of her league it wasn't funny. Even if he wasn't, from what she'd heard, the guy was a confirmed bachelor-a one man band all the way and probably just as well the way he treated people. You'd have to be mad to get tangled up with someone like him.
Not that getting tangled up with Damien was on the cards.
'Is something wrong?'
She jumped as if she'd been stung. 'Oh, no.' She shook her head, shielding from him what she had no doubt would be a give-away red face. 'Not at all. Um, here's the file … '
She took a couple of steadying breaths before finally turning. With the opening slide on the screen that she hoped would pull attention from her sudden colour, she gave a weak smile. 'Okay, all set?' she asked before launching into her presentation.
'What do you know about her? That Filly woman. Though I have to say she looks more like a mouse than any horse I've seen.'
Without looking up from her computer screen or mis-hitting a key on her one hundred words per minute typing speed, Enid responded drily, 'And I should know?'
'You know everything about everyone in this office, Enid, and you know it.'
She still didn't look up, but he did notice the tiniest tweak at the corner of her line-rimmed lips.
'Then it's Philly, with a P-H, short for Philadelphia. Her parents had a travel urge at one time apparently, though never got farther than the maternity unit at Melbourne General.'
'Family?'
'Lives with her mother. A widow. There was a brother, though he died in tragic circumstances, I believe.'
He raised his eyebrows. 'Anything else?'
'Twenty-seven years old, single-was about to be married a month or two ago but something happened. Could be a left at the altar story.'
Left at the altar? Yeah, that would do it. He'd got the distinct impression that despite her professional presentation she had a real thing against men.
'By the way,' she said, 'now that you've finished early you might like to tackle your messages.' She swivelled around on her chair to pick up a stack of papers she handed over to him. 'Don't worry about the top one; Sam left a brief message on my voicemail while I was out that he was unable to do the presentation. No doubt you got that message anyway.'
He looked briefly at the stack before pocketing them. So Philly had been right. Someone had tried to let him know. So now he couldn't even hold that against her. He wasn't entirely sure he liked that.
'Snippy little thing,' he said as he rested a hip on her desk, putting down his now tepid coffee and replacing it with a card from her in-tray, spinning it between his fingers. 'Did a good job, though-really knows her stuff. Sam would have taken three times as long. But I don't think she likes me.'
'No one at Delucatek likes you. You're the original boss from hell and you love it.'
'But you like me, Enid.'
Enid's fingers stopped dead on the keyboard, her index finger hovering pointedly over the "I". She looked up at him over her reading glasses, her eyes narrowed to slits, and she let her head tip to the side in a bare nod. 'I have a great deal of respect for you-yes, that's true. In addition to which I have to admit you do wonderful things for my cash flow. But like you?' The movement of her head now looked less of a nod and more of a shake.
He held up his hand before she could say any more. 'Okay.' He laughed, rich and loud. Of course she was kidding. She was crazy about him. 'Why is it you're the only person in this building who doesn't take me seriously?'
'Somebody has to do it,' she replied, adding a wink for good measure before she turned back to her keyboard.
He stopped flipping the card in his hands long enough to read it.
'Damn. Whoever decided on a masked fancy dress theme for this year's Christmas party?'
'You did,' came the terse response. 'You said it would help break down barriers between the staff-get them warmed up and mixing without copious quantities of alcohol. And I think it's a great idea.'
'What are you going as, Enid? Little Bo Peep?'
The look she gave him was pure ice and the lines around her pursed lips condensed to form canyons.
'And there I was thinking Xena, Warrior Princess was more my style. Besides,' she continued, 'I'm not telling. You'll have to work it out on the night. Masks only come off at midnight.'
He shrugged. It was a good idea to break the ice. Break down the barriers he could already see developing between his managers and their staff. Barriers were the last thing he wanted and it was clear, if Sam and the Marketing Department were any example, that those barriers were already being put up. He'd had no idea there was someone in that area with the skills Philly possessed-Sam had certainly never mentioned her.
And it would be interesting to see what his staff came up with for their disguises. Some people wouldn't need much help of course. Already he could see Miss Brown Mouse-with the addition of a couple of little pink ears and a tail she'd be utterly convincing.
CHAPTER THREE
'YOU look like a princess!'
Philly smiled and did a twirl as she entered her mother's room, the ends of her black wig flicking out as she spun. 'You don't think it's too much? The woman in the costume shop said it was fine.'
'Too much? No, dear, it's just perfect. You'll be the belle of the ball.'
'I don't know about that.'
'Oh, but I've got some lovely perfume I never wear any more that would be perfect with that outfit.' She pointed the way to the cabinet and Philly followed her directions, giving a spray to her neckline and wrists. It was nice, rich and exotic, and quite a change from her usual apricot scent. Well, tonight was the night for change, or so it seemed.
She plumped the pillows behind her mother's frail back, making sure she was comfortable before fetching her a cup of tea. Then she sat down on the bed alongside and held out a small saucer holding several brightly coloured pills.
'I still don't know why I'm going, really. If you'd prefer, I'm quite happy to stay home.'
'You don't get out enough as it is,' said her mother, her fingers hunting down a fat capsule. 'You should enjoy it when you get the chance.' She dropped the pill on her tongue, washing it down with a swig of tea as she foraged for another.
'I guess going out just doesn't bother me all that much,' she said with a shrug.
'Then it should. It's not natural for a young woman to shut herself away from the world when she should be out there enjoying it and meeting people.'
'I've got a job. I meet plenty of people.'
Her mother took another sip of tea, picking up the last few pills.
'You're not still pining over that Bryce, are you?'
Philly pulled a face in response, putting the now empty dish over on the bedside table. Of course it had hurt, being dumped for another woman like that just before their wedding-another woman she'd discovered he'd been seeing for a year, another woman he'd made pregnant. She'd felt stupid, naïve and desperately hurt. Most of all she'd felt cheated of the child she was so desperate to have, a child he'd so freely given someone else, and for a while she'd longed to have him back. For a while.
'No,' she said on a sigh, knowing it was true. Abandoning her one week before their wedding had come as a huge shock. He'd let her down badly and knocked her confidence for a six but she wasn't exactly without blame over the failure of the relationship herself.
She'd fallen in with his plans for marriage, indeed his plans for everything, because it had suited her to do so. And while she'd believed she loved him, she knew now that she'd talked herself into it because she'd so desperately wanted it to be right, to make forming a family with him and having his child right.
But it hadn't been right. She would have been marrying him for all the wrong reasons.
'Marriage to Bryce would have been a mistake; I know that now,' she said, squeezing her mother's hand. 'He did us both a favour by walking away when he did.'
Her mother nodded. 'He just wasn't the one for you. But the right man is out there, you mark my words. Look at Monty; he took out dozens of girls before he found that one special woman. Annelise was so sweet. They were so happy together.'
Her mother sighed wistfully, and together their gazes drifted to the framed photo standing in pride of place on her dressing table. The smiling couple, beaming their happiness and their pride as together they held up their newborn son for the camera.