Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
He nodded.
“So, the first would be an advertising campaign. And the second would be product development to compete with their D-boy unit. I understand both of those will require an outlay of capital, but I do think the investment would be worth it.”
He didn’t comment.
“Okay,” she said, drawing another breath. “Number five is to thin out some of middle management.” She stopped, watching his face for a reaction.
“Reasoning?”
“Right. Um, the reasoning is that you have an awful lot of people who sit around here and don’t do anything but tell others what to do and report further up the chain.”
“Speaking from experience?”
She hesitated. “Yes, sir.”
He liked that she remembered to call him sir.
“Number six?”
She continued, describing her last three ideas, of which all but one seemed sound.
When she finished, he let her sit for a moment while he contemplated her in silence.
“So, as I said, I’m sure I can come up with two more—”
“Yes. I will expect you to. You can think about it tonight. You’ll start tomorrow. Karen will show you your new office.”
Her face split into a grin. “Mr. Stone! Thank you. You won’t be disappointed, I promise.”
He tapped the table. “See that I’m not.” He started for the door and stopped when he reached it. “Type up those suggestions and send them to me in an email, along with the backup data.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, still beaming.
He walked out, shaking his head, not at her, but at himself. Inviting her into his personal space was courting disaster.
2
Ashley arrived at work the next morning by 7:15, since she knew Ben arrived at 7:30. Karen, his secretary, was already there, her French twist in perfect order, her manicured nails tapping on the keyboard.
“Good morning,” Ashley said breathlessly. “I baked some banana bread.” She set it on the counter of the wet bar.
“I don’t eat wheat,” Karen said without looking up.
“Oh,” she said, deflating slightly. “I’ll make it with rice flour next time. It tastes just as good—even better, really.”
“That’s all right. I don’t eat in the morning.”
So eat it for lunch.
She squared her shoulders and headed for her office. The top floor was set up with Ben’s large windowed office in the corner, and smaller offices all around, all empty, except for hers. Karen sat at the reception desk outside. From what she understood, when Leon Stone had worked here, these offices all contained top managers—the CFO and vice presidents—but Ben had moved them all down a level when he took over because he liked the quiet. Obviously it hadn’t been a popular move, and had set the tone for his leadership.
She had packed the things from her office on the fifth floor into a box the night before, so she began unpacking now, pinning pictures and cards to her bulletin board, and setting up framed photos.
The elevator dinged and Mr. Stone emerged. She lifted her chin and hurried out. “Good morning, Mr. Stone. I baked some banana bread if you’d like some. It has chocolate chips.”
His green eyes raked over her with a curious glint, but his “No,” was about as curt as it gets.
“No, thank you?” she corrected. She didn’t know what made her dare it—just disappointment and frustration at the rebuff, she supposed.
He stopped in his tracks, a muscle tightening in his jaw. “Is it your place to teach me manners, Ms. Bell?”
She felt the blood drain from her face as her body went cold. “No, sir.”
Then she saw it—the faint lift in one corner of his mouth. “No, thank you,” he amended and continued into his office. A shiver of excitement ran through her. What was that? Were they flirting? Why did she find his gruffness so darn appealing?
She exhaled.
Karen was looking at her with laughter in her expression.
Not sure whether she was laughing at her or with her, she braved a return smile, trying for rueful. “I’ll be lucky if I make it through the day, at this rate,” she said.
Karen seemed as silent as her boss, only smirking.
“I can’t believe I got the job. How many people applied?”
“I think he must have created it for you,” the older woman said, looking at her speculatively. “If you want to last, don’t stay out here and chit-chat. He hates noise. That was why he moved all the other offices downstairs.”
“Okaaay,” she said. “Got it. Thanks.”
She walked to her office. How would she survive up here with no one to talk to? She was, for the most part, a very social creature.
She finished organizing her desk, which didn’t take long, since her cubicle downstairs had been tiny. This big office, with the windows overlooking downtown Denver, seemed stark and empty. She would need to buy some paintings for the walls or something.
Her phone rang and she jumped, knocking the receiver over before she picked it up. “This is Ashley.”