enjoying Juliet’s company been anticipated. She hadn’t been as spoiled or as superficial as he’d been led to believe.
But, he reminded himself, she was a Blanchard. And the Blanchards would pay for the things they’d done to his family.
Returning his attention to the marketing plan, he assigned different tasks to the members and then dismissed them. All except Juliet. Time for damage control.
When they were alone, she faced him. “What gives?”
“Excuse me?”
“What are you doing here?”
Brandon pulled up a chair and leaned back with his fingers steepled over his chest. “I’m working here, or weren’t you paying attention?”
She narrowed her gaze to icy slits. “Why? Is the company in trouble?”
“Now, Juliet, why would you ask such a question?”
“Don’t get smart with me, Mr. Corporate Raider. You said yourself that you find companies in trouble and buy them or revitalize them. So is the company in trouble?”
Boy, she was sassy. He rather liked that about her. “Not in any trouble that can’t be fixed. Profits are down, but we’ll get them to where they should be.” A big, fat, red zero.
“When did my father hire you? Before or after?”
Knowing full well what she meant, he pretended otherwise. “Before or after what?”
She pressed her lush mouth into a severe line and went in a different direction. “So you’re taking over for Leo?”
He shook his head. “Just until your father returns. Then I’ll concentrate on what I was hired to do.”
“Which is?” she ground out.
“I’m the new marketing director.”
“What?” She jumped to her feet.
“Are you going to have a problem working for me?” he asked, keeping his voice mild.
“I’m supposed to be the director,” she huffed, her fair complexion turning red.
That was news to him. Hmm. This could work to his advantage. “Apparently your father missed that memo.” He really shouldn’t bait her, but he was enjoying the passion and fire darkening the color in her eyes to a deep forest green.
She made a low, growling noise in her throat. “We’ll see.” She huffed from the room, skirt swirling about her booted ankles and her shiny, long hair bouncing down her back.
She really was even lovelier than he remembered. He tapped a finger to his lips. Better to keep in mind there was no room for romance in revenge.
Shoulders ridged and hands clenched at her sides, Juliet slammed into Barbara’s office.
The older woman looked up with a startled gaze. “Juliet, is something wrong?”
“Yes, something is wrong. That…that man is in my job.”
Barbara’s eyebrows pulled together in puzzlement. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” Juliet muttered and slumped into the chair opposite Barbara. “I need to talk to my father.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible. You must have a way to reach him.” It occurred to her that Bianca would have a number. But Juliet would rather not drag her sisters into this until she’d talked with her father. Her siblings would never stop babying her if she called them for help every time she was in trouble. There had to be a rational explanation for why Brandon De Witte was here.
“The number I have is for emergencies only,” Barbara stated.
Juliet sat up straight. “This is an emergency! I’m supposed to be the marketing director.”
Barbara shook her head. “I don’t think a mix-up in your job position would constitute an emergency in your father’s eyes.”
“Maybe not, but I don’t have a problem with interrupting his vacation.” Juliet raised her eyebrows in challenge. “Do you?”
A slow smile spread across Barbara’s face. “No, actually, I don’t.” She reached into a drawer and drew out a card. “Here.” She handed the number to Juliet.
Fingering the card, Juliet said, “I’d like the keys to my father’s office. I’m sure what I have to say should be done in complete privacy.”
Barbara tilted her head. “And you can’t use your new office because…”
Juliet scrambled for an answer. “I’ll feel closer to him if I’m sitting in his chair.” The excuse sounded lame, but it was the best she could come up with. Hopefully it was good enough for her father’s assistant.
After a moment’s hesitation, Barbara handed over a set of keys. “The long silver one opens the door.”
“Thank you,” Juliet said and palmed the keys, making a mental note to make copies before giving them back.
She hurried down the hall to her father’s office, unlocked the door and stepped into the dark interior. The faint scent of her father’s spicy aftershave lingered in the air. Leaning back against the door, she fought the pang of yearning that overwhelmed her at odd moments.
As a child, she’d loved to curl up in her father’s bed and breathe deeply of his masculine scent clinging to the pillows. It made her feel close to him. Then one day he’d caught her and banned her from his room forever.
Hurt, she’d left, but she hadn’t gone very far when she heard her father’s sobs. She’d gone back and peeked inside. Seeing her strong, formidable father kneeling beside the bed crying had hurt worse than anything could. Because she knew that she reminded him too much of his late wife. Juliet had never told anyone.
Pushing away the bleak memory, she flipped on the overhead light. The room was so close to a replica of her father’s study at the manor that for a moment Juliet was speechless.
Giving herself a mental shake, she went to the phone. Sinking into her father’s high-backed leather chair, she dialed the international number that Barbara had given to her. On the third ring, a woman answered in a sultry, sleepy voice. “Hello?”
Certain that the woman on the other end of the line was Alannah, Juliet said, “This is Juliet. I need to speak to my father.”
Impatient, Juliet listened to the shuffling sound of the phone being handed over and the muted voices of Alannah and Ronald; then he came on the line. “Juliet?”
“Hello, Father. Sorry to bother you but I have a problem here.”
“Did something happen to one of your sisters?” he asked, his voice harsh with concern.
She closed her eyes against the disappointment and hurt at his apparent lack of concern for her. “No. Everyone is fine.”
“Then why are you calling?”
Bolstering her courage to confront her father, she said, “I came to work this morning as planned, only there seems to be a mix-up. There’s this man claiming to be the marketing director. But you told me I would have that position if I came to work here.”
“That’s why you’re calling?”
Juliet gritted her teeth against the disdain lacing his words. “Yes. This is not what we agreed upon.”
“Juliet, you’re young, untried and inexperienced. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that bringing you in as the director was not a good move. When De Witte approached me with his ideas, I knew I had to hire him.”
She let out an angry, exasperated noise. “You could have told me.”
“I