antennae, could pick up vibes very quickly, and she’d been sure that everything about the interview had been going swimmingly until Logan Black had arrived with Rose. Then, between them, the man and the baby had destroyed every ion of positive atmosphere.
Late in the afternoon, Logan Black ducked his head around Janet Keaton’s office doorway. She was working at her desk when she heard his knock, but she looked up and smiled.
He frowned at her. ‘Have you finished your interviews for that front desk position?’
‘All done.’
‘I assume the other applicants were less encumbered than the cheeky single mother I met this morning.’
Janet narrowed her eyes at Logan. ‘There were no cheeky single mothers among the people I interviewed.’
‘You know who I mean. The blonde with the runaway daughter.’
‘Sally Finch?’
Logan nodded. He was terrible with names, but yes, hers had been something to do with a bird.
‘I think Sally’s confident rather than cheeky. Anyway, she isn’t the little girl’s mother.’
‘She isn’t?’
‘No.’ Janet looked as if she was about to expand on this, but suddenly she folded her arms and leaned forward with her elbows resting on her desk. A thoughtful frown creased her brow. ‘Why the sudden interrogation, Logan? This isn’t like you.’
‘What do you mean? It’s in my interests to vet my company’s employees.’ His hand strayed to scratch the back of his neck.
‘But I’ve been your HR manager for almost four years and you’ve never interfered. You’ve always trusted my judgement.’
This, Logan knew, was very true. Janet had always consulted him about positions in management, but he’d let her have free rein with the recruitment of lower echelon staff and he’d always been happy with her choices.
‘I don’t think we should be too hard on Sally,’ Janet went on. ‘There was a medical emergency and she was doing someone in her family a good turn.’
Logan’s jaw set stubbornly. He wished he’d never started this silly conversation.
It was bad enough that all day he’d kept remembering the girl with her mass of blonde curls. Despite the unflattering fluorescent office lighting, her hair had shone like spun gold and he’d found himself thinking, ridiculously, that it must look incredibly pretty in sunlight. Worse, he kept seeing her with the child in her arms, couldn’t forget the sight of her dipping her head to comfort the little girl with a soft kiss.
What was the matter with him? She wasn’t his type at all, and he truly didn’t give two hoots if she got the job or not.
‘You’re quite right,’ he told Janet. ‘I’ll leave the selection of a receptionist in your capable hands.’
‘Thank you, Logan,’ Janet said dryly. As he turned to leave, she added, ‘But, while you’re here, can you take one of these personality tests to fill in? It’s part of my preparation for the next team-building workshop.’
‘Team-building? But that won’t involve me. I don’t have the time right now.’
Janet rose majestically and shook the stapled sheets of paper at him. ‘You promised your full support.’
‘But I didn’t… That doesn’t mean…’
‘It means you’ve signed up for the Blackcorp team-building workshop, Logan. You promised top down involvement in this one.’
Next morning the phone never seemed to stop ringing. Each time Sally heard its shrill summons, she thought it might be a call from Blackcorp and her stomach tied itself in anxious knots.
She tried to distract herself by entertaining Rose, who had stayed with her overnight while Anna slept on a folding bed at the hospital.
Warm sunlight filled the little paved courtyard that opened off the kitchen, so she took Rose out there and gave her a large cardboard carton to play with. Growing up in the Outback had taught her that the simplest playthings were often the best.
The baby had a delightful time crawling into the cardboard box and out again, then piling her teddy bear and stuffed rabbit into it and, of course, hauling them out once more.
Watching her, Sally gave a rueful shake of her head. ‘Why are you being so well behaved today, after what you did to me yesterday?’
Rose simply grinned and gurgled.
While the baby played, Sally went through the newspapers from the weekend, circling more jobs that she could apply for. Then she attacked the little garden that bordered the courtyard, pulling weeds and trimming overgrown shrubs, tying trailing vines of white star jasmine to a timber lattice.
Every time the phone rang, she had to dash, heart thumping, in through the open French windows to the kitchen, peeling off gardening gloves as she ran.
The first call was from Anna with an overnight report on Oliver, who was much better. Sally reassured her sister-in-law that Rose was fine and invited her to lunch, suggesting that she needed a break from the hospital and Anna accepted readily.
Two people phoned asking to speak to Chloe and Sally had to pass on the sad news of Chloe’s heart attack. Then there was a call from Sally’s mother, ringing long distance from Tarra-Binya to check that Sally was eating properly and not just buying those terrible take-aways that were on every street corner in the city.
Sally, who by this time had made a lovely Salade Niçoise for Anna’s lunch, assured her mother that she was not in danger of malnutrition just yet. But, as she replaced the receiver, she thought that she might be starving soon if she didn’t land a job.
Whenever she thought about yesterday’s interview, she cringed. In the cold light of another day, it was patently clear that she’d been too smart-mouthed. She’d been so determined that Logan Black mustn’t intimidate her, had needed to prove to herself that she was no longer afraid of hot-looking guys who were way too sexy for their T-shirts.
But she’d gone too far and she’d annoyed her potential boss and she’d shocked Janet Keaton. She should have remembered how vitally important it was to make a good first impression.
The problem was, she really wanted that job. She wanted, more than anything, to prove to her family that she was fine now, that she could stand on her own two feet and, in order to do that, she needed money. But her reasons for wanting the job went deeper than that, and they had nothing to do with a certain tall, dark and sternly handsome boss.
She’d seen Blackcorp’s sleek, modern front desk standing just inside the big glass sliding front doors and she’d visualised herself there, accepting important packages from the delivery man, relaying mail or visitors to various departments, getting to know all the employees and greeting them as they arrived at work each day.
She wanted that position so badly she couldn’t bring herself to follow up on any of the other advertisements she’d found. And that was silly. This afternoon, just as soon as she handed Rose back to Anna, she would have to resume her job-hunting in earnest.
Sally was enjoying lunch out in the courtyard with Anna and Rose when the phone rang again.
Her stomach tied itself into yet another knot as she darted inside and she was a little puffed when she picked up the phone. ‘Hello? Sally speaking.’
‘Hi, Sally. It’s Janet Keaton from Blackcorp.’
A blast of heat exploded in Sally’s chest, like a small bomb, sending flashes over her arms and up her neck.
‘Janet,’ she squeaked. Good grief, what was the matter with her? She’d never felt this nervous about anything. ‘How—how are you?’
‘Very well, thank you, Sally. And I have some good news.’
‘Y-you