days in a big country town and the computer course she’d completed on leaving school. She’d told Janet about her summer holiday jobs on the front desk of Chloe’s art gallery here in Sydney at Potts Point. And that led to Sally explaining about her godmother, Chloe Porter, a well-known figure in Sydney’s art circles, and about her legacy of the terrace house.
‘And you didn’t mind leaving the country to live in Sydney?’ Janet asked.
Sally almost blurted the truth that she’d had to leave, that she’d had to escape her family’s stifling concern, had to prove that she could manage on her own. But she doubted that would impress her interviewer.
‘I’ve always wanted to live here,’ she said emphatically, and this was also very true. ‘It’s been my dream. I spent nearly every summer holiday with Chloe and it was always so much fun. I love Sydney. It’s so cosmopolitan and exciting. I’m really looking forward to making my home here.’
‘A mining consultancy is very different from an art gallery,’ Janet said carefully. ‘What do you know about Blackcorp and the Australian mining industry?’
‘Well…’ Sally took a deep breath and thanked heavens that she’d looked at Blackcorp’s website on the Internet. ‘I know that Blackcorp’s a big operation right across Australia. Mining’s a huge industry and it’s bigger than ever right now. Actually, two of my brothers work in mines. One in Queensland and another in Western Australia.’
Janet nodded and waited for Sally to continue.
‘China’s Australia’s major market,’ she said. ‘And I guess a consultancy like this would be offering support services—accommodation on the mine sites, catering. And there are all kinds of environmental issues to be worked around.’
By then Sally had exhausted her knowledge and she thought she might have flunked, but Janet smiled encouragingly and gave her a questionnaire to answer.
‘This simply provides a profile of your personality type. There are no right or wrong answers. It will be useful if you join our staff and become involved in the team-building exercises I like to run.’
Team-building exercises definitely sounded like Sally’s cup of tea. She had loved that sort of thing at school.
‘Just choose the response that feels natural to you,’ Janet said.
Already smiling, Sally glanced at the first few questions on the quiz sheet.
You find it difficult to be the centre of attention. Yes? No?
You trust reason rather than emotions. Yes?
No?
You rarely get excited. Yes? No?
‘Oh, goodness!’ Janet’s sharp cry interrupted Sally’s concentration. ‘Where’s the little girl?’
One hasty glance at the abandoned toys in the corner and Sally’s stomach plummeted. The office door was ominously ajar and a quick look around the room revealed that Rose had disappeared.
Launched to her feet, she hurried outside with Janet close behind. The carpeted corridor was empty.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Sally said, feeling sick. ‘Rose has been so good. I forgot to keep my eye on her.’
Janet shook her head. ‘She can’t be far away. She couldn’t have got into the lift by herself, so she must still be somewhere on this floor. You try the offices on the right-hand side and I’ll take the left.’
‘Thank you.’ Sally realised she was shaking. How could she have forgotten about Rose? Poor Anna had trusted her. She shouldn’t have been so caught up with wanting this job. What kind of aunt lost her niece on the twenty-seventh floor of a skyscraper?
The first door on her right bore the brass-lettered sign: Accounts. Sally swallowed a knot of fear and stepped forward but, as she lifted her hand to knock, she saw, out of the corner of her eye, a tall dark shape at the end of the corridor.
She caught a flash of golden hair and she whirled about. Rose. In the arms of a man.
Oh, gosh. Not just any man.
This one looked formidable. One glance and Sally’s impulse to run forward, arms outstretched, a grateful smile on her lips, was stifled. Big-shouldered, long-legged, dark and frowning, he came towards her, striding down the corridor with Rose at arm’s length in front of him, as if the poor darling were a bag of extremely unpleasant garbage.
Janet, who had seen him too, let out a groan and Sally received the distinct impression that Rose couldn’t have chosen a more unsuitable saviour.
As the frowning man approached, Sally noticed details beyond his scowl and his athletic physique. He was undeniably handsome, but there was a steely edge to his looks that sent unwelcome shivers scampering through her. His hair was thick and dark and already, before noon, there were signs of a five o’clock shadow on his jaw. His eyes were dark too, and penetrating, even at twenty paces.
Memories threatened, but Sally forced them back. She was no longer afraid of every new man she met. Those days were behind her.
She smiled at this man in his expensively cut dark suit, crisp white business shirt and smart navy and silver striped tie. He had the air of a commander. Executive material, Sally supposed.
By comparison, Rose looked tiny and fragile. But so-o cute. And, thank heavens, completely unharmed.
The darling. Sally held out her arms and Rose was thrust immediately into her embrace. If she hadn’t had so much experience in receiving her brothers’ football passes, she might have dropped the poor child.
‘Thank you.’ She offered the frowning figure her warmest smile. ‘Thank you so much. I’m so grateful you found her. We were just about to start a search party.’
‘Was Rose in your office, Logan?’ Janet asked. ‘I can’t believe she got so far.’
‘I found her under my desk.’ He spoke without the faintest glimmer of warmth. ‘What on earth’s going on, Janet? You haven’t started a crèche here, have you?’
‘Oh, that’s my fault,’ Sally butted in quickly, anxious that Janet Keaton shouldn’t take any blame. ‘There was a family emergency at the last minute and I had to bring Rose with me,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry if she interrupted you.’
Janet added diplomatically, ‘At least Rose is too little to have done any harm.’
‘She disconnected my computer.’
‘Oh, Rose,’ Sally scolded softly.
To Janet he said, ‘I’ll need someone from IT up here straight away. I’ve lost an entire morning’s work.’
Now it was Sally’s turn to frown. ‘Surely you’d already saved most of it?’
‘Sally,’ Janet intervened in a strange little voice, ‘let me introduce Blackcorp’s Managing Director, Mr Logan Black.’
‘Oh.’
Managing Director. I’ve been acting the smart mouth with the head honcho. Good one, Sally.
Her confident smile slipped as she held out her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mr Black.’
‘This is Sally Finch, Logan. She’s one of our applicants for the front desk position.’
At least Logan Black was polite enough to shake Sally’s proffered hand firmly, but his right eyebrow lifted and he eyed her with faint contempt.
She might have told Mr Black how very keen she was to work for his company, but her recent gaffe and the curl of his lip, plus Janet Keaton’s warning frown, ensured that she remained prudently quiet.
Rose chose that moment to grumble and rub at her eyes. It was getting close to her nap time. Sally rocked her gently and kissed the top of her head and Rose pressed her sleepy head against Sally’s