Jennifer Faye

Miss White And The Seventh Heir


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felt indebted to him.

      Still, she had been hesitant about accepting the position. Who wanted to step up to the helm of a sinking magazine? However, the elder Rousseau had given her an incentive—a big financial incentive—to make this work. But it also came with a deadline—six months to show improvement and a firm plan for the next year.

      Now, sitting behind the managing editor’s desk, she wondered if she’d made a mistake. For the last four—almost five—months, she’d spent every waking moment trying to secure the future of the longstanding magazine. With not much more than sheer determination and a skeleton staff, she’d done the impossible—turned the magazine’s content one hundred and eighty degrees, from sensationalized headlines to meaningful interviews on important topics. The substantial changes were enough to create a bump in the bottom line. In fact, it impressed the board enough to approve a modest increase in funding. This was making it possible for Sage to at last hire a much-needed PA.

      She stared down at the next résumé on her desk. She’d put off hiring a PA as long as possible, not wanting to take funds away from more necessary areas. But with tasks piling up faster than she could tackle them, it was time to hire a very capable, multitasking assistant.

      The name on the rather lengthy résumé was Trey Renault. He would be the seventh man in a row that she had interviewed that day. She smiled and shook her head. This definitely wasn’t a coincidence.

      When she’d casually let it slip that her thirtieth birthday was in a few weeks, Louise, the head of human resources, declared that Sage should find a nice guy to settle down with. Sage tried to politely explain that settling down wasn’t on her to-do list. She had a lot of other things that needed her focus. A family would have to wait.

      She scrutinized each line of Trey Renault’s résumé. His education and references were impeccable. On paper, this man was impressive. But he lacked experience in publishing. Would he be a quick learner?

      Her phone buzzed. She answered and learned that the man in question had arrived. She glanced at the time on her desktop monitor and found that he wasn’t just five minutes early, he was a full ten minutes early. Oh, a man after her own heart. She told the receptionist to show him back to her office.

       Knock. Knock.

      Sage stood and smoothed her navy skirt down over her thighs. She then ran a hand over her hair, making sure the long dark strands weren’t out of place. She didn’t know why she was making such a fuss. It wasn’t like she was the one being interviewed.

      She came around her desk and opened the door. She had to crane her neck in order to smile up at him. From behind a pair of dark-rimmed glasses his dark gaze met hers, but she was unable to read anything in his eyes. A man of mystery. She was intrigued.

      She held out her hand. “Hello. My name’s Sage White.”

      The man’s large hand enveloped hers. His grip though firm was not too tight. “Bonjour. I am Trey, um...Renault.”

      A Frenchman. She had to admit, she found his accent sexy. He wasn’t so bad himself, in that tall, dark and handsome sort of way. His brown hair was trimmed short on the sides with the top a little longer and a bit wavy. His face was quite attractive, even if it was partially obscured by a full beard and mustache. She couldn’t help but wonder what he’d look like after a shave.

      “Welcome, Trey.” She stepped back to make room for him to enter her office. “Please come in.”

      His face didn’t betray any hint of emotion. Sage closed the door and then turned back to this man who intrigued her more than all the other applicants added together. His gaze moved swiftly around her office as though taking in his surroundings. She wanted to ask what he thought of what she’d done with the space, but she squelched the urge. They had other more urgent matters to discuss.

      Once he made his way across the room, he took a seat in one of the two black leather chairs facing her desk. Sage returned to her own chair. She didn’t know what it was about this man that had her so intrigued, but there was something different about him aside from the accent—yet there was something familiar, too.

      Sage smothered a sigh. She was letting her imagination get the best of her. Trey Renault was an applicant just like the other six bachelors who’d paraded through her office.

      The first man she’d interviewed wouldn’t so much as shake her hand. He went on to tell her about all of the germs in the world. With his knowledge of illnesses, she started to wonder if he should have gone to medical school and become a doctor.

      The second man yawned through the whole interview. She couldn’t tell if it was her that had bored him or if he hadn’t slept the night before. The third man had definitely woken up on the wrong side of the bed. The scowl on his face seemed to be permanent. He’d complained about everything including his previous employers. The fourth man couldn’t stop sneezing. She was beginning to wonder if he was allergic to her.

      Bachelor number five was a pleasant change with a nice smile and good attitude, but as the interview went on, she found he’d smile and agree with everything she said. Number six had great looks but it didn’t appear he had much going on upstairs.

      With the prestigious Cannes Film Festival quickly approaching, which was pivotal to the magazine’s future, she had no more time to interview applicants. The truth was they weren’t exactly breaking down her door. She had to pick the best of these applicants.

      And so far bachelor number seven appeared to be the front runner. Then she caught herself glancing down at his left hand. Yep, another bachelor. Louise had certainly done her homework.

      Sage jerked her gaze back up to his handsome face. His chin was squared and his nose straight. But it was his eyes that drew her in with their dark and mesmerizing depths. It’d be so easy to get lost in them. Just like she was doing now.

      She jerked her gaze away from him and back to the résumé on her desk. She stared blindly at the paper. With his good looks, he’d definitely make Monday mornings more bearable.

      Gathering her thoughts, she welcomed him again. She then started her well-practiced spiel about the highlights of the magazine and an overview of the position requirements. She couldn’t be swayed by his good looks. She had a board meeting at the end of the month that would determine her future. And from what she’d heard, her former boss’s estranged son had assumed the position of CEO and he’d made it his mission to put the magazine out of business.

      Most people didn’t even know this son existed. She’d done an internet search and hadn’t been able to come up with even a photo of the mysterious son. In this day and age of social media how was that possible?

      * * *

      His mission was to uncover the truth.

      Quentin Thomas Rousseau III had persuaded most of the QTR board to do away with his father’s beloved magazine. However, his father’s last act as CEO had been to install a new managing editor. And somehow this woman—a woman with a questionable past—was turning things around for the business. She was reopening doors with vendors that had previously turned their backs on QTR Magazine. She’d eliminated the red ink, and if business kept increasing, she’d soon turn a sizable profit. But how? And why save this sinking ship?

      Knowing his father had many connections and lots of money to sway people, the only person Quentin could trust to uncover the truth was himself. However, he couldn’t just burst through the doors of QTR Magazine, announce that he was the new CEO and expect people to open up to him. It meant he’d have to take extraordinary measures.

      And then it’d come to his attention that the new managing editor was in need of a personal assistant. That was the moment he’d started plotting his fact-finding mission. It was nothing too far out there. After all, there was a reality show about bosses going undercover in their own companies. Why couldn’t he do the same thing?

      And finally, he needed an alias. He decided to use the name he’d gained in boarding school. His friends thought his real name, Quentin Thomas