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Logan is trying to ignore the fun and laughter Sally brings to the office. Yet when he's roped into attending a charity ball, it's bubbly Sally who helps him brush up on his dance steps!
She's waltzed into his life, and Logan knows he should walk away but he can't. It takes two to tango—who will make the first move?
So much depended on today's job interview. If she didn't start earning soon, she wouldn't be able to stay in this gorgeous old house that she'd loved since she was six years old. She couldn't start her new life as an independent woman in the city. Bottom line, she couldn't eat!
But as Sally studied the results of this morning's careful grooming, she was swamped by doubts—niggling at first, but growing stronger with every twist and turn in front of the mirror.
Until this moment, she'd been confident that she knew exactly how to dress for a big city interview, but the mirror posed an uncomfortable question. Shouldn't she, at the very least, be able to recognise her own reflection?
What had gone wrong?
She'd woken early in a fever of confident excitement, had sung in the shower, eaten a super-healthy breakfast of fresh fruit and yoghurt in Chloe's cheerful, sun-filled kitchen—she still thought of this house as her godmother's—and then she'd raced upstairs to her bedroom.
The new and too expensive navy-blue dress fitted like a dream. Made from fine merino wool, with a high neckline and a neat white collar, it fell in straight, slim lines to a softly flared hemline. Its simplicity and neatness, Sally fervently hoped, signalled the very essence of efficiency.
Intent on completing her efficient image, she'd carefully brushed and crammed every wayward wisp of her blonde curling hair under hairpins and into a tight knot at the back of her head.
And then she'd stepped back to appraise the results and saw, with a chilling certainty, that she looked as grim and forbidding as her unforgettable third grade teacher.
How had this happened? The neck to knee navy had looked flattering in the shop. 'Fabulous' was the word the shop assistant had used.
Now the dress made Sally look too thin.
Admittedly, she had always been on the light side. Her older brothers had teased her about it when she was a skinny kid and she hadn't given two hoots. Dressed in their hand-me-down jeans, sensible cotton shirts and sturdy riding boots, she'd simply been one of the gang, riding horses or quad bikes all over her family's Outback property at Tarra-Binya.
Today, however, at the age of twenty-three and on the brink of life as a city woman, Sally would have loved to show more of her womanly curves.
She wondered what Chloe would have thought of this outfit. Her godmother had had a brilliant sense of style, and an even greater capacity for living life to the full. She'd been sensitive and warm-hearted too and had always said exactly the right thing to make Sally feel good about herself.
That she wasn't here to help Sally phase into city life was almost too much to bear.
Blinking back tears she couldn't afford on such an important morning, Sally tipped her head from side to side and swiftly switched her attention to her hair. Perhaps that was an even bigger problem than the dress. She'd overdone the efficient image.
After all, her interview at Blackcorp Mining Consultancies was for a front desk job and, if she got it, she would be meeting people all day long. And, although the Human Resources manager at Blackcorp would require efficiency in a receptionist, she would be expecting friendliness too.
Friendliness was Sally's forte. She loved people and loved to chat, had always hoped for a job that involved plenty of talking. But now, as she practised smiling into the mirror, forced a sparkle into her eyes and gave a cheerful flash of her white teeth, she still looked like the Wicked Witch of the West.
That hair knot has to go.
Frantically, she began to rip out hairpins. She didn't really have time to start rearranging her appearance, but she couldn't face her appointment looking like this.
Pins scattered left and right, hitting the glass tray, the polished timber dressing table, the carpeted floor. Sally paid little heed to them as blonde curls bobbed up, like coiled springs, happy to be free again.
The front doorbell rang.
No.
Not now! Who on earth would be calling at eight o'clock on a Monday morning? She was only halfway through the rescue attempt on her hair.
Unwilling to waste precious time by going all the way downstairs to the door, Sally dashed to the bedroom window, conveniently poised above the front steps. With a flick of the curtain, she could identify her caller.
Anna!'
Her sister-in-law was almost jogging on the top step, balancing her young daughter, Rose, on her hip while she pressed the doorbell again.
'I'm up here,' Sally called.
Anna Finch looked up, her face chalk-white and terrified. Sally's first thought was that something had happened to Steve, her brother, who worked on an oil rig off the Western Australian coast.
Without another word, she left the window and flew down the stairs, her hair problems instantly dismissed.
Anna,' she cried as she flung the front door open and encountered a heart-stopping close up view of her sister-in-law's pale cheeks and fearful, worried eyes. 'What is it? What's the matter? Is it Steve?'
'No, Steve's fine. It's Oliver. He's having a terrible asthma attack.'
It was only then that Sally saw Anna's blue car parked at the gate and her three-year-old nephew's sad face peering anxiously out at them. Poor little Oliver looked pale and sunken and, even from this distance, Sally could sense that he was struggling to breathe.
'I rang the doctor's surgery and they told me to take him straight to the hospital,' Anna said.
'The poor darling. How can I help?'
'I was hoping you could mind Rose.'As she said this, Anna thrust her chubby young daughter into Sally's arms. 'Oliver's so frightened and I'm almost as terrified as he is.'
Sally could believe that. Anna was often in a state of high anxiety, one of those mothers who were perpetually worried. And this time she had a real emergency on her hands.
'I don't think I could manage at the hospital if I had Rose with me as well,' she said.
Sally nearly said, I have my interview this morning, but she bit it back. Anna had enough on her plate.
'I knew you wouldn't mind.' Without checking Sally's response, Anna slipped the strap of a large crimson vinyl bag from her shoulder and set it on the doorstep. 'Everything Rose needs should be in here.'
'Right.' Sally looked at the fifteen-month-old toddler in her arms—all golden hair and sunshiny smiles—and her heart sank. What on earth could she do with Rose while she went to the interview? She was already in danger of running late. And her hopes were pinned on scoring this job. Already, an alarming number of bills had landed in her letter box.
'You're wonderful, Sal,' Anna said. 'It's so great having you close by now.' At the bottom of the steps, she seemed to remember something. 'What on earth have you done to your hair?'
'Oh.' Sally knew she must look a fright with one half of her hair still in pins. She shrugged and a hysterical little laugh escaped her. 'It's—it's an experiment. I was trying a new look.'
With an unflattering roll of her eyes and a shake of her head, Anna raced back to her car.
Logan Black sat in his office, which was perched like an eagle's eyrie high above Sydney's glittering blue harbour, and spoke smoothly into the phone. 'I'm sorry to disappoint you, Charles, but I couldn't consider that proposal without—'
Logan stopped in mid-sentence. He wasn't easily distracted from a business conversation, but he could have sworn he'd heard a giggle coming from beneath his desk.
But that was impossible.
Ridiculous.
As I was saying, I—' He paused again. This time he'd felt a distinct tug on the lace of his right shoe.
What the devil?
Swivelling in his leather executive chair, he peered into the shadowy depths beneath his enormous cherry wood desk and almost dropped the phone.
A very small child grinned cheekily up at him—a little girl, if Logan guessed correctly—not much more than a baby really. Her face was distinctly impish and she was clutching Logan's shoelace in her tiny pink fist.
Logan cursed and then blustered, 'How did you get in here?'
'What's that? What are you talking about?' The CEO of Australia's biggest mining company was suddenly confused and impatient on the other end of the line.
'Ah—one moment, Charles.' Logan stared down at the tiny intruder. How had a baby materialised in his office? In his office—the inner sanctum of the Managing Director of Blackcorp Mining Consultancies? It didn't make sense. The occasional attractive woman might have found her way in here unannounced, but that was another matter entirely.
Surely it was impossible for any trespasser to enter here without being seen. Had the child crawled? Or was she simply so small she'd been out of eye range? Below the radar, so to speak.
With his hand over the receiver, Logan pressed the button connecting him to his PA's desk and, at the same time, he barked, 'Maria!'
To his dismay, there was no reply from outside and no reassuring female figure appeared at the doorway. To make matters worse, the little trespasser had abandoned Logan's shoelaces and seemed intent on climbing his leg, clasping at the fine wool of his expensive trousers with distinctly sticky paws.
'Down!' Logan ordered in much the same voice he might have used to scold a wilful puppy.
'Logan, what the hell's going on?' Charles Holmes's voice thundered into the phone.
'I'm sorry, Charles.' Eyeing the toddler with an emotion approaching horror, Logan cleared his throat. Where was Maria? 'Something's—er—come up. An emergency. I'll have to call you back. I'll email through my suggestions for the changes and then we'll take another look at your proposal.'
As he hung up, Logan scowled at the small person now trying to straddle his knee. Her eyes were dark brown and enormous, like a puppy's, her hair super-fine and shiny gold, her skin soft and pink.
She looked deceptively angelic, smelled of shampoo and was dressed neatly in a pink dress embroidered with duc...
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3.0 out of 5 stars
Not bad.,
This review is from: Blind Date With The Boss (Harlequin Romance) (Mass Market Paperback)
As a kid Logan Black learned that men who led with their hearts rather than their heads brought humiliation and hardship on the people they loved. Since then Logan has disciplined himself to put all his focus into studying, making five-year plans, and business. As a result, Logan Black is Managing Director of Blackcorp Mining Consultancies. By the end of his next five-year plan his company would be secure enough for him to relax just a bit. Perhaps then he could consider looking for a wife and someday have his own family. One like his sister's.Sally Finch grew up as a country girl in Tarr-Binya. When she inherited her grandmother's house, Sally left the Australian country behind and moved to Sydney. She lands the front desk position at Blackcorp and is happy with her new job. Her boss, Logan Black, is a tad too stiff and a bit intimidating. When she finds herself teaching him to waltz, Sally gets a glimpse at the softness hidden beneath all the discipline. *** This romance set with the hauntingly lovely background of Sydney, Australia. The characters are well done, but the backgrounds are not as well developed as I would have liked. I never came to actually care for the characters. I believe readers will find this story to be good for relaxing on a beach or while vacationing in the mountains. Pure and simple romance. *** Reviewed by Detra Fitch of Huntress Reviews.
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