The Boss's Bedroom Agenda. Nicola Marsh
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realise she’d made a mistake.
She should be focussing on getting up to scratch in here, not indulging her passion for retail therapy. This job was too important and she’d already made a less than favourable impression with her lateness.
Sighing, she shook her head and headed for the first display. This business of being a good, sensible, dedicated tour guide was going to be a lot harder than she’d thought.
Aidan sat back in his oversized leather chair and stared out of the wide window at the Royal Exhibition Building framed by a cloudless blue sky.
He loved the old building, had loved this view the first moment he’d entered his dad’s office as a cocky archaeological student determined to take on the world. Or, more correctly, travel the world in search of the ancient relics that made his pulse pound with excitement and always had since he’d accompanied his parents on his first dig as an inquisitive five-year-old.
He’d never forgotten the feel of hot sand beneath his hands as he’d dug alongside them with a miniature spade, the heat of an unforgiving Egyptian sun beating down as he’d scrabbled harder and harder until he’d found the small mummy figurine his father had assured him was there.
It wasn’t till years later he’d realised his dad had planted it there for him to find, but by then he’d chosen his path. He’d wanted to be an archaeologist, the best in the business. His dad might have chosen a desk job despite being the top historian in Australia, but he’d wanted more, had craved more.
Rather ironic, considering he now sat in his dad’s vacated chair, the last place he wanted to be.
Grabbing the phone, he punched number one on speed dial, knowing his dad would berate him for interrupting his siesta, remembering times gone by when the indefatigable Abe Voss would’ve been out and about at this time of the morning, prime exploratory time before the scorching outback sun sent even the hardiest explorer scurrying for shade.
‘Abraham Voss speaking.’
Abe’s clipped tones elicited a wry grin. Aidan had never known the old man to answer the phone any other way, especially when he had more important things to do with his time.
‘Hey, Dad, it’s me.’
‘What’s up?’
Aidan stiffened, Abe’s gruff, brisk tone the same abrasive way he’d spoken to him all his life, as if he were an interruption to be tolerated.
No niceties, no normal exchange of pleasantries. But then, what did he expect—for him to change just because he was doing the old man a favour?
Swallowing his annoyance, he swivelled his chair away from the view and picked up Beth Walker’s résumé.
‘I met the new tour guide this morning. She’s not what I expected.’
‘She’s something else, isn’t she? I knew she’d be perfect for the job.’
‘Something else’ was right. The minute he’d laid eyes on Beth Walker he’d known she was perfect—though, inappropriately, work had been the furthest thing from his mind.
Frowning, he tapped her résumé against the desk. ‘Her credentials aren’t super impressive. Tour guide at Flemington during the Spring Racing Carnival and at the Melbourne Grand Prix isn’t exactly the same as here, is it?’
‘Are you questioning my judgement?’
Hell, yeah.
But he wouldn’t push it. The only reason he was sitting in this chair was because his father had asked him to, had made the first overture in his life to acknowledge his skills, and he wasn’t about to sabotage the tentative professional mateship they’d developed lately.
‘Guess her demeanour threw me a little.’
‘Why? Because she’s a tad on the exuberant side?’ Abe snorted, an exasperated sound that told him exactly what he thought of this phone call. ‘Look, Lana Walker will be a huge credit to the museum. She’s the best curator on the eastern seaboard and I trusted her judgement when she recommended her cousin. Then I interviewed Beth and she’s exactly the type of employee we need. Fresh, vibrant, willing to learn. So what’s the problem?’
‘No problem.’
Not unless he counted the awful sinking feeling he was attracted to her when he shouldn’t be.
CEOs shouldn’t fraternise with staff, even ones with sparkling eyes, cheeky smiles, flamboyant suits and come-get- me shoes.
‘If that’s all, I have to go. Your mother has me on this crazy exercise regimen.’
Aidan paused, knowing Abe hated talking about his health, well aware he’d irritated the old man enough for one day with his interrogation about Beth.
‘How’s the heart?’
‘Fine. Blood pressure’s down. No angina since we came up here.’
‘Great—’
‘Must go. I’ll call you next week to check up on how the place is doing.’
The dial tone hummed in his ear before he’d had a chance to say goodbye and Aidan snapped his mobile shut, the familiar disappointment clawing at him.
The old man would never change and he’d be a fool to hope otherwise. Yet when Abe had been advised by the docs to rest up or risk a heart attack and he’d made the decision to head for the tropics of Queensland for a little R & R, he’d turned straight to his son.
Aidan hadn’t been able to refuse, buoyed by the uncharacteristic action of a man who’d barely acknowledged his achievements growing up, a small part of him still hoping for the unthinkable to happen, that dear old Dad would finally recognise his worth.
So here he was, trying to prove a point, aiming to be the best damn CEO the museum had ever seen even if it was only for a few months.
He’d made that more than clear. There was no way he’d give up his passion for the digs.
He’d made that mistake once before.
Never again.
Being the best CEO meant keeping a close eye on employees… Scanning Beth’s résumé again, he shook his head.
His gut instinct had served him well in the past, giving him a feel for the best sites to search, directing him where to dig.
Maybe in this case his instincts were wrong?
However, the more he read of Beth’s résumé and her apparent lack of skills, and compared it with the mental image he had of the feisty tour guide, the more he had the feeling she wasn’t the right person for the job.
But he believed in giving people a fair go so that was exactly what he’d do here. However, if the cutesy tour guide made one too many mistakes… He shoved her résumé back into its folder and stood up.
He wanted this place running up to speed and the only way to ensure that was to do spot checks on his staff.
Starting with one highly unusual tour guide.
CHAPTER THREE
‘SO HOW did it go?’
Beth took a long, drawn-out sip of her mocha-mint iced latte and smacked her lips, trying to hide a grin at Lana’s anxious expression and failing.
‘This isn’t funny, Beth. I’m in agony over here and I’m not just talking about my ankle!’
‘Okay, okay, hang on to your crutches.’
She drained the rest of her favourite drink, placed the takeout cup on the coffee table and stretched. ‘There isn’t much to tell. My first day was uneventful and glitch-free.’
Well, almost, if she didn’t count her run-in with the charismatic Aidan Voss first