Fired by Her Fling Page 7

  He had no idea, but clearly she had.

  And now it seemed he needed her in order to stop his father’s pet project from crashing down around his ears. He had to find her and make things right.

  He’d never been the type of man to run away from a mistake he’d made and he wasn’t about to change that now.

  Sighing, he ran a hand over his tired eyes.

  Judging by the death stare Tallulah had given him on departing this morning, he suspected he was going to have his work cut out convincing her to come back.

  * * *

  Lula had finished all the ice cream, plus all the chocolate she had stashed in hiding places around the apartment and was just contemplating putting on a pair of sunglasses and her baseball cap to visit the local convenience store for more restorative refined sugar products when the buzzer went.

  She sat stock-still on the sofa, hoping whoever it was would go away.

  The buzzer went again, this time for longer, as if the person on the other side of her door knew she was holed up in there and was determined to speak to her.

  Surely Emily wouldn’t have walked out on her filming early to come over and watch TV when she’d made it clear she needed space right now.

  No, Em knew her better than that.

  So that meant it was someone else. Someone from work perhaps, come to commiserate with her?

  Sighing, she levered herself off the sofa and went to check her appearance in the mirror.

  She didn’t look good. Her face was puffy after her crying fit and her eyes looked dull and small. Whoever it was would get a real shock when she opened the door to them. Hopefully, her wild appearance would frighten them off so she could go back to her day of mooching and pity eating. She was only giving herself today to get it out of her system though, then she was bouncing back up and moving on. Just like she always did.

  The buzzer went again, making her jump. Stumbling over to the door, she yanked it open and stared at the person waiting impatiently on the other side.

  It took her a moment to fully comprehend who the tall, fit-looking man filling her doorway was and her stomach did a double somersault as his handsome face registered in her brain.

  Tristan.

  Inappropriate pleasure at seeing him again mixed with a blood-boiling indignation that he would have the gall to bother her at home after the way he’d treated her today. Pulling back her shoulders and tipping up her chin, she fixed him with a contemptuous stare.

  His gaze dropped from her face to her feet and he tipped an eyebrow. ‘You’re not wearing your heels.’

  She screwed up her face in confusion at the conversational curve ball. ‘Of course not—I was relaxing on the sofa.’ If you could call being curled up in a foetal position, clutching a soggy tissue relaxed, that was.

  She instinctively lifted up onto her toes to try and give the impression of more height and power than she suspected she was projecting right at that moment.

  The twitch of a grin at the corner of Tristan’s mouth was the straw that broke her temper.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here? Not come to accuse me of more dastardly deeds, have you? Because if you have you can bugger off and go stick your head right up—’

  He cut off her ranting by taking a step forwards and holding up a placating palm.

  ‘No. It seems I was a little too quick to judge the situation at Flash. Like you, I was a bit...er...tired this morning and it may have had an detrimental effect on my decision-making.’

  Lula stared at him agog. ‘I’m sorry—did I hear you right?’ She shook her head and blinked hard, feigning the impression she must have misheard him. ‘It sounded suspiciously like you were admitting you were wrong to fire me.’

  ‘I think I may have made a mistake, yes, and I regret it.’

  It looked as though it was causing him actual physical pain to admit he was in the wrong. Well, good.

  She should drag this out, as revenge for his harsh treatment of her that morning.

  ‘That constitutes an apology in Tristan World, does it?’ she said coolly.

  He frowned. ‘Look, can I come in so we can discuss this?’ he said, bracing one arm against the door jamb and dipping his head in a conciliatory manner.

  Her body went up in flames as his wonderful scent hit her nostrils, bringing back memories of the enthralling feeling of his hard body beneath her only the night before.

  Damn him for being such a low-down, dirty sex god.

  She gave him a scrutinising look, playing for time while she attempted to get her head together. The thought of letting him into her sanctuary made her nervous. She was acutely aware of how bedraggled she looked—not to mention diminutive without her heels on—and she didn’t want to give him the upper hand by feeling self-conscious about her appearance as well as the questionable state of her living room. There were sodden tissues and chocolate wrappers littering the coffee table and a line of underwear drying on the radiator behind the sofa. It didn’t exactly shout, You have no power over me. I’m moving onwards and upwards.

  ‘I’d rather do it here, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to be accused of luring you in here to take advantage of you again.’

  He let out a snort, but quickly reined in his mirth.

  ‘Okay, Tallulah, fair enough.’

  ‘So what prompted this revelation?’ she asked, folding her arms in front of her ancient, faded T-shirt, hoping he hadn’t noticed the adolescent boy band motif on the front.

  Tristan frowned and rubbed a hand over his jaw, his fingers making a faint rasping sound against the beginnings of his stubble. His gaze flicked around her hallway before snapping back to her. He suddenly looked very tired and for a second she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

  He huffed out a breath. ‘It seems Jez has been misappropriating money from the station and, after talking with some of the other staff, it appears you were right about him taking certain other liberties with his position as well.’

  Lula stared at him, dumbfounded. ‘Really? God. So you fired him?’ she asked hopefully. It would serve the idiot right if he’d been booted too.

  ‘Yes. He’s gone and I’m stepping in to manage the station until I can find a suitable replacement.’ He bit down on his lip as if he was keying himself up to add something else.

  Lula’s gaze was drawn to his mouth as he uttered the next words.

  ‘We need you back at Flash. Now Jez has gone I can offer you the Breakfast Show slot. Apparently you’re the best and most experienced presenter at the station and the general consensus is that it should go to you.’

  Her mouth tingled, like sherbet fizzing on her tongue, as she thought about kissing that full mouth of his with joy at the news. Now the ball was in her court she could probably do whatever she wanted to him and he’d have to put up with it if he wanted her back. And he evidently did, considering he’d come all the way over here after hours with his tail between his legs to talk to her.

  Of course he needed someone with her experience to take over the Breakfast Show. It would be virtually impossible to find someone else with the skills needed to step in at such short notice and do a good job.

  He needed her.

  She had a flash of memory about how empowering it had felt to call the shots with him last night and wondered whether she could bring herself to do it again. To get her own back on him for his unfair treatment of her today.

  The memory of Tristan’s cold expression when he’d fired her sprang into her mind again and the decision was made. She’d be lax if she didn’t make him work at least a little bit hard for her forgiveness. She was sick of putting up with men pushing her around and taking her good nature for granted.

  ‘So what are you offering me?’ she asked, tipping up her chin.

  He frowned, appearing confused. ‘I’m
offering you your job back and the opportunity to take over the Breakfast Show, which I know you’ve been interested in for quite some time.’

  ‘Yes, I got that. I mean what sort of wage hike are you offering? How far are you going to extend my contract on the show to make sure I’m allowed a good run at it? Perks, that kind of thing.’

  He stared at her, the surprise clear in his eyes. Apparently he thought he could waltz over here, toss her the offer of the Breakfast Show and she’d fall on her knees in gratitude.

  Well, you can think again, Mister.

  Even though she wanted that show with a passion, she needed to go back to the station feeling as though she had some power in her new position and wouldn’t just be ousted by a new Station Manager the moment Tristan slunk off back to Edinburgh.

  He closed his eyes and laughed to himself, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he’d got himself into here. Of course, he’d only meant to come over for the day to dish out his father’s orders and he’d somehow found himself with a mutiny on his hands.

  That would teach him to get involved in other people’s affairs.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, running a hand over his, by now, rather rumpled hair. ‘You can have a ten per cent wage increase to reflect your importance to the station and we’ll give you a year-long contract to show our commitment to you.’

  She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything.

  Tristan cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes. ‘Okay, playing hardball, huh? A two-year contract and fifteen per cent wage hike.’

  ‘I’d expect nothing less than a three-year contract and twenty per cent,’ she said levelly, digging her nails into her palms under her crossed arms to force herself to stand tough.

  There was a long pause while Tristan digested her demands, his pragmatic gaze raking her face.

  Finally, he nodded, drawing himself up to his full height as he pushed himself away from the doorframe and stood back.

  A bubble of glee rose from deep inside her, making her skin tingle all over. She’d bloody well done it. She’d beaten him into submission.

  Despite the urge to blurt out her acceptance of his terms and get straight down to the time-consuming business of planning the show for the morning, she made herself take a breath and a mental step away. After all, she’d had a tough day and shouldn’t jump into anything without giving it some proper consideration first.

  It occurred to her too that he hadn’t apologised for accusing her of sleeping with him to sway his decisions.

  She needed to hold her nerve for a bit longer to totally pay him back and restore her pride.

  He was looking at her confidently, waiting for her agreement, his expression more relaxed now he seemed to think he’d sorted out the mess he’d made.

  Flipping him as assertive a smile as she could muster, she put her hand on the door and straightened her posture, hoping he wouldn’t notice how much she was trembling.

  ‘Thanks for coming over. I have another job offer on the table, so I’ll think about yours and let you know my decision soon.’

  He looked at her as if she’d just spoken complete gibberish. ‘But I need you at work tomorrow.’

  She smiled sweetly. ‘Sorry, I have plans tomorrow. But I’ll get back to you in the next day or two.’

  He opened and closed his mouth, apparently lost for words.

  ‘Bye, Tristan.’ She swung the door shut in his face, hearing it close with a satisfying click.

  FIVE

  Tristan had never been so stressed in his life.

  It had taken him the rest of the evening to find someone willing to step in to present the Breakfast Show on such short notice. Darla, the woman who had taken over Tallulah’s old Drivetime Show, point-blank refused to help him out because of the way he’d treated Jez ‘so appallingly’ and the rest of the presenters seemed unwilling to help because he’d fired Tallulah.

  Added to that, he’d spent the night tossing and turning in his hotel bed as flashes of her face kept springing into his head. She knew exactly the trouble she was causing him—he’d seen the mischief in her eyes as she’d swung the door shut in his face.

  Admittedly, he’d been floored when she’d refused to take his more than generous offer right away, but after chewing on it for a while he wondered whether he’d actually deserved the rejection. In his rush to get past his frustration about the night he’d spent with her, he’d not done his job properly and let his emotions get in the way of common sense.

  He should have tried to smooth things over with her first.

  Clearly this problem wasn’t going to be resolved with cold hard cash like most things he came across in his life either. Judging by the fact she lived in a large, swanky apartment in central London perhaps money wasn’t her driving force. Maybe she had wealthy parents or a large inheritance behind her? Her wage from the radio station certainly wouldn’t have covered a mortgage, or even the rent, on a place like that.

  Whatever it was that drove her, she’d certainly got his attention.

  Unsurprisingly, the Breakfast Show was a total chaos of missed cues and fumbled links and the poor guy who he’d pulled from the sleepy graveyard shift to take over let Tristan know in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t prepared to do it again the following day.

  There had been a fair number of complaints from the listeners too.

  If Tristan weren’t careful, the advertisers—who kept the station running with their regular imbursements—would start making a fuss and then they’d be in real trouble.

  Unfortunately, his father wasn’t contactable for another month as he and his new yoga-obsessed wife had decided to shroud themselves in solitude in the middle of Asia to ‘become one with the earth’ so it was totally down to Tristan to handle things here.

  He’d already arranged for Andrew, his second-in-command at the company he ran from Edinburgh, to carry on caretaking in his place whilst he was down here in London so he could concentrate fully on getting the station back up and running with a new manager.

  Right now, his main priority was to get Tallulah to agree to return tomorrow. He suspected he’d need to be creative about how he went about it too, because, without a doubt, she was holding off on giving him an answer to pay him back for firing her in the first place.

  And perhaps for his less than objective suggestion that she’d only slept with him to gain a competitive edge. Hot embarrassment trickled through him as he remembered the accusations he’d made in the heat of the moment.

  It hadn’t been his finest hour.

  He had to have imagined all her slightly odd behaviour when they first met, retrofitting it afterwards into his conviction that she’d been playing him for a fool, when maybe it had been something else? But what?

  Not that he should be worrying about that at the moment. He needed to focus on the job in hand.

  He sat for a few minutes staring into space as he considered the best way to get her attention.

  Lightning finally struck.

  He smiled, an unexpected feeling of excitement rising from deep within his chest. She liked playing games? Well, okay then, he was going to present her with the best brain-teaser of her life.

  * * *

  Tallulah slept in late and woke to find bright sunlight streaming in through the chinks in her curtains.

  After all the tension of the previous day, it was absolute bliss to lie there for a while and not have to spring out of bed to get ready for her shift at work.

  Not that she could hold off from giving Tristan an answer for long. She knew she couldn’t push him too hard, or he’d soon find someone else to step in and snap up her contract. The benefits of having experience on the show and a good track record at the station would only give her the edge over a newcomer for so long.

  Still, it had b
een satisfying to see the comical stunned expression on his face when she’d shut the door on him. It had more than made up for the cold look of disapproval she’d last experienced on that handsome face of his.

  Unbidden memories from their night together swam through her head as she thought about him, leaving a warm afterglow in the most intimate of places. She wriggled around in frustration, clamping her thighs together to quell the sensation. The very last thing she should be doing was lusting after Tristan again. Look what kind of mess she’d got herself into when she’d last given in to that impulse.

  No. Sadly, that had to have been the one and only time there was any intimacy between them. The man was a shark.

  Her reflections were interrupted by the sound of the buzzer.

  Hauling herself out of bed and wrapping up in her large towelling robe, she raced to the door, half wondering in a nervy excited way whether it would be Tristan again. The Breakfast Show couldn’t have been a roaring success with no one at the station with experience in hosting it to take over at such short notice. Perhaps he’d come to camp out on her doorstep until she agreed to come back? Her heart did a loop-the-loop as she pictured stepping over Tristan’s gorgeous prostrate body on her way out for milk.

  Hmm, she quite liked the idea of that.

  It was a flower delivery. The bouquet was so large she could hardly see the delivery person behind it. After accepting it with an excited squeak, she carried it into the living room and set it on the coffee table, brushing aside the debris from the day before to make room for it. As she looked at it more carefully, she realised there were jigsaw pieces with words written on them spiked on sticks and dotted in amongst the flowers.

  After rummaging through the whole bouquet and finding sixteen different pieces, she made room on the table so she could fit them together and make up the handwritten note. Once she’d completed it she stared in amusement at the words spelled out in front of her:

  Since you’ve been gone, things around here have fallen to pieces...