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“Hello, Ms. Taylor, I’m Henry Devonshire.”
“Hello, Mr. Devonshire. I’m happy to make your acquaintance.”
Henry held his hand out to her and she shook it. He had big blunt hands with neatly trimmed square nails. His square-jawed face sported a nose that looked as though it may have been broken more than once. Only fitting since he’d been a first-class rugby player until an injury sidelined him. He was still lean and athletic looking.
“I need you in my office in five minutes,” he told her. “Bring everything you have on Everest Group Records. Financials, groups we have signed, groups we should drop.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Devonshire,” she said.
He paused on the threshold before entering his inner office and smiled at her. “Call me Henry.”
She nodded. Dang it, he had a perfect smile. The kind that left her feeling utterly gob smacked. Which was ridiculous. She’d read the reports in the tabloids and gossip magazines—he was a player. One with a different girl every night, she reminded herself.
“Please, call me Astrid,” she said.
He nodded. “Have you been working here long?”
“Only a week. I was hired to work specifically with you.”
“Good, then you won’t be torn about who is in charge,” he said.
“No, sir, you’re the boss,” she quipped.
“Indeed I am.”
She started pulling together the reports he’d asked for. Since her career-ending affair at her last place of employment, she’d made a promise to herself to be utterly professional this time. She had always liked men and, to be honest, knew she flirted more than she should, but it was her way.
She watched him walk away. Flirting in the office was a bad idea, but he was charming. It wasn’t as if Henry Devonshire was going to make a real pass at her. His social circles contained supermodels. But she’d always had a weakness for blue eyes and a charming smile. It didn’t hurt matters that she’d had a little crush on Henry Devonshire when he’d been introduced as the starting flanker for the London Irish ten years ago.
So she was ready for Henry’s requests. She had everything in a folder on her desktop and printed off the information for him. She also copied the file onto their shared server.
Her phone rang. Glancing down at the multiline unit, she saw that Henry was still on his extension.
“Everest Records, Henry Devonshire’s office,” Astrid said.
“We need to talk.”
It was her old boss and former lover, Daniel Martin. Daniel was a bit like Simon Cowell, a record executive who turned everything he touched to gold. But when the gold lost its luster, Daniel moved on. Something Astrid had experienced firsthand.
“I don’t think we have anything left to say.” The last thing she wanted was to talk to Daniel.
“Henry Devonshire might feel differently. Meet me downstairs in that park area between City Hall and Tower Bridge in ten minutes.”
“I can’t. My boss needs me.”
“He won’t be your boss for long if you don’t speak to me. I think we both know that. I’m not asking for too much of your time, just a few minutes.”
“Fine,” Astrid said, aware that Daniel could ruin her chances at Everest records with just a vaguely worded comment about her past job performance.
She wasn’t sure exactly what Daniel wanted—their relationship had ended so badly. Maybe he wanted to make amends now that she was back in the music industry. At least she could hope.
She sent Henry an instant message telling him she’d be right back and set her phones to go to voice mail. Five minutes later she was walking through the green area on the banks of the Thames. Lots of office workers were sitting outside on the smoke breaks.
Astrid hurried past them looking for Daniel. She saw his honey-blond hair first. The weather was cloudy and wet today and a little chilly, and Daniel was wearing his favorite Ralph Lauren trench coat with the collar turned up.
Despite the fact that she was over him, she couldn’t help but notice that he looked good. Women were watching him, and Astrid saw the disappointment on more than one girl’s face when he turned toward her. In the past she’d relished the envious stares of other women. Now she knew that they had nothing to be envious of. With Daniel Martin the charm was only surface deep.
“Astrid.”
“Hi, Daniel. I don’t have a lot of time. What did you want to see me about?”
“What do you think you are doing working for Everest Records?”
“They hired me. I needed a job since I’m not independently wealthy,” Astrid said.
“Don’t be glib.”
“I’m not trying to be. What are you really attempting to say?”
“That if you poach any of my clients…I will ruin you.”
She shook her head. How could not know her at all? “I’d never do that. I’m not trying to get ahead by using someone else.”
“Just be warned. If you come anywhere near my clients, I will call Henry Devonshire and tell him everything that the tabloids didn’t uncover about our affair.”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away from her. She just watched him leave, wondering how in the world she was going to protect herself from Daniel.
Hurrying back to the Everest Group skyscraper, she took the elevator up to her floor, not talking to anyone along the way.
She stopped in the doorway leading to Henry’s office. “May I come in?”
He was on the phone, so gestured for her to enter. She came in and placed the files he’d asked for on the corner of his desk.
“That sounds good. I’ll be there tonight at nine,” Henry said. “Two. There will be two of us.”
He hung up the phone and looked up at her. “Have a seat, Astrid.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you for the material you prepared. Before we dive into work, tell me a little about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?” she asked. Somehow, blurting out her entire past history didn’t seem prudent. And she’d learned that if she didn’t ask for specifics on questions like that one she ended up revealing things she could have kept hidden.
She was hoping that working at Everest Records would be the buffer she needed between her past and her future. A job that would keep her so busy she’d stop worrying about would-haves and could-haves and learn to live again.
“For starters, why are you working at the Everest Group?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. The tight black sweater he wore pulled against the bulging muscles in his biceps. Clearly the man worked out, she thought.
“They hired me,” she said. After her talk with Daniel, she was afraid to say too much.
He laughed. “So it’s just a wage to you?”
She shrugged. “It’s a bit more. I really like music and being part of your team sounded like a lot of fun. A chance to see if we can find the next big thing…” She shrugged. “I’ve always thought of myself as a trendsetter, so now I have a chance to see if I am.”
At one time she’d thought she might become a record producer. She understood the job and the hard work that went into it, but she’d figured out that she didn’t have the attitude needed to make it there. She couldn’t be passionate about the artists she promoted and then walk away from them when their sales started to tank. She liked to think she had integrity.
“That makes working for me easier, I think. I’m going to need you to be more my personal assistant than my secretary. You will be available 24/7. We won’t be keeping regular office hours, because I mean to make this division of Everest Group into the most profitable. Do you have any objections?”
“None, sir. I was told that this job would be demanding,” she said. She looked forward to it. She needed a demanding job to sink her teeth into. She needed the work to keep her so busy she never had time to think about her failed personal life.
He nodded and gave her that little half smile of his. “Normally we won’t be in this office. I’d like to work out of my home in Bromley or my apartment here in London. We will mainly be listening to music acts at night.”
“That’s fine, sir.” To be honest, she didn’t need a lot of sleep.
“Good, now down to business. I need you to set up a file to keep information from several talent scouts. I am also sending you an e-mail with the people who work for me,” he said.
She nodded and made notes as he continued to set out the terms of the job. Despite the fact that the papers made him out as a playboy, it seemed Henry had cultivated a network he could use for business.
“Is there anything else?”
“Yes. I’ve been pretty good at picking acts when I hear them at clubs, but I like a second opinion.”
She nodded. “Why do you think that is?”
“Probably since I’m the typical person that most of these labels are targeting. I am young, social and know the scene.” He nodded. “I think that has given me a good ear for trends. What about you, Astrid?”
“I love music.” When she’d first moved to London she had been in the thick of the nightlife. Her sister Bethann and she had shared a flat and worked menial jobs and went clubbing with friends most nights. But then Bethann had become a legal assistant and gotten engaged and her social life had changed. “Part of the reason I was hired was because I’d been a personal assistant to Daniel Martin.”
“What are you into?” he asked. “What kind of music do you like?”
“Something with soul,” she said.
“Sounds…”
“Retro?”
“No, interesting.”
She left his office and tried to concentrate on the job ahead but she had enjoyed Henry—way too much for a boss. And he was her boss, something that she had to remember because she wasn’t interested in starting over again with a broken heart and an empty bank account.
* * *
Henry watched Astrid leave. His new PA was cute and funny and a bit cheeky. Having her in his office and on his team was going to make this job much more enjoyable.
Despite the fact that many people believed him to be nothing more than a celebrity sportscaster and philanthropist, Henry did have a serious side. He certainly played hard, but few people knew he worked even harder.
It was a lesson he’d learned from his stepfather, Gordon Ferguson. He’d first met Gordon when he was eight years old. Two years before his mum and Gordon married. Gordon was the head coach for the London Irish now but back then he had been one of the assistants. He’d helped Henry hone his rugby skills and made him into one of the best team captains of his generation.
Henry’s office was on the top floor of the Everest Group building. It was situated in a corner with a nice view of the London Eye across the Thames. He glanced around the nicely appointed office, feeling a bit uncomfortable. He knew he couldn’t work in a place as boxed in and sterile as this one.
He needed to get out of here. But first he wanted to know a little more about his assistant and about the task he’d taken on.
At first, when he’d heard Malcolm’s offer, he didn’t care if he won the challenge or not, but now that he was here, his competitive instincts were rising to the fore. He liked to win. There was a reason he’d been named as RFU Player of the Year. He liked being the best. He hungered for it.
He skimmed the reports that Astrid had prepared, making notes and trying not to remember how long Astrid’s legs had appeared under that short skirt she’d had on. And her smile…her mouth was full and tempting, and more than once when she’d been sitting there he’d wondered what her lips would taste like under his. Her mouth was wide, her lips plump, everything about her was irresistible.
Office romances weren’t a good idea, but he knew himself and he was attracted to his assistant. He decided he wouldn’t act on that attraction unless she showed some sign of interest in him. He needed her to win this challenge and to be honest, winning was more important than starting an affair.
“Henry?”
Astrid was standing in the doorway; her short curly hair brushed her cheeks. He really did like the slim-fitting skirt she wore—it was plaid and her black knee-high boots made her look tall. The plain black sweater clung to her breasts, and he realized he was staring when she cleared her throat.
“Yes, Astrid?”
“I need to pop down to legal to get Steph’s offer details in to legal. You mind if I let my phone go unanswered?”
“No, not at all. That was quick.” He was definitely going to like the perks that came with working in a large company. Being able to delegate tasks and have them done quickly—that was something he’d needed for a while.
Henry had been producing on his own in between handling his own endorsement deals for athletic shoes and soft drinks. He’d also hosted a kids’ sports TV show that had run for two seasons. He liked the perks that went along with being a celebrity, but hadn’t relished having to do so much of the legwork himself.
She smiled at him. “I aim to please.”
“You’ve accomplished that,” he said.
She left and he turned his chair so that he was facing the windows instead of watching the empty doorway. He’d always been a bit of a loner and that had suited him but having someone work for him…she was like his butler, he thought.
Yeah, right. He’d never ogled Hammond’s legs. Yet he had to remember that Astrid did work for him. His own mother’s affair with her record producer had led to the end of her singing career and his birth. He wondered sometimes if she ever resented that, but she’d never said.
He brushed that thought away. This was a new century. Attitudes were different than they had been in the ’70s. But he still didn’t want to make Astrid feel uncomfortable in the office with him.
At the same time he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to resist pulling Astrid into his arms before too long and finding out how good that sassy mouth of hers tasted under his.
His phone rang and he reached for it. “Devonshire here.”
“Henry? This is your mum.”
He loved how she always identified herself even though he could never mistake her for anyone else. “Hello, Mum. What’s up?”
“I need a favor,” Tiffany Malone-Ferguson said. “Do you know anyone at Channel Four?”
He knew a few people there. And he was afraid that this was going to be another attempt for his mother to regain the limelight. When pop stars and celebrities from the ’70s and ’80s had started turning up on game-style shows on Channel Four, his mum went mad. She’d said that she could return to the spotlight now that his half brothers were older.
“I have talked to everyone I know over there more than once.”
“Will you try again? Gordon suggested I start a show like that American show The Bachelor, but for rugby players. I know the lifestyle and I could definitely help arrange suitable girls. Not those tart scrummies that always pop up in the tabloids.”
This idea wasn’t half-bad. He made a few notes and asked her more questions about her idea. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’re the best, Henry. Love you.”
