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Miss White And The Seventh Heir
Miss White And The Seventh Heir
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Miss White And The Seventh Heir

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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 Rousseau III was just too uppity. He soon became Trey, meaning “the third.” His mother had hated it, but he’d liked having a different name than his absentee father. For this mission, he’d combined his nickname with his late mother’s maiden name.

Since he’d initially met with the board of QTR International he’d grown a beard and mustache, which he found itchy, and he’d cut his longer hair super short. To finish the look, he’d given up his contacts and purchased dark-framed glasses. Even his own mother would hesitate to recognize him.

His only problem was that he didn’t expect Sage White to be so young. He must have missed her age when he’d done his research. And more than that, he didn’t expect her to be such a jaw-dropping knockout. The pictures online certainly didn’t do her justice. With her dark hair, fair complexion and vivid blue almost violet eyes, he was sorry that they were on opposite sides of this magazine deal—very sorry.

“Mr. Renault?”

There he went letting himself be distracted. He was going to have to work harder to remain focused when he was around her—if he got the job.

“Oui.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, yes.”

She gave him a strange look and then in a blink it was gone. “I must admit your résumé is quite impressive.”

She leaned back in her chair, looking quite at ease as though she were born to sit there. And perhaps she was at ease, considering her father had been a legend in the publishing industry. But something had gone astray after her father’s death and somehow Sage White had been blackballed from the industry...until now. What did his father know about Sage White that he didn’t?

Sage sent him an expectant look.

“Merci.” He’d worked hard to make sure his qualifications would catch her attention. However, the trick was making sure he didn’t appear to be overqualified.

She arched a dark brow as she gave him a pointed stare as though she were trying to read his thoughts. “Why would you want to work here at QTR?”

To find out about your special brand of magic. And put a stop to it.

Suddenly finding his mouth a bit dry, he cleared his throat. It was best to stick with as much of the truth as possible. “I’ve heard you’re making great strides in turning the magazine around and I would like to be a part of it.”

She nodded as though his answer was acceptable. Then she glanced down at his résumé. “I don’t see where you have any experience working in the publishing industry.”

He’d noticed that, too, when he was putting together his first-ever résumé. He’d never needed one before since he’d started his own software company while still in college. He’d always been his own boss. In fact, he was used to people answering to him, not the other way around. This arrangement was definitely going to take some adjusting for him. But how hard could an assistant position be?

Still, he hadn’t wanted his résumé to be too perfect or it would have been suspicious. Nor did he want it to be filled with too much fiction. And so his work experience was limited to positions within a few trusted friends’ companies.

Trey swallowed hard. “Publishing is new to me. But I like challenges. And I’m a fast learner.”

Again, she nodded. She sat back in her chair and gave him a serious stare. He couldn’t help but wonder if she was deep in thought or if she was somehow trying to intimidate him.

“It sounds to me like you get bored easily,” Sage said. “Is that the case?”

How had she done that? Read him so easily? He had to admit that it made him a bit uncomfortable. He enjoyed being a man of mystery. “I...” His voice died away as he desperately sought out some answer to assuage her worries. “I thrive on challenges.”

The worry that had been reflected in her eyes faded. “I can definitely challenge you.”

Suddenly his imagination veered from the subject of business. In his mind’s eye, she was challenging him, but it wasn’t with reports or emails; instead it was with her glossy full lips. They were so tempting. And the berry-red hue made them stand out against her ivory skin.

He swallowed hard and drew his gaze upward to meet hers. “Then it sounds like we’ll make a great team.”

“Not so fast. I didn’t say you were hired.”

“But you will. You need me.” He sent her one of his best smiles.

She didn’t appear phased. “I don’t need anyone.”

“So you’re one of those.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Not about to stumble down that rabbit hole, he said, “You need me, you just don’t know it yet.”

Sage leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. If she was trying to look intimidating, it wasn’t working. “You have a very odd way of interviewing.”

He did? That was quite possible, but he’d gained her attention. She wouldn’t forget him.

“I’m the man you need. I’m smart, timely and efficient.”

“And not lacking in conceit.”

He shook his head. “It’s not conceit when it’s a fact. Give me thirty days and I’ll prove it to you.”

He could see by the look in her eyes that he was getting through to her. She would hire him. He was certain of that. This interview had lingered longer than he’d ever imagined and she genuinely seemed interested in him—in his skills, that is.

CHAPTER TWO (#u7a648a24-c26c-5f63-9e98-bbe4d6a47f74)

HE WAS COCKY. She’d definitely give Trey that much.

But sometimes that wasn’t such a bad thing.

Sage always did like a challenge. It was his third day on the job and he’d presented a very big challenge. But of all the candidates, he struck her as a get-it-done type. And that’s who she needed on her team right now—if she hoped to continue to turn around this magazine.

An email popped up. Sage was just about to call a management meeting, but the subject line caught her attention: Elsa White. That name was enough to send her good mood in a downward spiral. What was her stepmother up to this time?

Sage had always known that her stepmother had outmaneuvered her into gaining control of White Publishing. Sage had been young and naive. She’d wanted to believe that her stepmother wasn’t a monster, but reality was much harsher than Sage had been prepared to accept at the tender age of eighteen. It had been that particular birthday when she’d lost her childhood home, her destiny and her naivety. She’d been forced to grow up—it came with a lot of painful life lessons.

She knew that if she was wise, she’d let go of the past and keep moving forward, but she couldn’t. She remembered being a little girl and sitting behind her father’s large desk at the headquarters of White Publishing. Her father would swing her chair around until she was looking out over the bustling city and he would tell her that one day all of this would be hers. But she was never to take it for granted. As the head of White Publishing, she would have a great responsibility and it went beyond the quarterly results. She needed to be generous, understanding and compassionate with everyone around her.

That had been before he had been bewitched by Elsa. After that, nothing was ever the same. Had her father truly changed his mind about the business and her role in it? It was a question she’d been contemplating off and on for years. Sometimes she thought she knew the answer, and other times she wasn’t so sure.

Knock. Knock.

Trey ducked his head inside the door. He looked as though he were going to say something but then he hesitated.

“What did you need?”

“Um...” He stepped farther into the room. “I’ve sent out that email to the department heads, so I was going to head out to lunch—”

“Already?” She glanced at the time on her computer. A quarter till twelve. She frowned. Did she strike him as some sort of pushover?

“I was in early.”

This new role as management was taking some getting used to. For so many years, she’d been the one taking the orders; now she was the one handing them out. But she couldn’t let anyone see her discomfort. If she did, she’d lose their respect and it’d be all downhill from there.

“Lunch can wait.”

Trey’s brows rose. “But I have plans.”

“This work needs to be your priority.”

Trey opened his mouth, but he immediately closed it.

She grabbed the stack of manila folders from the corner of her desk. In this modern day, they still did a lot of things via hard copy. Going forward, she’d like to automate a number of functions, but for now, like so many other things, it’d have to wait.

Sage held out the files. “I’ve approved these reports and disbursements. Please see that they get to the appropriate departments.”

He stepped forward and accepted the files. “Anything else?”

She refused to let his cool tone get to her. She didn’t ask anyone to work any harder than her. “Yes, there is.”

And then she began to explain a new report she wanted him to prepare each month analyzing the ad space. Advertising was their bread and butter. She needed to keep a close eye on it and if possible expand the magazine to accommodate a higher frequency and larger campaign. Fashion and cosmetics were their biggest contributors, but she was interested in expanding to other areas such as upscale furniture or designer products.

Trey made notes. “Couldn’t you just get this from the advertising department?”

“I could.” But she wasn’t sure she trusted the supervisor. It was rumored that his work was declining and his lunches were more of the liquid variety. Until she had proof, she was unwilling to act on the rumors.

“Then why don’t you?”

She leveled a cold, hard gaze on him. “I asked you to do it, not them.”

He at least had the decency to look uncomfortable. “I’ll get right on it.”

Trey walked away with his tasks in hand. She wondered if she’d handled everything correctly with Trey. She needed to be forceful but not too over the top. Had she pushed too hard?

Second-guessing herself was a bad habit of hers. It was something she’d started to do after her father died and Elsa had found fault with everything Sage did, from the cooking to the cleaning. Sage shoved aside the unhappy memories. There was work to do.

And an email to read.

Sage turned back to her computer monitor and sighed. For every email she’d responded to that morning, there were two new ones. She worked her way from top to bottom. She assured herself that this was her normal routine and not a stalling tactic, but at last, she opened the email from her private investigator.

The first thing to catch her attention was the fact that the investigator was on to something regarding her stepmother. Thank goodness. He was the third investigator she’d hired. The first had taken her money and produced zero results. The second one had been caught snooping around White Publishing. This third man cost her all of her savings and more. She’d bet everything on him. He was her last hope.

But the second thing to catch her attention was that he needed more money. The sizable retainer she’d previously paid him had given her serious pause. It had wiped out her savings and then some. The only way to pay him more was to get the board’s approval of her business plan for the magazine’s future and receive the bonus stated in her contract.

Knock. Knock.

At five after twelve, Trey returned. “The paperwork has been dealt with and I have your report started. I’m going to lunch.” He studied her for a moment. “Unless that’s a problem?”

“That’s fine.”

“Are you sure? Because you’re frowning again.”

She nodded. When she saw doubt reflected in his eyes, she said, “Seriously, it’s not you. It’s an email I received.”