Harlequin Superromance February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: His Forever Girl\Moonlight in Paris\Wife by Design (24 page)

BOOK: Harlequin Superromance February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: His Forever Girl\Moonlight in Paris\Wife by Design
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“Not really, but Billie sent an ad to some local websites, and Red Jack posted it on some NOLA message boards for artists. He's into all that crap.”

Graham stood, offering his hand just as he'd done for the last few days. Having Dave on his team felt good. Billie, too. He'd finally gotten some decent coffee. “I'll pull any resumes Billie has and set up some interviews at the beginning of next week.”

“Good man,” Dave said, taking his leave for the day.

Graham sank back into his chair and pulled out his cellphone. Tess still hadn't called him back.

His work life might be in shambles, but, damn, Sunday night had been incredible. He'd called her earlier in the week and left a message. Then texted her right after the Oedipus meeting, hoping the magnanimous gesture of giving Miles the real skinny had lined the stars up in his favor.

But she hadn't called or returned his text.

In her eyes, they were over.

He could see her point, being rivals and all, but after the tender way they'd parted, he'd hoped she relented and considered a tenuous relationship.

Damn it all, didn't they deserve to see if what they had was the real thing? Bad blood or no, he knew she'd fit him like a latex glove—no room for anything else. Just skin on skin—the way he liked it between them.

He pressed the email icon and sighed. No email, either.

Frick.

He picked up the desktop phone and hit the red button that would page Billie.

“What's up?” she said.

“We have any resumes for the art director gig?”

“Four.”

“Can you get them to me?”

Billie sighed. “Can a woodpecker peck wood? Check your inbox in thirty seconds. No, wait. Make that a minute or two.” She clicked off and Graham went through his other messages, waiting on the resumes.

Waiting on Tess.

CHAPTER TWENTY

A
FTER
LEAVING
HER
parents' house, Tess headed back into the city, phoning Gigi because she'd emailed her friend the contract terms Miles had sent Monique, hoping Gigi could do a quick look-see.

“What up, homey?” Gigi drawled into the receiver.

“I know you're super busy, but I sent you an email—”

“Already got it, and I'm charging you the usual friend rate,” Gigi said, moving around some papers or something in the background.

“A night of binge drinking and then holding your hair back while you puke?”

“Exactly.” Gigi laughed and it sounded like little bells tinkling. Seriously, how did someone have a magical laugh like that? “So when do you want to go out and shoot Jagermeister?”

“I could use a drink now, but I think I need a clear head this afternoon.”

“You okay? You sound stopped up.”

“It's been an emotional couple of days. I finally talked to my dad and got things straight with him. Now I'm facing down this whole career decision I made.”

“Yeah, I feel sort of responsible for that, so I've already read through the contract. It's fairly standard stuff in regards to business contracts. But there's this huge loophole. Like, I'm talking big-as-a-cloverleaf-in-LA huge.”

“About my being the project manager?” Tess switched lanes and headed deeper into the city.

“Exactly.”

“So if I quit Upstart...”

“Let's start with the contract I drew between you and Upstart in regards to your employment. See, when you and Monique agreed upon the three-month provision, I intentionally left the language loose. That's not to say you take any business you score for Upstart with you if you part ways, but I made sure you own your work and that it becomes the property of Upstart while you work for them. Intellectual rights stuff can get pretty complex, so I won't wade into that.”

“My head's getting muddled just thinking about it,” Tess said.

“So if you were to, say, leave Upstart, you would not be able to take any of the designs you created for Upstart with you. They would belong to the company because you were employed by the company. You dig?”

“Yeah. Sort of.”

“Okay, so this Oedipus deal is different. Miles Barrow is sharp as a pressed suit. In the contract he signed with Upstart, he designated that you, Tess Ullo, must be attached to the project in order for the contract to be valid. In other words, if you walk, he walks with you. In a roundabout way, he signed a contract with you, but because you work for Upstart, they get the krewe's business.”

Tess hit a pothole and her teeth banged together, even as something radical bloomed within her. “So I'm the key to Oedipus?”

“Pretty much.”

“Why would Monique agree to these terms knowing I could leave Upstart during my interim period without any repercussions, taking Miles Barrow's business with me?”

“It's risky, sure, but you said her ego is as big as Dallas, so maybe she's hedging her bets. After all, she believes you're out for revenge against your father. She might feel secure in the idea you won't leave a perfectly good job. Besides, I'm pretty sure she owns your designs. In other words, you can leave and take Oedipus with you, but you can't take the designs because those belong to Upstart.”

“But those weren't the original designs submitted by Upstart,” Tess grumbled, disappointed that her best work belonged to Monique...and the woman hadn't even appreciated it enough to send it out.

Gigi's lawyer signal kicked in. “What do you mean?”

Tess went over what she'd learned about the original proposal subbed to Upstart.

“So how did Miles know the designs weren't yours? Do you have some sort of trademark design I don't know about?”

“No. The only thing I could think of is that Miles saw the signatures or something on the designs Monique submitted that told him they weren't mine. He knew I had worked the account because I told him as much at the mixer.”

“Hmmm...” Gigi said, her wheels obviously spinning. “My advice is to call Miles and see what's up.”

“Is that official legal advice?”

“Yeah, totally free as long as you invite me to Sunday dinner when your ma makes Bolognese sauce.”

Tess smiled. “Will do.”

Clicking off with Gigi, Tess had pulled over to Cuppa Joe's, her mind reeling with this new information. Something in her was exhilarated at the thought of having Monique by the balls. She'd call Miles from the coffee shop and grab a cup of soothing tea to calm her shot nerves.

The place wasn't too busy and she quickly found a table and gave Miles a call. Of course, he wasn't available.

“Well, this is important, so I'd really appreciate it if you would give him my cell number and have him call me ASAP.”

“All his calls are important, so you'll just have to hold on to your britches,” Julian said.

“Julian, this is Tess Ullo. I sent you the gift certificate to Emeril's last year. This is me calling in my favor.”

“Missy miss,” Julian said, and Tess could picture him rolling his eyes. Probably clad in poplin and a bow tie. “I'll have him call you. Don't have a hissy.”

Tess grumbled an “okay” and then hung up. Settling back to wait, she watched the people coming in and out of the coffee shop. Her city was such a diverse one—the doors swung open to a teen girl with piercings and a tattoo wrapped around her neck, a soccer mom in Lululemon, a businessman barking into his Bluetooth and a gaggle of kids who'd obviously been tap-dancing in the quarter after school. They paid in wadded up dollars and change, counting it out carefully and sucking down the sweet, icy coffees.

Finally, her phone rang.

“Ma chère,” Miles crowed into the receiver. “I've made you a happy woman, eh?”

“Yes, Miles. I appreciate your liking my designs so much,” Tess said, cradling the dainty cup she always requested for her tea.

“Good, good. So why the frantic call? You had Julian doing flips trying to get me off a conference call with a disgruntled, and might I add, burned, employee of Happy Burger.”

“Sorry, I had a few questions,” Tess said, unsure as to how to basically ask if he were aware her boss double-crossed her. “The first proposal Monique submitted wasn't mine.”

“I know,” he said, with a smile in his voice. “That's why I called her and asked her to take a meeting with me. I didn't understand why she would hire the best float designer in town with the best name in Mardi Gras and not use her the way God intended.”

Because Monique couldn't give up the slightest bit of power to anyone? Because she was scared? Because she was a bitch? Because she was a blooming idiot? Pick one. Any one.

Tess didn't say that, of course. “How did you know the design wasn't mine?”

“I didn't. The first proposal was fine, but to be honest, I had decided to continue with your dad's company. I've been with Ullo a long time and what Monique gave me wasn't enough to make me want to switch. They were very competent and professional, but I needed fantastic to make that switch, you know? So this morning, I met with Graham Naquin and prepared to sign on the dotted line.”

Graham again.

The man popped up everywhere—in her thoughts, dreams...her life.

“So...” she prompted.

“Well, in the course of my conversation with Naquin this morning, he said something about your design that didn't mesh.”

“He talked about my design?” Something not so warm climbed within her. He'd been poking through her things, had seen her designs, giving himself a leg up on what the competition planned.

But then the rational part of her remembered who Graham was. He wouldn't have trashed her. Wouldn't have good reason to mention her at all.

“In a good way. He said something to the effect of having seen your designs and sweating our contract negotiations. Something about that didn't sit right with me.”

Another long stretch of silence.

“Miles?”

“Yeah. Okay, here's the deal. You know I'm a man of my word and you know I'm not underhanded in the slightest. Well, at least not much. But I showed Graham the designs Upstart had submitted. Now, don't you go telling Monique. I don't need her riding my back, implying I'm unethical. I've never done nothing like that before, but I can smell when something ain't right.

“So, I hand over the proposal to Graham and he gets this funny look on his face. Finally, he tosses the proposal on my desk and says it isn't your work.”

Tess sat back so hard in her chair she scared the man reading the paper sitting behind her. “What? He...uh... I can't—”

“Yeah, I couldn't believe it, either, but he said they weren't yours, and that I couldn't ask him how he knew, but he knew. Then he did the damnedest thing I ever saw in the business world.”

Tess knew what Miles was going to say before he said it. “He told you my designs were better than his.”

Miles laughed. “Yeah, the bastard did. He said I should call Monique and tell her to send your stuff over. He said you deserved a shot at my business.”

Tess dropped her head to her chest as a huge wave of mixed emotion washed over her—guilt, shame, pleasure, gratitude and love were only a few of them. “Why would he do that?”

“I don't know. He's either the most honest man in the world, or he had a really good reason. But he was right. Your designs are better than any of the others I've received. I don't understand why Monique didn't sub them. Well, I've met her a few times and actually I do.”

Tess couldn't comprehend what Graham had done. Why had he destroyed his chance to secure the krewe of Oedipus's business? It didn't make sense for him to hand over the golden apple, a very lucrative, point-of-pride golden apple. Integrity was one thing, being stupid in business another.

Maybe her father had been wrong.

Or maybe Graham had a different motivation. Maybe Graham was more like her father than what she wanted to admit.

“Okay,” Tess said, nodding her head though only the man who'd gotten up and moved to another table could see her. “That's what I wanted to know.”

“Hey, Tess,” Miles said, his tone growing more serious. “I'm not saying anything against Monique, but I will note this. I don't like she didn't present your work over the proposal she sent over. Any fool could see your design was better, but I gathered she thought her design work should stand before yours. A good business owner never lets her ego get in the way of doing what is best for the company. The only reason why I signed on with Upstart, for one year only I might add, was because of your designs. Monique wasn't overly happy with contract terms.”

“Yeah, so I gather,” Tess said, walking toward the bar and sliding her cup over to the barista. “I thank you for being forthcoming with me, Miles.”

“See ya, Tess.”

Tess hung up, took a deep coffee-scented breath and pushed back out into the humid New Orleans air.

Finally the pieces of her life were snapping into place. She had learned more about her boss in ten minutes than she had the entire time working for her. Tess wasn't cavalier enough to overlook the blatant lack of professionalism her boss had displayed. Nor was she willing to play backup to Cecily. She'd made peace with her father, and in doing so, made peace with her own faults. And finally, she'd come face-to-face with Graham's selflessness. Maybe not the shark her father had hoped for, but the man had a heart of gold and an undeniable sense of honor.

Her pride had brought her to where she now stood, but love would take her where she belonged.

Tess climbed in her car and drove straight to Upstart. At the office, the workday had wound down, but Monique still sat at her desk, phone to ear, fingers clicking on her keyboard.

Josh wasn't lounging around anywhere, and Emily didn't seem to be around, either.

Perfect time to quit her job.

Tess didn't belong at Upstart...and never would.

Monique sat the phone in the cradle, not bothering to meet Tess's gaze. She said, “What's up?”

“Can I talk to you?”

“You are talking to me,” Monique drawled, the glow of the computer illuminating her perfect features.

Yeah. And there was the whole “make Tess feel stupid” thing Monique had going.

“I'm not going to stay.”

Monique's brow furrowed and still she didn't look at Tess. “You don't have to. I'm not checking your hours. I trust you.”

“Wow, that's unexpected,” Tess said, placing the copy of her contract on the desk. “But what I'm trying to say is that I don't think my job here at Upstart is going to work out.”

Monique finally looked at her before slamming her hands onto the desk. “No. Unacceptable.”

“I can't stay, Monique.”

“Is this because of what happened earlier? It was a disagreement, Tess. Please don't tell me your skin is that thin.”

“It's not just about today. It's about realizing I will never belong here.”

Eyes blazing, Monique leaned back. “I guess you're not the woman I thought you were.”

“I guess I'm not,” Tess said. “But you can't deny I don't fit here. I've learned a lot from you, but I think it's better if I don't continue.”

Looking down at the contract, Monique sighed. “I knew I shouldn't have agreed to that ninety-day trial period. Damn it.”

Tess sank onto the same chair she'd sat in over a month ago. “I don't think you're happy with me, either. You're accustomed to running things, and I am, too. This was the first clash we've had, but it wouldn't be the last. Upstart is a good company, and you were doing fine without me.”

“We're doing better with you,” she said.

Tess nodded. “Maybe for a while, but the Ullo name only does so much, Monique.”

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