Henry looked sheepish. ‘I knew you’d never go for it——’
‘You knew?’ she accused.
‘All right, both Rick and I knew.’
‘Then you were both right,’ she snapped. ‘I could never work for him.’
‘But I’ve signed the contracts now!’
‘But I haven’t,’ she pointed out stiffly. ‘You knew I would never agree to it, Henry,’ she shook her head. ‘And your signature can’t commit me to anyone.’
‘You’re contracted to Fashion Lady, regardless of who owns it.’
‘Then I resign,’ she snapped.
‘Your contract requires three months’ notice,’ he reminded her.
‘I rescind all right to the money owed me,’ Shanna told him. ‘Just give me my references.’
‘I can’t do that,’ Henry shook his head. ‘I’m no longer your employer. And if you leave now Rick would sue you and me for breach of contract.’
‘Then let him!’ Her eyes flashed in challenge.
‘Shanna, I signed my part of the bargain in good faith.’ Henry’s voice lowered pleadingly. ‘One breach of the contract could ruin the whole deal.’
She glared at her brother. ‘Then it will have to ruin it!’
‘And the Chronicle could go under!’
She frowned, searching her brother’s face, seeing the lines of worry there, the strain he had been hiding from her. ‘That bad?’ she said softly.
‘That bad,’ he nodded grimly.
‘Rick Dalmont wouldn’t call off the whole deal just because I won’t work for him!’
‘He will,’ Henry said with certainty.
‘He—will?’
Her brother nodded. ‘He refused to even consider signing the contract until you were included in it.’
‘God,’ she said shakily.
‘It’s normal practice for senior staff to stay on after such a negotiation,’ Henry pushed his point as he sensed her confusion.
‘Nothing about Rick Dalmont is normal,’ she flashed. ‘You know why he’s done this, Henry. I won’t go out with him, so he’s forcing me to relate to him from a work point of view.’
‘That’s rubbish,’ he dismissed abruptly. ‘I told you, we’ve been discussing the deal for months.’
‘And when did I enter into it?’
‘About—Well, I——’ Henry broke off, frowning.
‘About two weeks ago, right? Before that I’m sure he had no interest in the staff of Fashion Lady,’ she scorned. ‘That he didn’t give a damn if they stayed or went.’
‘That isn’t true,’ her brother blustered. ‘The future of the staff of Fashion Lady has always been high on my list of priorities.’
‘Your priorities, Henry,’ she pounced triumphantly. ‘Rick Dalmont doesn’t give a damn about the little people who get in his way. He told me so himself.’
‘No one at Fashion Lady is in his way.’
‘I will be. His being my boss won’t make the slightest difference to how I feel about him personally. I don’t like him, nothing will change that.’
‘You don’t have to like him, just work for him.’
‘That isn’t what he wants, and you know it,’ Shanna sighed. ‘Henry, how could you do this to me?’ she groaned. ‘You’ve seen the way he follows me, the way he never stops looking at me. I’ll be handing in my notice—I have to, Henry,’ she insisted as he went to protest. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll give him his three months. With any luck he’ll leave the acquisition of Fashion Lady to one of his hirelings.’
But she knew he wouldn’t, knew this was just the opportunity Rick Dalmont had been waiting for. She wasn’t conceited enough to think he had bought Fashion Lady just to get a hold over her, but she felt sure he would lose no opportunity in using it as such. She would have to be very careful of Ricardo Dalmont in future; he didn’t play by any rules she knew, in fact he didn’t play at all!
Everything seemed normal when she went in to work on Monday morning; no high-powered executive was waiting for her to tell her of her new employer. Gloria, her secretary, sat in her normal place behind her desk, handing over the mail and messages that had already come in.
But Shanna knew that she was different, that inside she was a seething mass of emotions. If Rick Dalmont thought he was going to breeze in here and take her by surprise as the new owner of the magazine then he was going to be out of luck; she intended greeting him as coolly as ever. And she didn’t intend that he should have the upper hand in anything.
‘Gloria,’ she buzzed through to her secretary, ‘get Mr Dalmont of Dalmont Industries for me. He’s at the Excellence, I believe.’
‘Rick Dalmont?’
‘That’s the one, Gloria,’ she said lightly, releasing the intercom button. Gloria was a good secretary, and had worked for the previous editor too, but even her usually unruffled demeanour had been unnerved by the mention of Rick Dalmont. He would have that effect on most women, and as most of the staff at Fashion Lady were women she envisaged more than a little hero-worship once it was known he was the new boss.
‘Mr Dalmont, Shanna,’ Gloria announced a few minutes later.
She picked up the blue telephone on her desk that matched the blue and white décor of her executive office. The cover of Fashion Lady was always in blue and white, and for the most part so was Shanna’s office. Blue was a colour she tended to avoid away from work.
‘Mr Dalmont?’
‘Shanna,’ he returned throatily.
‘I believe we should meet, Mr Dalmont.’ Her tone was briskly businesslike as she imagined his mocking humour at the other end of the telephone.
‘You’ve spoken to Henry?’ he drawled.
She could now visualise the look of satisfaction on his smug face. ‘I’ve spoken to him,’ she acknowledged. ‘Would twelve o’clock in my office be convenient?’
‘Are you inviting me out to lunch, Shanna?’ he taunted.
Her mouth tightened, the gleam of revenge in her eyes making them glow deeply green. ‘I’m inviting you to my office at twelve o’clock,’ she told him stiffly.
‘I’ll be there.’ He rang off abruptly.
And so would she. She could sense his feeling of triumph even over the telephone, and she was determined he wouldn’t know any more such feelings where she was concerned. He had won this round, and she would see that Henry didn’t have to go back on his word as a business man because of her, but Ricardo Dalmont wouldn’t win any more rounds over her. She was going to be one step ahead of him from now on. Ignoring him hadn’t worked, being polite to him hadn’t either, she would have to try and make sure she stayed that one step ahead of him in future.
She had warned Gloria to buzz through to her office when Rick Dalmont arrived, and it was exactly twelve o’clock when the single buzz alerted her. She moved smoothly to her feet, ethereally thin in the black dress, her black hair caught in at her nape, her eyes like twin jewels above her high cheekbones.
Rick Dalmont’s eyes widened appreciatively as she went out to greet him, those same dark eyes narrowing at her formality.
‘Please