New release today, THE PERFECT PROPOSAL, by Regina Andrews!
http://www.amazon.com/Perfect-Proposal-Regina-Andrews-ebook/dp/B00L31OJXE/ Regina Andrews. Very exciting!
http://bit.ly/1ynVRam and http://www.reginaandrews.com
Taking a deep breath, Lindsay Richardson tightened her grip on the thick leather handle of her father's briefcase, trying to draw some of his strength and fortitude from it.
Something warned her she was going to need all of that, plus a special prayer, to face her first day of work at Copley Industries. She opened the door to her boss's office for their initial meeting.
"I said no interruptions, Claire, please." She heard a man's voice coming from the other side of the cavernous office. He spoke without looking up from his desk as he shuffled through a stack of papers.
"I'm sorry. I'm not Claire. But she told me--"
"Claire doesn't run Copley Industries. I do. That's the First Commandment here."
Lindsay cringed at his use of that particular phrase, but she bit her lip and gripped the leather handle of the briefcase even tighter than before.
He stood up and switched on the recessed copper-rimmed lights. Now Lindsay could see him clearly. She was in trouble. She had walked into the wrong office.
"I'm sorry for intruding, I have an appointment with Mr. Copley, but it must be your father, not you. I didn't open the right door."
His clear blue eyes narrowed. From the tip of his sandy hair to his designer shoes, everything about the thirty-something executive spelled advantage to Lindsay. She felt like an alien life form under his intense scrutiny.
"I'm your Mr. Copley. For now," he said, coming toward her from behind his desk. There was something in his tone of voice Lindsay didn't understand. "Call me Dean."
Lindsay felt like a bobble-headed doll as she nodded. "Okay."
"Who are you, anyway?"
"I'm Lindsay Richardson, from St. Gregory's Elementary School."
When there was no response from him, she continued talking really fast, before he could tell her to leave. "We saw each other on Saturday. I was handing out leaflets about the church music group at the apartment complex. You're an owner there, and so's my sister. Don't you remember?"
"No. What did I say?"
"You mentioned something about my timing being bad."
"One might say it's still true." He raised one eyebrow.