A Taste of Honey Read Free Page B

here.”
    “What don’t you understand?”
    “None of it.”
    Hell. He studied her lovely face, her glorious red hair that swung low over her shoulders, the warmth of her coffee-colored eyes, and wished they had met under different circumstances. He liked what he saw very much and that made it extremely dangerous for them to be working together. What if he fell for her? What if behind those fantastic eyes and that innocent expression was a schemer? My God, she could have the same plans as Mavis. His safe world trembled. Maybe she’d imagined now that his uncle had died that she’d be taking over the reins of Knight Books? She was too beautiful to be trusted.
    “Your position as chief editor is temporary. My uncle never made it permanent. My hands are tied. This was never meant to be a temporary position. You must understand this.”
    “So where does this leave me?”
    “You’ll revert back to your former position as editor.”
I’ll make it worth her while. Same wages. A bonus for work well done.
He felt more at ease now. As if he was doing her a favor.
    He saw fire in her eyes. “I’ve been doing the job for nearly a year.”
    “And admirably. Thanks for doing a great job.” He wanted the interview over. “You can apply for the position the same as everyone.”
    “Gee, thanks. Who’ll be doing the interviewing?”
    “Me.”
    “So it’d be a waste of time, wouldn’t it, Mr. Knight. I mean if you were interested in me as your CE then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
    “It’s not fair to the other employees who might like the CE’s job. They, like you,” he hastened to add, “want the chance to get it.”
    He left her to return to his chair. He picked up his pen and wrote furiously on a pad. He could feel her eyes burning into the top of his head. “Thanks, Honey. That’ll be all for now.” What could he do to alleviate the tension between them? His eyes fell on the crystal vase of flowers. He imagined Honey would have been responsible for placing them on his desk. Nice gesture.
    • • •
    Interview over.
    Charli made her way to his office door. The realization of what was happening descending like a wet blanket. Her anger turned to despair and a lump as big as a concrete block filled her throat. He was getting rid of her. A real don’t-call-me-I’ll-call-you type of bloke. All her wild fanciful suppositions suddenly held no comparison to the truth. This couldn’t be Malcolm Knight’s nephew. Surely none of Malcolm Knight’s genes were in this man’s body. William Knight’s Y gene was definitely Y for yobbo, yokel and, and — she couldn’t think of another Y word.
    “Before you leave, Honey.”
    Hope flared as she turned to face him. He stared at her. Her legs weak under the spellbinding gaze of crushed emeralds.
Get a grip here, Charli, this guy is public enemy number one and he sees you as Dick Tracy.
“Yes, Mr. Knight?” she said eagerly.
    “Thank whoever put the flowers in my office. It’s a warm welcome.”
    “It was Judy. Your receptionist.” Charli wanted no thanks from him.
    “Oh, my receptionist. Great. Great, and very thoughtful.” He smiled. It did nothing to alleviate her intense disliked for him, and giving him a glare she hoped would shrivel his gorgeous hair from the top of his equally gorgeous head, Charli marched out of his office.
    She slumped into her chair and leaning her elbow on top of her desk, cupped her chin in her hand.
    This was the worst thing that could happen. Tears flooded. She blinked them back. She didn’t want to leave Knight Books. She loved her job and had thought she’d be here until retirement.
    She’d been so prepared to work like a dog for the young Mr. Knight. Stand loyally by his side through thick and thin. He hadn’t even given her a chance.
    He’d said her name had confused him. So he’d thought her a man, and, obviously working alongside a woman, for the illustrious William Knight, was akin to working with a