Management Skills Read Free

SSG had to be the mystery man in the black coat. What were the chances?
    Pilar flew into the room. She was a Hispanic hottie with gorgeous milk-chocolate skin. Hair like pink straw framed her round face. Today she wore an eccentric combo of a sheer, frilly pink blouse with billowing pirate sleeves and a short pleather skirt. A heavy silver belt completed her look. She was a super-competent SSG machinist, but she dressed as if she seriously wanted to catch herself on fire.
    Pilar headed for her table. She always smelled like sugar and vanilla.
    “Sorry, I had to—” Pilar stopped and stared at Allie. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”
    Allie shrugged. “I just saw my past.”
    “Okay.” Pilar sat at the table and waited for her to elaborate.
    Maybe Pilar could help her with her fears, maybe convince her she was overreacting. “I have a little bit of a past with my boss.”
    Pilar’s black eyes grew wide. “What boss?”
    “Stop yelling, Pilar,” Allie hissed. She flicked a worried glance about the room. Most of the workers appeared glazed and tired, not that interested in their conversation. “ The boss.”
    “Huh? The boss? Who is the boss? Cut the cryptology, girlfriend. Who are you talking about?”
    “I have a history with Grant,” Allie whispered. “The CEO.”
    “Wow. Oh, wow.” Pilar licked her voluptuous lips, painted the same pink as her hair. “A history with Grant? I’d like a present with him.”
    “Thanks. That’s helpful.”
    “Sorry. It’s just that when I feel those black velvet eyes on me, I turn into a volcano about to erupt.”
    “They’re purple.”
    Pilar blinked her green-shadowed eyes. “What’s purple?”
    “His eyes,” Allie said.
    “Nobody has purple eyes.”
    “Liz Taylor does. Or not. Liz’s eyes are violet, I guess. Anyway, can we get back to my problem?”
    Pilar studied her hot pink sparkle nails. “Yeah. Sure. What is the problem? You slept with a gorgeous man?”
    “I never slept with him. The problem is that he recognized me. I used to be an exotic dancer, Pilar. He must have designed the tech for the show I was in. He remembers me. I remember him.”
    “So?”
    “People think exotic dancers are sluts. And if he thinks I’m a slut, I’m screwed. I’m supposed to be the total professional. This job, my career, means everything to me.”
    “Obviously,” Pilar said. “You dress like a nun. And you work harder than an ox. That’s why you got the job.”
    “I do not dress like a nun,” Allie said. “And anyway, Grant could still fire me.”
    Pilar raised her thin, shapely brows. “For what? For once being an exotic dancer? He was the one watching you. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.” She shook her head. “Whatever you did, he did it with you. Who is he to judge?”
    “Who is he? He’s the boss. He’s a man. Ever heard about the double standard? A man can indulge in anything, but not a woman?”
    “Look, Allie, what makes you think Grant remembers you?”
    “Because he does. He called me Silver. Silver was sort of my stage name.”
    “You’re psyching yourself out,” Pilar said, shrugging. “So what if Grant thinks he recognizes you? Deny it. He can’t prove anything. Keep on insisting you’re not Silver and he’ll back off. He’ll have to. Otherwise it’s sexual harassment. So, let’s forget about this unbelievably gorgeous guy for a while and you start telling me about your new job.”
    Allie described all the perks and possibilities of being a production manager. She told Pilar about the fancy nameplate on her door. A feeling of doom still settled into her stomach. Even if Grant backed off, what was she going to do with her unexpected and massive attraction to him?

Chapter Three
    Grant gazed about his office, all sleek pale European maple furniture and lush gray-blue carpeting. A row of gigantic windows, now hidden by gray vertical shades, dominated one wall. It was an understated and cultured