Think About Love Read Free

Jason will take their resumes, prescreen them, and mark them as candidates or not, then introduce them to one of the volunteers. Accountants get someone from accounting; developers get a developer. Depending on the prescreening, the volunteer will either take the recruit to an interview or an information session about Tremaine's. The NFT's—not for Tremaine's—will get the information film about the company, refreshments—"
    "And be told to buzz off."
    "Nicely," she said with another of those smiles. "The ones we interview will either be passed on up for a second interview or marked NFT, and sent to the information session."
    "This better work. We need those developers yesterday."
    "We've had good feedback, plenty of phone calls. We're hoping for five hundred people at the open house. It's going to be hectic, but it's innovative. Developers don't like working for stodgy companies, and this open house tells them that we're part of the new wave, not the old guard."
    "You've done a good job, Sam." Had he told her that often enough? What exactly was it that motivated her? He didn't think it was power—she was too good at delegating. Money? Praise?
    "I'm having fun," she said, hitting him with that smile again. He had the urge to move closer instead of pacing back to the window. For perhaps the thousandth time, he blocked the images her smile so often drew to his mind: Sam wearing something soft and clinging in place of that gray suit, her feet bare, her shining brown hair flowing free. How long was her hair? Shoulder length? What if....
    No! Samantha Jones was far too valuable to be risked in a temporary romance.
    The ring of a telephone interrupted his fantasy.
    "I told Dee not to put any calls through," he growled.
    "I'm expecting a call." Sam walked rapidly to the telephone and picked it up. "Hi, Marcy.... Yes, put him through."
    He frowned at the tension on Sam's face as she wedged the receiver between shoulder and chin and pulled her electronic organizer from her jacket pocket.
    "Hello, Dexter." She frowned and juggled her stylus, organizer, and telephone. "Any way we can put it off? No, Friday's impossible. Can you—Yes, I agree. I—yes, I'll be there."
    "Problems?" he asked when she'd cradled the receiver again.
    "No," she said. She switched off her portable computer and slipped it into its case.
    "Sam, hold on a minute."
    She stood waiting for his words, eyes inscrutable, lips unsmiling. This was pure impulse, but he'd learned to trust his impulses.
    "We signed a contract when you started working here. I assigned you a block of shares that would become vested in two years."
    Her eyes met his, unblinking. "Provided you're satisfied with my work."
    "I'm satisfied." Why the devil were they talking so formally? "I've been making things hard for you these last few weeks."
    "You've been a nuisance, Cal, but I know you're itching to get started on this project. Once this recruitment is over, you'll get off my back."
    "I think it's time to vest your shares, give you that seat on the board. I'll call the lawyer in the morning and set it up."
    She looked stunned.
    "This wasn't supposed to happen for another six months." She picked up her computer case, looking a hell of a lot less pleased than he would have expected.
    "What the hell's going on, Sam?"
    She shifted her grip on the computer. "We've got a meeting in about ten minutes. Can we talk afterward?"
    "Yes," he agreed. "We'll talk afterward."

    We'll talk afterward. Samantha shivered as she closed her office door.
    She should have told Cal when she hung up from speaking to Dexter, but until that moment she'd thought she could rely on phone calls and the lawyer to keep everything under control up in Canada—at least until after the open house.
    If Samantha didn't show up at the family court hearing, the court would give temporary custody to the Ministry of Children and Families. Kippy would be with strangers. Just a baby... she wouldn't understand; she'd be pining for