“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he told her coolly.
She walked around his desk and sat on the edge of it in front of him. “We were close, darling. Just before she came into our lives.” Her look was pleading. “If only you'd married Caroline—”
“Let me stop you right there. I'm not married to Caroline, and even if I wasn't married to Donna, I wouldn't be marrying her. The relationship had ran its course and I want you to let it go. I also would like it if you and Caroline wouldn't discuss my marriage when you meet for lunch, or whatever it is that you do. Is that understood?”
“She's my friend,” Talia said sulkily.
“If you're friends, as you call it, you surely must have other things to discuss. Now, if you would excuse me, I have two meetings that I'm prepping for. Please do your best not to antagonize Donna any further. She isn't your run of the mill doormat and tends to fight back.”
“You have feelings for her!” his sister accused.
“Talia, please control yourself and get back to work.”
He waited until she'd slammed his doors shut before he got up and went to pour himself a drink. He was getting tired of the sudden complications in his life. Not to mention the fact that his wife no longer wanted him in her bed and was giving him the cold shoulder. Now he was faced with the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about her and wanting her so much that he was finding it hard to go to sleep at night! He tossed back the drink and poured some more. He had meetings to attend but he wasn't in the frame of mind to do so.
*****
“I'm afraid your first big presentation has been shut down before it takes fruition,” Simone told her later that day as she came into her office. Simone Waverly had an abundance of thick dark hair and lively dark brown eyes, a heritage, as she put it, from her Puerto Rican mother. She'd worked in marketing with Donna and had jumped at the offer to become a part of the newest department, not to mention the pay hike she would be receiving. She was also one of the few people who didn't treat her differently just because her name had changed, and Donna trusted her.
Donna looked up from the Instagram post she'd just made with a frown. “What do you mean?”
She handed the proposal to Donna along with the documentation. “It’s too out there,” Simone said with a grimace. “Apparently, putting it on Facebook and other social media that Hoffman Industries is a company where people and positivity go hand in hand isn't something the company wants to embrace right now.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Simone shrugged as she sat in front of the desk and pulled her sweater down. “I, for one, think that it's great that you're doing this. Social Media doesn't have to be the enemy people think it is. And highlighting the charities that go on at the company tells people that we like people and that we care about what happens to them. We aren't all about the bottom line.”
“Which is exactly what I'm trying to project. Who shot it down?”
“Your husband, honey,” Simone said with a wry smile.
Donna’s dark eyes blazed as she got to her feet. “I'll be right back.”
“Please don’t get us fired on our first day,” Simone pleaded with a wicked look in her dark eyes. She loved the fact that the woman didn't fear anyone and said whatever came to her mind.
“I make no guarantees.”
*****
“He's on a call,” the prim faced assistant said to her as she came charging into the office.
“And I don't very well care about that,” Donna told her as she marched by her desk.
“Mrs. Hoffman you cannot go in there—”
“That’s right,” she said turning towards Jeanette. “My name is Donna Hoffman, which means I get to be treated differently. Don’t worry, I'll tell him to blame it all on me.” With that she pushed the doors open and stepped into the huge office, stepping down the three steps and onto the plush steel grey carpet that blended in with the walls. She'd been in his office once before and admired the large wraparound desk and the magnificent paintings on the walls, as well as the large fireplace and comfortable sofas strewn around. She also knew that the bathroom that adjoined the office was done in the same color and was larger than the bathroom she'd had at her house.
“Did I get this new appointment because I slept with you?” she demanded.
“I'll call you back.” He looked over at Jeanette, who was hovering at the door. “It’s fine, close the doors and give me a couple of minutes.” He waited until his assistant had closed the doors before he looked at her.
He'd left before her this morning and hadn't seen what she was wearing. The black wool dress clung to her generous frame and looked great against her skin. Her hair was caught back in an elegant chignon at the nape of her neck and big gold hoops dangled from her lobes. “I don’t come charging into your office and interrupting your work. I would appreciate you showing me the same courtesy,” he told her coolly.
“Courtesy? Don’t make me laugh. You mean the courtesy you showed by shooting down the very first idea I had? That courtesy?”
“Did you read my note?”
“The one that said this isn't the direction you want the company going in. That note?”
He pushed back his chair and strode over to the cabinet to pour a glass of orange juice. “Would you like some?” he asked politely.
“No, dammit! This is not a social call, Thomas. My proposal was a very good one and you declined it. I want to know why.”
“It wasn't ready. You need to do some more research before you put our name out there on social media. We have to get approval from the head of the charitable foundation.”
“You mean your mother,” she deduced astutely. “You know very well that I won't be getting that from her. She hates me and thinks that I'm a blemish on the good old Hoffman name.”
“You could sit down for a meeting with her and show her your ideas and go on from there,” he suggested as he walked back and sat at the front of his desk. He'd taken off his pinstriped jacket and loosened his tie a little bit, turning back the cuffs of his light green shirt. The look should have made him appear relaxed, but it did the opposite. His coffee brown hair was slightly tousled, and Donna felt the yearning for him so fiercely that it threw her for a moment.
“That woman would never agree to a meeting with me.”
“I'm sick and tired of the bickering!” He slammed the glass down onto the desk next to him and turned to look at her, his eyes blazing. “Find a way to get along with Mother and Talia. You need to be careful what comes out of your mouth because you're only adding to the problem.”
“Me?” She pointed to herself, her dark brown eyes hot as she walked towards him. “They provoke me because they think you're too good for me. I have to live in that mausoleum knowing that I'm not wanted. I'm certainly not going to go on my knees and kiss their white asses just because they think that I'm from a lower class and I don't deserve the esteemed Hoffman name—” She broke off with a gasp as his hands shot out and he clamped his fingers around her arms, pulling her towards him.