One Night with a Gorgeous Greek: Doukakis's Apprentice / Not Just the Greek's Wife / After the Greek Affair

‘He’s a lovely man but he’s not a very good accountant. He won’t last five minutes if Damon Doukakis decides to analyse what he does.’ Overwhelmed with the responsibility, Polly carefully slid the photographs into an envelope. ‘I’m sure the Doukakis financial department are killer-sharp, like the boss. They’re not going to be impressed when they see Mr Foster using a pen and a calculator. It will destroy him to lose his job.’

‘Maybe he won’t. You’ve been teaching him to use a spreadsheet.’

‘Yes, but it’s slow going. Every morning I have to go back over what we did the day before. I was hoping we could sneak him past the inquisition without anyone actually wanting to know what he does but it isn’t going to be easy. I bet Doukakis knows if his staff stop to draw breath.’ The responsibility swamped her. ‘Debs, we can’t give him a reason to let anyone go. Everyone has to pull their weight and if they can’t pull their weight then we have to cover for them.’

‘So this probably isn’t a good time to tell you that Kim’s child-minder is sick. She’s brought the baby into the office because that’s what she always does, but …’ Debbie’s voice tailed off. ‘I’m guessing Damon doesn’t have a soft spot for babies.’

Swamped by the volume of work facing her, Polly tipped the contents of a drawer into the box without bothering to sort it. ‘Tell Kim to quietly take the rest of the day working from home, but get her to try and find childcare for tomorrow.’

‘And if she can’t?’

‘We’ll give her an office and she can hide in there. I suppose it’s a waste of time asking if my father has phoned? I’m going to fit him with an electronic tagging device. Did you phone any of those hotels I gave you?’

‘All of them. Nothing.’

‘I wouldn’t put it past him to have bribed some blonde hotel manager to keep his booking quiet.’ Polly put the photographs into a box. ‘We need to get the rest of this packed up. The barbarian hoards from Doukakis Media Group are going to be descending on us any minute to help us move.’

‘The takeover is headlines on the BBC. You dad must know by now.’

Polly paused to swallow two painkillers with a glass of water. ‘I don’t think he’s exactly watching television, Debs.’

‘Do you have any idea who he’s with this time?’

Yes.

Her father was with Arianna, a girl young enough to be his daughter.

Humiliation crawled up her spine as she anticipated the predictable reaction from everyone around her. Polly was no more eager to share the information with the world than Damon Doukakis.

For once in his life, couldn’t her father have picked someone closer to his own age?

‘I try not to think about my father’s love-life.’ Dodging the question, she crammed the lid onto the box. ‘I just don’t see how we can move our entire office in the space of a few hours. I’m exhausted. All I want to do is go to bed and catch up on sleep.’

‘So go to bed. You know how chilled your dad is about flexitime. He always says if the staff don’t want to be there, there’s no point in them being there.’

‘Unfortunately Damon Doukakis is about as chilled as the Amazon jungle. And he wants me in his office at two o’clock.’

Debbie’s eyes widened. ‘What for?’

‘He wants me to start working for my money.’

Debbie stared at her for a moment and then burst out laughing. ‘Sorry, but that’s so funny. Did you tell him the truth?’

‘What’s the point? He’d never believe me and he’s made it his personal mission in life to make my life hell.’ Polly ripped off a piece of tape and slammed her foot down on the bulging box to flatten the lid. ‘So far he’s succeeding beyond his wildest fantasies.’

Debbie picked up a stack of prospectuses from universities. ‘What do you want me to do with these?’

Polly stared at them and felt slightly strange. ‘Just shred them.’ If Damon Doukakis found those on her desk, he’d laugh at her. ‘Get rid of them. I should never have sent off for them in the first place.’

‘But you’ve always said that what you want more than anything is to—’

‘I said, shred them.’ She resisted the impulse to grab them and stow them carefully in a box. What was the point? ‘It was just a stupid dream.’

A really crazy dream.

Numb, she watched as her hopes and dreams were shredded alongside the paper.

Five hours later, exhausted from having supervised the packing of the entire building and seen the staff safely into the coaches laid on to transfer them to their new offices, Polly took her first step into the plush foyer of the Doukakis Tower. The centrepiece was the much talked about water feature, a bubbling monument to corporate success, blending seamlessly with acres of glass and marble. Blinded by architectural perfection, Polly could see why the building was one of London’s most talked about landmarks.

Directed to the fortieth floor by the stunning blonde on the futuristic curved reception desk, she walked towards the glass-fronted express elevator. From behind her she heard the bright-voiced receptionist answer the phone. ‘DMG Corporate, Freya speaking, how may I help you?’

You can’t, Polly thought gloomily. No one can help me now. I’m doomed.

Everywhere she looked there was evidence of the Doukakis success story.

Used to staring at a crumbling factory wall from her tiny office window, she felt her jaw drop in amazement as she saw the view from the elevator.

Through the glass she could see the River Thames curving in a ribbon through London and to her right the famous circle of London Eye with the Houses of Parliament in the distance. It was essentially a huge glass viewing capsule, as stunning and contemporary as the rest of the building. Damon Doukakis might be ruthless, she thought faintly, but he had exceptional taste.

Depressed by the contrast between his achievements and their comparative failure, Polly turned away from the view and tried not to think what it would be like to work for a company as progressive as this one. Everyone employed by him probably had a business degree, she thought enviously.

No wonder he’d been less than impressed with her.

She stared at herself in one of the two mirrored panels that bordered the doors of the elevator and wondered how she could prove to him that she knew what she was doing.

She was now working for the most notoriously demanding boss in the city of London. She still wasn’t really sure why he’d kept her on instead of just firing her along with the board. Presumably because he saw her as his only possible link with her father.

Or possibly just to torture her.

Once the shock of seeing the board of directors leave the building had faded, the staff had erupted into whoops of joy, relieved to still have their jobs. Surprisingly, even the thought of moving to new offices didn’t seem to disturb people. Everyone seemed excited about the prospect of a move to more exciting surroundings.

The only person not celebrating was Polly.

She didn’t know much about Damon Doukakis, but she knew that he didn’t do anyone favours. He was keeping people on for a reason, not out of kindness. When it suited him to let them go, he’d let them go. Unless she could persuade him that the staff were worth keeping.

All morning she’d multitasked, talking to clients via her wireless headset while packing up boxes and masterminding the move. Somewhere in the middle of the chaos she’d stripped off her pink tights and replaced them with black leggings. It was her one and only concession to the strict Doukakis dress code.

Now, she wondered if she should have avoided conflict altogether and worn a suit. Trying to summon sufficient energy to get through the rest of the day, she slapped her cheeks to produce some colour and ignored the hideous squirming in her stomach.

First days, she thought grimly. She hated first days. It was like being back at school. Whispers behind her back. Is that her? The humiliation of her father driving her to school in a flashy car with his latest embarrassingly young wife installed in the front seat. Giggles heard across the length of a playground. Mysterious collisions in the corridor that sent her books flying and her self-esteem plummeting. Standing alone in the lunch queue and then finding an empty table and trying to look as though eating alone was a choice, not a sentence.

Polly glared at her reflection in the mirror. If those days had taught her anything it was how to survive. No matter what happened, she was not going to let Damon Doukakis close down the company. Not without a fight.

Somehow, she had to impress him.

Wondering how on earth you impressed a man like Damon Doukakis, she pressed the button for the executive floor and the doors of the elevator slid closed. But at the last minute a gloved male hand clamped itself around the door and they opened again.

Her hope for two minutes peace dashed, Polly squashed herself back against the far corner as a man dressed in motorbike leathers strode into the lift. She caught a glimpse of wide, powerful shoulders and realised that it was Damon Doukakis himself.

Their eyes clashed and she had a sudden urge to bolt from the lift and use the stairs.

The temperature in the tiny capsule suddenly shot up.

He didn’t even have to open his mouth, she thought desperately. Even the way he stood was intimidating. Irritated by the fact that he looked as good in leather as he did in fine wool, Polly raised an eyebrow.

‘I thought we were supposed to wear suits?’

‘I had a meeting across town. I used the motorbike.’ He wore his masculinity like a banner, overt and unapologetic, and Polly was horrified to feel her insides liquefy.

‘So you don’t change into leather just to beat your staff.’

The glance he sent in her direction was both a threat and a warning. ‘When I start beating my staff,’ he said silkily, ‘you’ll be the first to know because you’ll be right at the top of my list. Perhaps if you’d had some discipline at fourteen you wouldn’t have turned out to be such a disaster. Evidently your father didn’t ever learn to say no to you.’

Polly didn’t tell him that her father had abdicated parental responsibility right from the beginning. ‘He had trouble handling me.’

‘Well, I won’t have trouble.’ His tone lethally soft, he took in her appearance in a single glance. ‘I’ll give you marks for being on time and for changing out of those fluorescent tights.’

For some reason she couldn’t fathom, his derision brought a lump to her throat. She had blisters on her hands from carrying boxes that were too heavy, her feet ached, her back ached, and she hadn’t slept in her bed for four nights. And just to add to her frustration her phone had stopped ringing. All morning clients had called her, but now, when she was desperate for a senior client to ring her for advice so that she could sound impressive and prove to Damon just how good she was at her job, it remained silent.

And there was no point in telling him, was there? He’d made up his mind about her based on that episode in her teens and the state of her father’s company.

The whole situation was made a thousand times worse by the fact that a small part of her knew she was deserving of his contempt. It was because of her that Arianna had been excluded from school. It didn’t surprise her that he had such a low opinion of her. What surprised her was how much she cared. It shouldn’t matter what he thought of her. All that mattered now were the jobs of the innocent people who worked for her father.

‘The headlines on the one o’clock news were pretty brutal. They’re calling you the hatchet man.’

‘Good. Perhaps it will bring your father out of hiding.’ His sensuous mouth curved into a grim smile as he hit a button on the panel and sent the lift gliding upwards.

Transfixed by his mouth, Polly felt her stomach drop. His features were boldly masculine, from the hard lines of his bone structure to the subtle shadow that darkened his jaw. Desperate, she looked for evidence of weakness but found none. ‘My father isn’t hiding.’

‘Miss Prince—’ his voice was a soft, dangerous purr ‘—unless you want to experience first-hand experience of the impact of my temper in an enclosed space, I suggest you don’t force me to think about what your father might currently be doing.’

Polly instinctively retreated against the glass. ‘I’m just saying he isn’t hiding, that’s all. My father isn’t a coward.’ London slowly grew smaller and smaller until it lay beneath them like a miniature toy town. By contrast, the tension in the capsule rocketed.

‘He’s allowed his business to decline rather than make the difficult decisions that should have been made. He needed to make serious cuts but he chose not to do it. If that isn’t cowardice, I don’t know what is.’

‘You shouldn’t make judgements on something you know nothing about.’

‘I run a multinational corporation. I make difficult decisions every day of my life.’ His innate superiority infuriated her almost as much as the fact that he was right. Her father should have made some difficult decisions. But the fact that it was Damon Doukakis who was now pointing that out somehow made it more difficult to hear.

‘I’m sure it gives you a real feeling of power to fire people.’

It happened so fast she didn’t see him move, but one moment she was standing with an aerial view of London and the next she was staring at wide shoulders and a pair of fiercely angry eyes. ‘Never before have I had to restrain myself around a woman, but with you—’ He drew in a shaky breath, clearly struggling with the intensity of his own emotions. ‘You are enough to provoke a saint. Trust me when I say you do not want a demonstration of my power.’

Polly stared at him in appalled fascination, wondering why everyone thought he was Mr Cool. He was the most volatile man she’d met. He simmered like a pan of water kept permanently on the boil. And he smelt incredible … ‘I was just making the point that you really work this whole I’m-the-boss-and-you’re-going-to-do-it-my-way routine.’ Please let him step away from her before she gave into the temptation to bury her face in his neck and just breathe. ‘We’re used to a more relaxed approach when we work. Frankly I’m not sure how well we’ll do under a reign of terror.’

Outrage rippled across his shoulders and his jaw clenched. ‘That relaxed approach has sent your company plunging towards bankruptcy. If any redundancies come from this disaster then you and your father will be responsible.’

Brain-dead with exhaustion, Polly felt a perverse sense of satisfaction at seeing him so angry. She wanted him to suffer too. Not just for giving her the most hellish week of her life, but also because she had a desperate urge to crush her mouth to his and feeling that way aggravated her in the extreme. ‘You’re obviously not enjoying having us as part of your business,’ she said sweetly. ‘Next time perhaps you should check out your prey before you swallow it. We’re obviously giving you indigestion.’

He released her as suddenly as he’d trapped her, stepping back with an exclamation in Greek that she was sure wasn’t complimentary.

‘The press have somehow guessed that your father and my sister are together.’ Lifting a hand, he yanked down the zip of his jacket as if it were strangling him. ‘Unless you enjoy fuelling gossip, I suggest you don’t talk to them. I’ve instructed my people to put out a statement on the takeover, concentrating on our corporate vision and goals. I’m trying to focus attention on the fact that your company fits logically within my current business.’

‘You mean you don’t want to admit publicly you’re a megalomaniac who bought a company just so that you could threaten the man having a relationship with your sister.’ But she was horrified by the news that the press now had the story. She knew it wouldn’t be long before they were digging for reasons and she didn’t even want to think about what that would mean. She’d been there before and she loathed it. Everyone wanting to know how it felt to have a stepmother the same age as her. Everyone appalled and fascinated by the ridiculous antics of her father.

‘Take a tip from me, Miss Prince.’ Those thick dark lashes descended until the look in his eyes was virtually obscured ‘even in this age of sexual equality, no real man wants to spend time with a bitch or a ball breaker. Try and cultivate a softer, more feminine side and who knows? You might find yourself a boyfriend. Possibly even one who owns a company that you can play in.’

Polly was so shocked she couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what appalled her most. The fact that he had this entrenched image of her as a lazy waste of space, the fact that he’d clearly asked someone about her sex-life, or the fact that part of her was wondering how he kissed.

Putting it down to tiredness, she promised herself a really early night. ‘I’d never be interested in a man who couldn’t cope with a strong woman.’

‘There’s strong and then there’s strident, which is presumably why you’re still single.’

Only the knowledge that she’d be confirming his less than flattering assessment of her prevented her from launching herself at him. Instead she smarted furiously and kept her eyes fixed on the streets shrinking beneath their feet. This is good, she told herself. If he keeps this up all I’m going to want to do to him is kill him and that feels better than sizzling chemistry. ‘If the doors opened to the outside, I’d push you.’

His laugh lacked humour. ‘If I thought we’d be working together for long, I’d jump.’

Boiling inside, Polly was saved from thinking up a response by the muted ‘ping’ of the doors as they glided silently apart, revealing a cavernous, light-filled office space.

Damon propelled her forward and she stepped into an open-plan office area like nothing she’d ever seen before.

Taken aback, momentarily forgetting their heated exchange, she stopped walking and just stared.

Despite everything she’d heard and read about Damon Doukakis, nothing had prepared her for the bustling efficiency of the Doukakis corporate headquarters. ‘Oh …’ She looked at the bank of desks, each with a video phone, a laptop plug-in and a printer. Most were occupied and there was no questioning the industry of those working. Barely anyone looked up from what they were doing. ‘Where—?’ Puzzled, she turned her head and looked around her at the clean, uncluttered workspace. ‘Where’s their stuff? Where do they keep books, magazines, family pictures—personal things. It’s all very Spartan.’

‘We operate a hot desk system.’

Her mind preoccupied, Polly suddenly had an image of everyone burning themselves when they sat down to work. ‘Hot desk?’

‘Employees don’t have their own fixed office space. They come in and sit at whichever work station is free. Office space is our most expensive asset and most offices only use fifty percent of their capacity at any one time. We lease the lower ten floors of this building. It’s a highly profitable way of maximising the space.’

‘So people don’t actually have their own desks? That’s awful.’ Genuinely appalled, Polly tried to envisage her friends and colleagues existing in such a sterile environment. ‘But what if someone wants to put up a photograph of their baby or something?’

‘When they’re at work they should be working. They can stare at the real live baby on their own time.’ Damon Doukakis urged her through the floor, occasionally pausing to exchange a word with someone.

Polly examined the faces of the people, wondering what it must be like working in such soulless surroundings. Granted, you could have sold tickets to look at the view from the windows, but nothing about the office space was cosy. ‘There’s nothing personal anywhere.’

‘People are here to do a job. They have everything they need to do that job. People who work for me are adaptable. Technology allows for workforce mobility. Commuting is time-consuming and expensive. I’d rather my people worked an extra two hours than spent those hours sitting in traffic. Some people work flexible hours—start late, finish late. They’ll be sitting down at a desk when another person is leaving it. If they’re out of the country for a meeting, then the desk is used by someone else. This is the office template of the future.’

Except that Damon Doukakis had brought the future into the present.

Polly thought about the office she’d just left. Until they’d been forced to strip it bare, the walls had been covered in framed copies of their advertising campaigns, photographs and pictures of past office parties. On her desk she’d kept numerous objects that cheered her up and made her smile. And she had Romeo and Juliet.

Here, there were no walls on which to put photographs. No cosy staffroom with soft armchairs and a gurgling coffee machine. Everywhere she looked there was chrome, glass and an industrious silence.

Hoping fish weren’t afraid of heights, she stared around her. ‘So is this going to be our floor?’

‘No. I’m showing you an example of efficiency in action. Take a good look around, Miss Prince. This is how a successful company looks. To you it probably feels like landing on an alien planet.’ His sensuous mouth curved into a sardonic smile. ‘In order to cause minimum disruption to the rest of my operation I’ve allocated a separate floor to your operation.’ Without waiting for her response, he pushed open a door and took the stairs two at a time. Polly poked her tongue out at his back and followed more slowly, envying his athleticism.

Following him through another set of doors, she found herself on another floor, completely circled in glass.

All the boxes and equipment had already been transferred from her old offices and the staff of Prince Advertising were laughing and joking together as they unpacked.

As they waved to her, Polly felt her eyes sting. They were so optimistic and excited. They had no idea how fragile their future was.

The responsibility almost flattened her.

‘This is yours.’ Damon gestured across the floor with his hand. ‘There are meeting rooms over there, all of which can be used for sensitive phone calls that can’t be made in open plan.’ As he finished speaking the lift doors opened and Polly saw Debbie and Jen stagger out of the lift carrying boxes. After a series of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ as they saw the view, they put down the boxes.

‘This is the last of it. Now we can start settling in. Won’t take us long to make the place home. Not that my home looks anything like this,’ Debbie said cheerfully. ‘Where’s the kettle?’

Polly caught sight of the shock in Damon Doukakis’s eyes and realised that the only way she was going to stand a chance of preserving jobs was if she kept everyone as far away from the boss as possible. She had to protect them. ‘Mr Doukakis, I haven’t had a chance to send that presentation through to you. I copied it onto a flash drive so you can open it up on your own computer. Debs, if you could supervise the unpacking, that would be great.’

‘Sure thing. I’ll have to work out which of the plants like sunlight because there’s a lot of sunlight in this building.’ Deb tugged off her shoes and prepared to get stuck into the work. ‘This place is epic.’

‘Whatever you need to do.’ Deciding that the reason the staff appeared to have no internal radar warning them of danger was because they’d worked for her father for so long, Polly frantically tried to distract their new boss. ‘Perhaps we should have the meeting in your office as there is going to be some disruption on this floor.’

‘Disruption appears to be a comfortable working environment for you. Are those—’ he did a double take as Debbie reached into another box and, together with Jen, lifted out a huge bucket ‘—fish?’

Oh, God…

‘You gave us four hours’ notice of an office move,’ Polly muttered. ‘There wasn’t time to negotiate relocation. We’ll have the tank set up in no time and no one is even going to know they’re here.’

‘Tank?!’

‘You’re the one who insisted the whole company move here. The fish are part of the company.’

‘You keep fish?’

‘Look at it this way. They’re not going to bother anyone and you don’t have to pay them. They’re motivational without being costly.’

Her feeble attempt to lighten the situation fell flat. Damon Doukakis didn’t smile. Instead he turned his gaze on Polly. Silence spread across the room and Polly was hideously aware that everyone was listening.

The atmosphere changed from one of carnival to one of consternation.

Pinned by that intense, dark stare Polly felt his disapproval slam into her with lethal force.

‘My office,’ he growled. ‘Right now.’