'Matt rang in first thing this morning. The kids have
brought a bug home from school and he's been throwing up
practically all night—he doesn't think he'll be back
until Friday at the earliest,' Judith explained apologetically.
It was much better that the head of the legal department
should stay at home rather than struggle into work and share
the virus with his colleagues. Jake had no problem with
that. He didn't bother asking about Adam, because he already
knew where Matt's second in command was. On paternity leave.
Babies and kids everywhere.
Everywhere except…
He pushed the thought away. With Matt away, he needed to
make alternative arrangements. 'So that leaves Lydia and Tim.'
'I'm sorry.' The secretary made a face, looking embarrassed.
'They're both at lunch right now.'
'Don't keep apologising. It's not your fault.' Jake frowned.
He could reschedule the trip to Norway, but he was keen to
get this deal sorted. And out of the two remaining members
of the legal team… Tim could talk the talk, all
right, but he didn't have Lydia's experience or knowledge,
and he was perhaps a little too hungry for results. Jake
needed someone calm, someone confident, someone who would
pay attention to detail.
'Lydia will have to do. Ask her to come and see me when she
gets back from lunch, would you, please?'
'Yes, Mr Ande—'
'Jake,' he cut in gently. 'We don't do formality at
Andersen's.' It was the first thing he'd changed, the day
his father retired and he took over as CEO: dropping the
formality and opening things up a bit. But, nearly two years
later, some of the staff still hadn't quite got used to
calling the boss by his first name.
'Yes, M—Jake,' the secretary corrected herself quickly.
'Thank you, Judith.' He gave her a swift smile, and headed
for his office.
Lydia will have to do.
That said it all.
And it rankled, even though Lydia acknowledged the justice
of the remark. Jakob Andersen was sharp enough to know
exactly what was going on in every single division of the
company. To know what every member of his staff was capable
of doing, to know what worked and what didn't, and where
things needed moving around. He'd spent six months working
in each department before he'd taken over as CEO, so he knew
what every part of the company did and what challenges his
employees faced. Anyone who'd been tempted to grumble that
he'd only walked into the job because he was the boss's son
had quickly changed their minds. Jake wasn't a delegator who
spent all his time wafting around or in long lunches. He was
a hands-on leader who saw what needed doing and made sure it
was done and, if need be, he rolled up his sleeves and did
it himself.
So doubtless he'd already spotted that Lydia Sheridan just
wasn't cut out to be a corporate lawyer.
Lydia had the right background and the right training. What
she didn't have was the shark instinct.
She'd been trying to kid herself for years. Trying to be the
child her parents had wanted. Trying to be the person
everyone else wanted her to be. Now, maybe, she thought, it
was time to stop trying and just be herself.
So she would go to see Jake, at his request. But she had a
feeling that he wasn't going to like what she was going to
say. Because Lydia Sheridan wasn't going to 'do' at all.
'Oh, good, Lydia, you're back,' Judith said as she walked
into the reception area. 'The CEO just came by—he
wants to see you asap.'
'Sure.' Lydia summoned a smile. It wasn't Judith's fault
that Lydia wasn't cut out for her job, so she wasn't going
to take out her frustrations on the departmental secretary.
'I'll go now.'
When she reached Jake's office, his door was wide open, but
she knocked anyway.
He looked up from his desk. 'Come in. Take a seat.'
As always, she found herself assessing him, itching to pick
up pastels and a sketchpad and start drawing him. Jakob
Andersen was simply beautiful. His piercing blue eyes
demanded—no, commanded—attention and,
teamed with his dark spiky hair and pale Nordic skin, were
absolutely stunning. Though his face was maybe a little too
thin and angular, and the slight dark smudges beneath his
eyes said that he drove himself too hard. Since his
two-month sabbatical, eighteen months before, he'd put in
ridiculous hours. From what Lydia had heard, he was always
the first one in the office and the last to leave.
What was he running from?
Not that it was any of her business. Besides, she wasn't
supposed to be wool-gathering. He'd summoned her, which no
doubt meant he needed her to sort out some legal nicety for him.
She sat down on the chair he'd indicated. 'Judith said you
wanted to see me.'
'I have to go to Norway tomorrow to sort out some contracts.
I need you to come with me.'
Abrupt and straight to the point.
Only… she wasn't quite buying this. Not after what
she'd heard him say to Judith. And, given the reason she'd
already decided to see him, she didn't need to be polite and
pussyfoot around. She could be just as straight—all
the way back. 'You need me.'
He frowned, clearly picking up the scorn in her tone. 'Yes.'
'That's a bit hard to believe,' she said.
His frown deepened. 'Meaning?'
'I overheard you saying that I'd have to do.'
He leaned back in his chair and raked a hand through his
hair. 'Ah. That.'
At least he wasn't denying it.
'Actually, I didn't mean it quite in that way,' he said.
'No?'
'No. I admit, you're not my first choice,' he said. 'I'd
arranged to go with Matt, but he's off sick and Adam's away.
I know that both of them have dealt with this kind of thing
before, and Matt speaks Norwegian, so it would have saved
some time. But it's no matter. I'll translate for you, where
necessary.'
'There's no need.'
It was his turn to question her. 'You speak Norwegian?'
'No. I was going to come and see you anyway, this
afternoon,' she said quietly. 'To hand in my notice.'
He blinked, obviously taken by surprise. 'Why?'
'Because you're right. I'm not cut out to be a corporate
lawyer.'
'I didn't say that. At all.' He looked straight at
her. 'Your work is meticulous, Lydia.'
Because she made damn sure it was. It was a point of pride.
Her work wasn't the problem. She was. 'I'm not like
Tim—I'm not hungry to win.'
'Tim,' he said, 'would be completely the wrong lawyer for
this deal. He needs to tone down.'
What? Weren't all corporate lawyers supposed to be driven,
hungry for success? 'How do you mean, tone down?' she asked
carefully.
'He needs to be able to sum up a situation quickly and know
the right tactics to use—when to take it softly and
when to push. If you go in with high-pressure tactics in
Norway, you'll lose out. I need someone who's calm and
competent, who knows the facts and will cut through the
hype, and who'll meet deadlines and commitments.' He ticked
the requirements off on his fingers. 'Someone
straightforward. From what Matt tells me of your work,
you're perfectly capable of all that, or you wouldn't be
working at Andersen's.' His gaze met hers. 'Your problem is,
you lack confidence.'
How would he know? Although she was aware that he'd spent
time working in the legal department, it had been before
she'd joined the company. She'd only ever worked with him on
projects as part of a larger team, never one-to-one.
Before she had the chance to protest, he added, 'You're good
enough to do the job; you just don't think you are. You need
to work on that. I'll tell Adam to add that to your
objectives at your next appraisal and send you on some
assertive -ness training.'
Businesslike and to the point. And Lydia felt as if she'd
been steamrollered. This wasn't how the conversation was
supposed to go. At all. He thought she'd got cold feet, was
having a minor confidence wobble? That wasn't the half of
it. 'I was trying to resign,' she reminded him.
'I know. And I'm not accepting your resignation. Apart from
the fact that the legal team is under strength right
now— so it'd put us in a mess if I let you
go—you do your job well. So there's no reason for you
to leave.' He rested both elbows on his desk, steepling his
fingers, and looked her straight in the eye. 'Unless you've
had a better offer elsewhere?'
This was her cue to negotiate a pay rise. To claim that
she'd been offered a huge salary and longer holidays with a
rival company, so Jake would offer to match the deal.
Except… She wasn't a shark.
This wasn't about negotiating more money.
This was about facing what she'd known even before she took
the job. About finding her real place in the world. The
timing was all wrong, she knew—who in their right mind
would leave a steady job to chase a dream, in the middle of
a recession?
But it wasn't as if she had any dependants.
And she had savings.
She'd manage.
'No, I haven't had a better offer,' she said quietly. At
least, not 'better' in the way that any businessman would
see it.
Concern flickered in his face. 'Is there a problem you're
not telling me about? Harassment of any sort?'
'Of course not.' She found Tim a bit wearing, for precisely
the reasons that Jake had outlined, but she enjoyed working
with Matt and Adam.
'Then I don't see any reason for you to resign. Except maybe
the fact that you're undervaluing yourself.'
Maybe she was. Which was why she'd become a lawyer in the
first place. In some ways, although it had meant years of
hard work, it had been an easier option. Easier to give in
instead of being stubborn and holding out for what she knew
she really wanted out of life. To paint. She'd wanted to
paint for years, but when she'd told her parents she wanted
to take Art as one of her A levels they'd reacted badly. Why
would the daughter of a QC and a top solicitor want to
become an artist—to go and starve in a Parisian
garret, doing a job that wouldn't even pay her rent?
Ridiculous. And they'd refused to listen to her art teacher,
too.
So she'd tried to please them. She'd studied History and
Economics and Law, ending up with top marks and a place to
read law at university. She'd trained as a solicitor and
found herself a job as a corporate lawyer.
And she'd kept her sketching a secret between herself and
her godmother, Polly.
'I don't want to be a lawyer any more,' she said.
He leaned back in his chair. 'You've fallen out of love with
your job? It happens.'
He actually seemed to understand—and she really hadn't
expected that. So Jake knew other people who'd reached a
point in their career where they just stopped wanting to do it?
Almost as if she'd asked the question out loud, he said,
'Been there, done that, myself.' For a brief moment, there
was something in his eyes, but he'd masked it before she
could read it. 'And the way round it is to give yourself a
new challenge. I think this job might do that for you.'
She wasn't convinced. She'd stopped loving what she did a
long time ago. If she was honest, she'd never really loved
it in the first place. She'd just done it because she'd
thought it was the right thing to do.
And over the years it had begun to feel so very much the
wrong thing. She didn't see how she could ever fall in love
with her job again. 'What if it doesn't?'
'Do this one job for me,' he said, 'and if you still feel
the same way afterwards, then I'll accept your
resignation— backdated to today.'
Put that way, it seemed reasonable. And what difference
would another few days make? All right.'
He glanced at his watch. 'I imagine this gives you enough
time to rearrange your meetings for the next couple of days?'
'Yes.'
'Good. Now, clothes.' He appraised her. 'Your suit's fine
for business. We'll be in the south of the country, so it
won't be quite as cold as the north, but you'll still need a
windproof coat and boots—do you have any?'
Jake clearly didn't believe in social chat. And this was the
longest conversation Lydia could remember having with him.
It was the only meeting she'd had with him, one-to-one, in
the three years she'd been working at Andersen's; though she
remembered he'd been just as incisive in the presentations
and meetings she'd attended along with Matt or Adam.
'Coat and boots?' he repeated, raising his eyebrows.
Oh, great. Now he'd think she had the attention span of a
gnat. 'Yes, I have a coat and boots.'
'Good.'
'How long are we going for?'
'Until Friday—though if there are complications we
might need to work on Saturday morning and fly back on
Sunday. Have you been to Norway before?'
'No. Though I've always wanted to see the fjords and the
Northern Lights,' she admitted. To sketch them—to
capture the pure, clean Nordic light in pastels.
He regarded her thoughtfully. 'If you wanted to stay for a
couple of days afterwards and take the chance to do a bit of
sightseeing, I can arrange for you to have an open return
flight. Andersen's will pick up your hotel bill, to make up
for eating into your weekend and evenings.'
That was an offer she definitely wasn't going to refuse.
'Thank you. I appreciate that. Though I'd better call Matt
and check it's OK for me to take time off next week.'
'Sure. I'll get Ingrid to sort out the travel details and
let you know what's happening.'
It was a dismissal. Polite enough, but still a dismissal.
She smiled politely, and left his office.
Jake couldn't settle back to work when Lydia had gone; every
time he looked at the figures on his computer screen, his
mind kept supplying a picture of Lydia.
On the face of it, Lydia Sheridan was the perfect corporate
lawyer, with her power business suit, her mid-brown hair
groomed into a sleek, shiny bob, and the 'barely there'
makeup that told you she was serious rather than playing up
her feminine charms.
She looked the part. He knew that she could certainly do the
part; Matt had said several times that Lydia quietly picked
up details other people missed.
But something in her dark eyes had told him that it wasn't
who she was.
She'd even said it herself: I don't want to be a lawyer
any more.
Ha. He knew that crossroads well. The point in your life
when you wondered if you'd wasted years doing something you
hadn't really wanted to do all along—something you
just didn't want to do any more. The point in your life
where you wondered just what it was that you really, really
wanted.