Chapter 3
EJ shifted back her office chair and pushed to her feet. “Here goes nothing, then.”
Jordan made a praying hands gesture. “I’ll be praying for you.”
“Thanks. I have a feeling I’ll need it.”
“You’ll be great. Besides, God is with you and you know you can always trust Him.”
She nodded, her tight bun hitting the collar of her black blazer. Again, the most overdressed person in the place, but today she had an extra-good reason. She was resigning, and this all had to go well.
She licked nervous lips as she passed into the hallowed grounds of Dean Donwell’s inner sanctum. She shot Maree, his middle-aged secretary, a small smile. Maree nodded back, pressed a buzzer, then said, “Miss Bennett is here.” She eyed EJ. “You may go in.”
Her chest was tight as she opened the door.
There was no guessing how Dean would take her resignation.
He might like to think he was a generous boss, and yes, yesterday’s bonus had proved that, but the man had proved to have a hair-trigger temper in the past. And while she’d never been on the receiving end of it, she had no desire to witness it firsthand at the last.
Dean was on the phone as she entered, the soft carpet making it hard to walk.
He nodded, gestured to a chair, which she lowered into, taking care to tug her skirt to her knees as she sat, legs together, angled to one side, in a pose her mother had said was like how Princess Diana always sat.
So if it was good enough for Princess Di …
Dean ended the call and frowned at her. “Well?”
Okay. Not exactly the graceful entry into a conversation on quitting she’d planned. She pushed her cheeks up into a smile. “Dean, you know I’ve been a loyal employee these past seven years.”
His brow furrowed. “Seven years already?”
She nodded. “You hired me when I was in the last year of my first degree.”
“Well, time’s flown, so you must’ve been having fun, right?”
“I have enjoyed my time here, sir.”
His eyebrows shot up, then slashed down. “Sir? So I gather this isn’t a conversation about how you also feel like your bonus could have been higher.”
“No.” Someone had done that? Whoever it was, she admired their audacity. “I wanted to speak to you about another matter.”
“I hope it isn’t that you feel ripped off because I didn’t ask you to manage the Montgomery account.”
She shook her head, although it had pained her to see that account go to Lionel.
“Well, then, what is it? Lionel said he didn’t know why you’d bypassed him and insisted on coming straight to me. You’re lucky my four o’clock cancelled.”
Lucky, or blessed, as Jordan had said when he’d learned there’d been an unexpected cancellation that allowed her to see Dean today. “Sounds like God’s timing to me,” he’d said.
“Well?” Dean demanded impatiently.
She lifted her chin but couldn’t fix Dean with the same kind of flinty stare that worked so well on Lionel and Dallas. “I wanted to offer you the courtesy of giving you my resignation face-to-face.”
“Your what?” he bellowed.
She kept her features fixed in a look she hoped passed as pleasant.
“Dean, I’ve been very grateful for the years I’ve worked here. But I feel like the season has come to an end, and I’m needing to invest my time elsewhere.”
He swore. “Who are you working for? Apple? Atlassian?”
“I’ll be working for Woodhouse-Knightley.” The company name she and Jordan had devised all those years ago in high school. The joint last names of the fictional heroine EJ had been named for, and Emma’s hero.
Dean’s eyebrows pushed together. “I haven’t heard of them. Who are they? American?”
“It’s an app development company,” she said carefully.
For all Dean’s focus on business, business, business and insistence on being up to date with the latest in the tech world, niche industries like dating apps weren’t likely to be on his radar.
And she was hoping his lack of knowledge about dating apps would mean he would let this go rather than refuse to accept her resignation.
Sure enough he looked perplexed. “Why would someone like you want to work for a company nobody has heard of?”
That was a compliment, she supposed. “I need a change, and like I said, I’m very grateful for all you’ve done—”
“I get it. You’re grateful for the opportunity, yada yada yada.”
This was going well.
“I can’t help but feel a little gobsmacked. This was out of the blue.”
“It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while.”
“Wait. Are you saying you’re already working there?”
This was so not going well. “It’s actually an app I’ve been working on for the past ten years, even before I started working here.”
His eyes widened. “And you never told me? Has this ever been a conflict of interest?”
“Never.”
As she went on to describe exactly what her dating app did, his face melded from concern to disbelief to something approaching derision. “Are you serious? You’re telling me that you’re a professional matchmaker.”
“Yes.”
He muttered a word not approved by her mother. “I never would’ve thought that you, of all people, would develop an app for the romance industry. You don’t exactly give off warm and fuzzy vibes.”
Wow. Rude. But also … fair.
He blew out a breath, watching her under creased brows. “I don’t like surprises, and this has proved a very unpleasant surprise.”
She pressed her lips together, hoping that Jordan’s prayers were working. “I can’t believe it, after all we’ve done for you,” he muttered.
Maybe it was time to try out a prayer of her own. Lord, can You help me, please?
Dean exhaled noisily, then shook his head. “Fine. Leave. But you know that if you leave, you’ll need to leave today. And that means walking straight out of here, no touching your computer.”
She’d expected that. Most tech companies had an exit clause that meant exactly that procedure, which was why she’d already retrieved everything she needed for her own work. “Dean, I wanted to thank you for the opportunity to work here over the years—”
“Don’t thank me. Not when you’re quitting. You’re leaving me in the lurch. You know that, don’t you?”
“Lionel is across everything I’ve been working on,” she said carefully. Lionel was supposed to be, anyway. Whether he actually understood it all was on him.
Dean sighed. “You’re sure there’s nothing I can do to keep you here?”
That was nice. “Thank you, but no.”
“Fine.” He stood, leaned across the desk, and held out his hand, which she shook. “You’re a class act, Miss Bennett. I’m sorry we won’t be seeing you in the office anymore.”
“I do appreciate the fact you gave me a chance all those years ago.”
“Seven years ago, wasn’t it? Too bad you won’t be getting your long service leave.” His nose wrinkled. “Don’t think it hasn’t escaped my notice you waited for your payment review bonus.”
“I learned a thing or two working here.”
His laughter held an edge, the sound ricocheting off the sharp glass angles of the room. “You’d better watch yourself, young lady. Impertinence only gets you so far.”
“It wasn’t meant to be impertinent,” she said. “Only honest.”
He shook his head, then pointed at the door. “Talk to Maree, get her to sort out what happens next. I can’t help but think that Lionel is going to have a meltdown once he hears this.”
She nodded. “That was my thought too.”
“You’re sure about leaving?”
“One hundred percent.” Not a niggle of doubt remained. This was right, and the fact Dean had a cancellation felt like even heaven was saying, “It’s high time.”
Which meant it was time to find Jordan, collect her personal belongings, and go celebrate.
The iron arms of the Sydney Harbour Bridge arced across the sunset, the reflection in the glass windows showcasing the beauty of the city.
She beamed at Jordan, her very soul tingling.
“I can’t believe we’re here at last.” Here in Sydney’s most iconic venue, feeling like she was right where she was meant to be.
Wattle Vale who? No, this was what she’d been born for.
“I tried to get a reservation in the restaurant, but it was fully booked. But hey, at least it’s better than a meat pie from Harry’s Café De Wheels, right?”
“So much better.” She took a sip of her drink, savouring the sweet taste and fruity decoration on the rim, dialling down her grin so she didn’t look Joker-like. People here were sophisticated, classy in that way she’d always wanted to be, in that way that small-town roots rarely allowed for.
She glanced around the space, the inside concrete of the iconic white sails having been sculpted to look like pipe organs before the large wall of windows highlighted Sydney’s city lights.
April was the middle of autumn, and now with daylight saving time having ended, darkness settled sooner, making the city sparkle in the evening.
Their position, right near a window and overlooking the restaurant below and a golden table tucked between the sail and window, seemed to provide a gold mine of guests of the rich and fabulous variety.
And while they might be walk-ins, she was here. At last!
“So I probably don’t need to ask how you feel, but I will anyway.” Jordan smiled. “How are you feeling?”
She sipped her Gondolier, the sweet fruity drink smooth and delicious. “I can’t believe how free I feel. Thank you so much for encouraging me to quit.”
“I don’t think you should be saying that too loudly.”
She laughed, but it was true. Dean might’ve taken the news surprisingly well, but she sure didn’t want life being made hard for Jordan, who would continue to work at Donwell. If word got out that he’d encouraged her to leave, then it might not go well for him.
“I’m so grateful.” She squeezed his arm, and he glanced at her, that serious look in his eye.
And sure, she needed to be careful and had zero desire to stir up anything, but come on.
Tonight was her first night of freedom, and a girl was entitled to let her hair down. She’d been playing safe for so long.