Desire of a Highlander (Arch Through Time #29)

Chapter 1

Elodie MacNeil realized she was chewing her thumbnail again and forced herself to stop. She glanced at her watch. Twenty minutes late already! Were they just going to keep her sitting here all morning?

As if sensing her impatience, the receptionist said, “They won’t be long now, I’m sure.”

Elodie smiled and nodded, then turned in the plush, over-stuffed chair and gazed out of the window. She was four floors up, in the waiting room of the headquarters of Cross Construction, and from here she could look out over the city and see it spread out before her like a map.

How many of those buildings were built by Cross Construction?

she wondered. Lots. Certainly enough to make Cross Construction one of the wealthiest firms in the area.

And how many other people had they walked over in order to turn a profit?

The thought brought the familiar anger, but she tamped it down with an effort.

Going in there angry was not a good idea.

But how was she supposed to keep her mouth shut when she saw something she knew was wrong? She couldn’t. Which is why she was up here now, waiting for the head honchos of Cross Construction to deign to speak to her following the report she’d sent them three days ago.

Her phone beeped suddenly, and she dug it out of her pocket. A message from Carla flashed up on the screen. Did you order the flyers? We’re meeting at 2.30 to get everything organized for the fundraiser.

Elodie groaned inwardly. No, she’d not ordered the flyers. With the million other things going on, she’d completely forgotten.

She fired back a quick message. Of course. No worries. See you at the community center at 2.30.

Then she quickly logged onto the mail company’s website and ordered the flyers she’d been meaning to order for the past week.

This done, she leaned back in her chair and sighed.

Her fingers started thrumming against her thigh as her eyes swiveled up to the clock.

Twenty-five minutes late! Were they doing this on purpose?

Who was she kidding? Of course they were.

Finally, the door opened, and a man with a neatly trimmed beard stuck his head out. “Miss MacNeil? We’re ready for you now.”

Elodie shot to her feet and followed him through the large, polished door, which clicked shut behind her with a strange sense of finality.

She found herself in a smart, ultra-modern boardroom.

Floor-to-ceiling windows took up one wall, and a bright yellow table filled most of the space.

Along the far wall were smart boards and projection equipment for giving presentations, and the five people seated around the table were wearing casual clothes rather than the sharp business suits that might be expected from the executives of one of the biggest companies in the district.

Yes, all in all, Cross Construction was working very hard to portray an image of an up-to-date, finger on the pulse business.

But Elodie knew better.

When she’d walked into this boardroom on her first day on the job as project manager for their North Houses construction site over on the north side of the city, she’d bought into the ethos as much as anyone.

It had been exciting to be recruited by such a forward-thinking company, one that really wanted to make a difference.

One that was committed to building the affordable, eco-friendly housing that was so badly needed in the area. What an idiot she’d been.

“Good morning, Elodie,” said Marcus Cross, CEO of Cross Construction. In his early thirties, he was wearing a crisp white shirt with the top button undone and the sleeves rolled up to give that half-tousled casual look. “Please. Take a seat.”

Elodie slid into one of the yellow chairs. “Morning, Marcus. Everyone. So. What did you make of my report?”

Marcus smiled thinly. “Straight down to business, eh?”

“You know me, Marcus.” She glanced at the others seated around the table.

Marcus’s cousin, Amy Cross, sat next to him, watching Elodie carefully.

The head of finance at Cross Construction, she was a shrewd businesswoman who didn’t mince her words or suffer fools gladly.

Elodie had always kind of liked her. The other three Elodie didn’t know so well and had only met occasionally.

“We read your report with interest,” Marcus said smoothly. “And are pleased that you brought your concerns to us.”

Elodie waited. When nothing else was forthcoming, she prompted, “And? What are you going to do about it?”

Marcus glanced at the others. “We’ve looked closely at your concerns and cross-referenced with the local planning guidelines, and I’m afraid we’ve found nothing wrong.”

Elodie stared at him. Had she just heard that right? “I beg your pardon? You found nothing wrong?”

Marcus nodded. “The project looks to be on track to deliver exactly what we asked for.”

“What you asked for?” Elodie echoed incredulously.

“When you hired me to manage this project, it was for a development of affordable, sustainable housing. That is not what is being built in North Houses! The contractors haven’t installed any of the low-carbon measures that were agreed, and the level of luxury they’re going for in the bathrooms and kitchens means they will not be affordable.

That development is just going to be another bunch of soulless, executive homes that only the wealthy can afford! ”

Marcus glanced at Amy. The executives shifted uncomfortably. Then Amy cleared her throat.

“Things have changed since those plans were submitted. The economic outlook has become more...volatile. If we want to bring this project in on budget, we had no choice but to make those changes.”

“Things are always economically volatile!” Elodie shot back. “You know we’ve had local families on the waiting list for those houses for months—local families who won’t’ be able to afford them if you insist on this change of direction.”

Amy shrugged. “That is...unfortunate. It really is. But I’m afraid our choices must be dictated by market conditions.”

“Don’t give me ‘market conditions’!” Elodie snapped.

“You’re not the one who will have to go back to those people and tell them that they won’t be able to afford their dream home anymore because of ‘market conditions’.

You’ll just sit up here in your ivory tower and count the money that comes pouring in! ”

Elodie knew she was doing it again—her mouth running away with her before her brain had a chance to intervene.

But she was so sick of this! So sick of the little guys getting trodden on by the big ones.

So sick of corporate greed dressed up as economics.

When she’d agreed to this job, she’d thought she’d finally found a company that agreed with her ethics. More fool her, eh?

“Elodie,” Marcus said, his tone stiffening a little. “We hired you because you are the best project manager in the business. You are a professional. You know as well as I do that projects rarely run smoothly and almost always have to adapt. That’s all we’re doing here.”

Elodie scowled at him. “I think that in my contract you’ll find it said I’m the project manager of a social housing enterprise, not an executive development for people with more money than sense!”

“That’s true, but I think you’ll also find that there is a clause in your contract that says that as project manager it’s your duty to manage the project in whatever manner is necessary to meet its objectives.

Well, the objectives have changed, but your obligations haven’t.

If you want to keep working for us, then you’ll need to accept those new objectives. ”

Elodie didn’t miss the threat in Marcus’s words.

Anger seethed through her. If there was one thing that Elodie hated more than anything, it was people who thought they could bully others into doing what they wanted.

Okay, so Marcus was rich. So what? All his money and influence had been inherited from his parents.

Elodie wondered if he’d ever done a hard day’s work in his life and if he’d ever, even for one day, lived the kinds of lives that the people who desperately needed that social housing had.

She met Marcus’s gaze, then Amy’s, then the other three. They all stared back at her implacably. She knew what they were thinking. She’ll capitulate. She’ll tow the line. She needs this job more than we need her.

This last bit was true, of course. Her rent was overdue, her car was desperately in need of a service, and if she lost this job, she didn’t know how she would pay for either. Yes, she ought to tow the line. She ought to swallow her pride and her principles for the sake of her paycheck.

But she knew she wouldn’t. She’d been raised by a single mother who’d been an activist and campaigner all her life. How could she do less than her mother would have done? She might have been gone for several years now, but Elodie was still determined to make her proud.

So she lifted her chin and glared at Marcus Cross. “Fine. Then I quit. Find someone else to do your dirty work for you.”

Marcus blinked in surprise and opened his mouth to speak. But before he could say a word, Elodie climbed to her feet, spun on her heel, and stormed out of the boardroom. She felt a small stab of satisfaction as it slammed behind her.

The receptionist looked up as she stalked through the lobby. “Are you done? I’ll need your security badge back.”

Elodie ignored her. She stomped to the elevator and stepped quickly inside. Stupid Cross Construction and their stupid back-stabbing executives!

As the doors slid closed and the elevator began to descend, she was so angry she didn’t notice the other person in the lift until a voice said, “Going all the way to the bottom, dearie?”

She turned and saw a small, elderly woman standing by the control panel. “What? Oh, yes, please. Sorry, I was miles away.”

The woman smiled, deepening the creases around her eyes. “So I see, lass. Bad day at the office, is it?”

“Something like that.”