In Stilettos Complete Collection (Ebook)

As soon as the last handshakes were dealt and Brett James, the president of All-Tech thanked them for their time, Pierre Trudeaux indicated the door. Jaya’s stomach dropped. Well damn. Worst thing was, he had Derrick Cooley, Trudeaux’s VP of Corporate Events, trailing right behind him as they exited the boardroom. This couldn’t be good.

They were probably pissed she hadn’t gone through with their approved presentation. Derrick had pushed for something flashier, wanting to capture the client’s attention, and had refused to listen to her ideas for the presentation. Not to mention he hated her. How the hell she’d ever thought she wanted to marry that asshole was beyond her. She must have been high.

Back stiff, she exited out the closest door and started her explanations before they could get a word in edgewise. “I know that’s not the original presentation you talked about, but I’m uniquely attuned to this market and I feel like—” She didn’t finish. Both of them shot her looks so cold she could feel the icicles forming in her gut.

“In my office, Jaya,” her father said.

This. Was. Not. Good. Okay. Plan B time. She wasn’t above begging. Jaya wanted this client. Needed this client. She’d gone out and recruited this business. It was hers. If they gave the account to Derrick, or worse, to her sister, Tamara, she’d have a fit.

Once in Pierre’s austere office, Jaya settled in one of the guest chairs she knew her father selected deliberately to make people uncomfortable in his presence. Her father took his post behind his desk, looking every bit the authoritarian dictator he wished he were. Derrick remained standing, which gave him that additional position of power. Instead of looking at her, he stared out the window. Prick.

She sucked in a deep breath and marshaled her nerves. Come on gang. Once more with feeling. “Look. I’m sorry. But you saw the client—they don’t care about being the cool kids. They care about authenticity. No offense intended, Derrick, but your presentation would have lost them.” She drew in a breath. “Next time I’ll follow your direction, but clients like this need a plan they can get behind. They’re slow and steady comic-book readers. They don’t care about the latest cool-kid party.”

Derrick didn’t even wait for her father to speak, nor did he face her. “There won’t be a next time, Jaya.”

“What?” Her eyes burrowed on her father’s face. Impassive. But was that really a surprise? “Okay, look, bench me for the next few months if you want, but I’m the best presenter you have. I—”

Derrick turned from his position at the enormous floor to ceiling windows overlooking San Diego’s skyline. “No. Not for a few months. Forever.”

Jaya's anger simmered to life. But instead of its low-grade burn, it roared to five-alarm status. She turned her gaze on her father. “Dad?” Derrick didn’t have the authority to fire her. She still had more shares in the company than he did. Until, of course, he married Tamara.

Her father said nothing for a long moment, the barest hint of exhaustion in his features. “There’s a position in accounting if you would prefer. It would be a better fit. I think—”

Jaya blinked. “Did you just say ‘accounting’? Dad. I’m not an accountant. I’m an event planner. This is who I am.”

He sighed and slid a glance to Derrick. “Then I’m sorry. You leave me no choice. You’re fired.”