Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Uneventful?” Nadine Olsen huffs in displeasure from the other end of the device. “Your first day in the most dysfunctional branch of the entire company was…uneventful?”
Ptur’s jaw instantly lowers as he stabs an accusatory finger the direction of my device, a set of actions that forces me to slap a hand over his mouth to keep him silent.
His gray gaze instantly narrows over being hushed.
I don’t bother hiding my victorious smirk regarding his unhappiness, which seems to send ease throughout his entire body.
A body that—in other non-life or death or uncomfortable limbo circumstances—I wouldn’t mind fantasizing about during my not long enough lunch hour.
I mean everything about the man is just so fucking massive that I can’t stop myself from believing the tree trunk I saw him sporting earlier while he was gawking at me like I was the last slice of prime rib wasn’t just an optical illusion created by those slacks that are wearing him as much as he’s wearing them.
And to add an unneeded sprinkling of s and p to the delicious meal he already is, he’s even yummier when he’s on his ripped out of a Die Hard movie alpha shit yet extra scrumptious when he’s being less formal.
Less…tightly wound.
Relaxed.
Every glimpse of that I see makes me want more of the insanity he’s spewing about dragons and orcs and fate.
It’s crazy.
Fuck, all of this is crazy.
Not.
And being able to clearly understand what my inner coo-coo-cachu voice is saying is definitely the craziest shit of them all.
Even crazier than his previously bruised face being completely healed like it had never been injured to begin with.
“Ms. Olsen,” I professionally begin with my tone natural and volume even, “please understand that correcting the issues that have been brought to my attention will take time, thought, and diligence. Diligence that begins with me acquainting myself with the physical building—that you should recall has more stories than any other in the company—along with those that are in it.”
“Miss Pennington-”
“I understand your anxiousness regarding not only answers but progress; however, that is not how this process works nor how it will ever work, Ms. Olsen.”
Her airy humph gets Ptur grinning against my palm.
“With all due respect, you are now on my schedule, and I will relay my findings in the proper order using appropriate communication tools when I deem that it’s time.”
Another displeased huff is presented.
“Do you have any other questions for me at this point in my assignment?”
There’s an excruciatingly long pause that’s followed by a teeth gritting, “No.”
“Very well then. Please, enjoy your evening, Ms. Olsen.”
“You,” Nadine slowly stretches out the word, “too, Miss Pennington.”
Using the hand holding the device, I end the call but keep my mirth-filled stare planted on Ptur’s. “I will grant you the gift of speech once more if I have your word that you won’t resume the importance of a seatbelt lecture you were hellbent on giving.”
Humor remains in his beautiful gaze as he gives me a nod of compliance. The instant I remove my hand, he asks, “Is the Dreki branch truly the most malfunctioning one of the entire company?”
“Currently…yes.”
Disbelief deepens during a small headshake. “What about that shit in Hong Kong four years ago?”
“Handled.” My hands fold politely together in my lap after readjusting myself in his leather seat. “They were assessed, a POA was created, executed, and follow up procedures put in place to keep things properly maintained. The records will show internal complaints are down by sixty seven percent while external complaints are down by eighty-two. Yearly evaluations from management regarding employees are up in positives as are employees’ evaluations of management. This occurring correlation has also increased that particular branch’s sales figures by seven percent. Like the saying goes, better input produces better output, Mr. Draak.”
“Ptur.”
“We’re discussing business, so, Mr. Draak is more appropriate.”
He grunts at my point prior to further prodding, “What about that merger mess in Oslo? Surely, they are more fractured than we are.”
“Let me just say, thank you for sending me literally all around the world to solve personnel problems. This job has given me a magnet collection on my fridge that is off the charts and an obsession with handsome accented strangers who have taught me the real meaning of romance languages.”
The twitched sneer I’m given forces me to swallow a snicker. “That’s hardly appropriate for this conversation, Miss Pennington.”
Wow.
I like just met him, and he sounds jealous?
That’s alarming.
Okay.
That should be alarming, but for some reason it isn’t.
It’s actually…almost…a tiny bit…charming.
Why?
Why do I find that swoon worthy as opposed to off-putting?
Half.
Half?
How the fuck does that provide any level of clarity for my feelings?
“Yes, the merger in Norway was messy. And quite scandalous at various levels. The lack of protocols for the company acquired was almost as astonishing as the lack of follow through from the one acquiring it; however, it too received the same treatment that Hong Kong faced. They were assessed, a POA was created, executed, and follow up procedures were put in place to keep things properly maintained. The data we’ve received indicates the changes have had quite the substantial effect on the personnel which in turn has led to improvements in sales, growth, and profit.”