Free The Officer's Girl by Leigh Duncan Page A

tag. “Thank you, Paul.”
    The deference that came with her new title would take some getting used to. Not unlike her new office suite. A broad grin threatened to break across her face when sheglanced past the empty receptionist’s desk to the door of her very own spacious corner office.
    “I’ll be at the front desk if you need me. Will you be all right, Ms. Bryant?”
    With backup generators powering the computers and air conditioners, she would be more than all right. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for opening up for me, Paul.”
    She would get her own set of keys when she was formally introduced as the new director of human resources. Keys or not, she had work to do, and that work included research on the way the hurricane had impacted the company’s biggest asset—its employees. Corporate had requested a 7:00 p.m. briefing, and she was determined to have all the answers to their questions by then.
    Stephanie gave her escort a long look. Rain, wind, hail or hurricane, Space Tech’s security force remained on guard, and the man had probably been on duty for days. It wouldn’t hurt to gather a first-hand report from one of the company’s own.
    “Did you and your family come through the storm all right, Paul?” she asked.
    He hesitated, his weight shifting from foot to foot. “Not exactly,” he finally answered.
    “Oh?”
    “Our mobile home lost part of the roof. I’m just hoping it don’t rain till I get enough time off to tarp it.”
    A hole in the roof of his trailer. Stephanie ran a hand through springy curls that refused taming without a blow-dryer and a flat iron. So what if she didn’t have power? She lived in a solid house with an intact roof. She could tolerate a few curls.
    “I’m sure the company values your loyalty, Paul, but you didn’t want to take the day off?”
    “We have a new baby in the house, ma’am. I can’t afford a day without pay.”
    Stephanie noted folded arms and a firmly set jaw. Body language did not lie, and Paul’s discomfort with the subject was easy to read. Reassurance rose in her throat, but she throttled it. He hadn’t asked for any special favors. She would not offer empty promises. For now, she could only let him get back to work.
    “Congratulations on the baby. Good luck with the roof,” she said.
    While he trudged back the way they had come, she crossed the anteroom, pausing at the doorway to her office to take in the green-and-gold patterned carpet beneath sand-colored walls. Company manuals filled two tall bookcases. Matching chairs and a conference table flanked the dark rosewood desk. Not the most impressive office she had ever seen, but it was hers. All hers. Now, if she could just keep it.
    Corporate wanted assurance that everything was fine and dandy in the aftermath of the hurricane’s near miss. “We don’t expect this will require much action on our part,” a senior VP cautioned.
    Stephanie thought otherwise. Official reports—not those wildly speculative ones on the television—showed damage to one out of twenty homes and businesses throughout the county. Which meant, one out of twenty Space Tech employees could face the same awful choice Paul had made. The only way to help him, and others like him, would mean a temporary dip in the company’s bottom line. Her research showed that assisting the employees with hurricane recovery would pay big dividends in the future, but was it worth the immediate risk to her career?
    Weighing her answer, she walked to one of the picturewindows and looked out at the pine trees, palmettos and green grass. Sporadic lightning backlit a thick cloud bank that hovered on the horizon. Tomorrow’s forecast called for rain.
    She smoothed her collar, firmed her resolve, and joined the ongoing discussion at the appointed time.
    Several hours of hard bargaining and compromise later, Stephanie logged out of the conference call. She propped her feet on the edge of her desk and leaned back. Toasting her success with a