Bad Boys Down Under Read Online Free Page A

Zealand and the budget we’ve tentatively allocated to the California expansion.” He held it out. “Some light reading.”
    She received the report with her fingertips, keeping as much of the eight-by-eleven inches of paper between them as she could. She slipped it into the silver metal briefcase, snapped the lid, then rose and headed for the door.
    â€œOh, Jennifer?”
    She turned back, brows raised.
    â€œPleasant dreams.”
    She rolled her gaze at him as though he were a chippie on a construction site who’d whistled at her, and left.
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    Crane Enterprises was located in a restored Victorian warehouse in an area down by the harbor known as the Rocks. Jen had expected something in the Central Business District, or CBD to the Australians who seemed to her to have a mania for shortening or abreviating everything. But no, Crane was located in the most historic part of Sydney. The faded and smudged red brick actually looked hip with the light wood and glass that were the main building materials for Crane’s front offices.
    The woman at reception was young and buxom, with one extra button open at her throat than Jen thought was necessary. And she didn’t look older than twenty.
    Still, she knew who Jen was and immediately led her to an empty office.
    â€œCam said you were to have this one. The phone works, there are some supplies in the drawers, and I’m to act as your assistant if you need anything.” She grinned, her face at once sexy and impish, and Jen had the idea that Cameron Crane hired his support staff based on bra size not typing speed. “I’m Fiona,” the girl said.
    â€œThanks, Fiona. Can you see if all the people on this list would be available for a meeting today at,” she glanced at her watch, “shall we say eleven o’-clock?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œIf you’re going to be assisting me, can you come in and take notes? Is there someone who can cover for you on the front desk?”
    â€œOh, yeah. No worries,” Fiona said, taking the list that Jen had culled from the organization chart.
    When Jen got to the boardroom right at eleven, it was packed. From a quick head count, not only were the people she’d requested present, but a few extras. She guessed that was better than sparse attendance. It argued an interest in what she was trying to achieve.
    The only way she knew it was a boardroom was because the sign on the door said so. Transport that group around the table to a different setting, and they could be playing beach volleyball or hanging out at a bar somewhere or—no, she had it now. Surfing. They all looked like surfers, from the sales manager to Fiona taking minutes. Toned, tanned, young, and buff, she doubted there was anyone in the room over thirty. Well, apart from her—the grandmother of the bunch at thirty-one. And Cameron Crane, of course, who’d taken his place at the end of the pale wooden board table. He had a couple of years on her.
    She was pleased he’d shown up. He had a lot of business interests, so she figured he was a busy guy. It didn’t matter that he probably came to the meeting to check up on her; his action still sent a message to his staff that she was to be taken seriously.
    Jen hadn’t expected Crane’s executives to dress like Wall Street bankers, but neither had she expected them to look like they had damp sand in their shorts from catching a few waves before work.
    Board shorts, loud shirts, khakis, mini skirts—it seemed anything was acceptable. Cam wore the loudest shirt of all. The red was so bright her eyeballs hurt to look at him, and was relieved with neon yellow flowers with purple centers.
    She’d assumed the office would be reasonably casual, so she’d dressed in a sleeveless white blouse and a royal blue skirt and dress sandals, but she was totally overdressed for this crowd.
    â€œLike the shirt?” Cam grinned at her as she