Um-hmm."
Sophia stopped packing up, laid her palms on her desk and met Kris's eyes dead-on. "If you think I'm going to enjoy juggling my time between the work I love and mucking around the vineyards, you're crazy. And if you think Tyler is gunning for a position here in these offices, think again."
"Excuse me, but he now has a position in these offices."
"And one you believe should be yours. I'm not going to disagree with you, but I'm telling you it's temporary. I need you here. I'm not going to be able to drive down here every day, I'm not going to be able to take all the meetings or delegate every assignment. Essentially, Kris, you've just been promoted. You don't get a new title, but I will do everything I can to see that you get the financial compensation for the extra responsibilities that are about to be dumped on you."
"It's not about the money."
"But money never hurts," Sophia finished. "Ty's position here, and his title, are titular. He doesn't know anything about promotion and marketing, Kris, and isn't particularly interested in either."
"Interested enough to make comments and suggestions this morning."
"Just a minute." She could be patient, Sophia thought, but she would not be pushed. "Do you expect him to sit here like a moron? He's entitled to express an opinion, and it so happens he made very decent suggestions. He's been tossed off the cliff without a parachute, and he's coping. Take a lesson."
Kris set her teeth. She'd been with Giambelli nearly ten years and was sick to death of being passed over for their precious bloodline. "He has a parachute, and so do you. You were born with it. Either one of you screw up, you bounce. That doesn't go for the rest of us."
"I won't go into personal family business with you. I will say you're a valued member of the Giambelli, and now the Giambelli-MacMillan, organization. I'm sorry if you feel your skills and talents have been overlooked or undervalued. Whatever I can do to correct this, will be done. But these adjustments must be made, and over the next several months it would pay all of us to make sure we don't screw up. I have to be able to depend on you. If I can't, I need you to let me know so that I can make other arrangements."
"I'll do my job." Kris turned to the door, yanked it open. "And yours."
"Well," Sophia murmured when the door slammed smartly. "That was fun." On a sigh, she picked up her phone again. "P.J., I need a minute."
" No, we want classic. This very subtle chalk stripe to start."
"Fine, great. I'll take it. Let's go."
"Tyler." Sophia pursed her lips and patted his cheek. "Go try it on, like a good boy."
He snagged her wrist. "Mom?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Cut it out."
"If you'd done more than brood for the last thirty minutes on your own, we'd be practically out the door. This one," she said, handing him the rich brown with narrow stripes, "and this." She selected a classic black three-piece.
To cut off any complaints, she wandered away from him to ponder the shirts. "Shawn?" She gestured to one of the associates she knew by sight. "My friend Mr. MacMillan? He's going to need guidance."
"I'll take good care of him, Ms. Giambelli. By the way, your father and his fiancée were in just this morning."
"Really?"
"Yes, shopping for their honeymoon. If you're looking for something special for the wedding, we have a fabulous new evening jacket that would be smashing on you."
"I'm a little pressed for time today," she managed. "I'll come back and see it first chance I get."
"Just let me know. I'll be happy to send some selections to you for approval. I'll just check on Mr. MacMillan."
"Thanks." She picked up a dress shirt blindly, stared hard at the cream-on-cream pattern.
Not wasting a minute, she thought. Shopping for the honeymoon before the divorce is final. Spreading the word far and wide.
Maybe, maybe it was best she'd be out of her usual loop in the city for a while. She wouldn't be running into people chatting about her father's
Sophia stopped packing up, laid her palms on her desk and met Kris's eyes dead-on. "If you think I'm going to enjoy juggling my time between the work I love and mucking around the vineyards, you're crazy. And if you think Tyler is gunning for a position here in these offices, think again."
"Excuse me, but he now has a position in these offices."
"And one you believe should be yours. I'm not going to disagree with you, but I'm telling you it's temporary. I need you here. I'm not going to be able to drive down here every day, I'm not going to be able to take all the meetings or delegate every assignment. Essentially, Kris, you've just been promoted. You don't get a new title, but I will do everything I can to see that you get the financial compensation for the extra responsibilities that are about to be dumped on you."
"It's not about the money."
"But money never hurts," Sophia finished. "Ty's position here, and his title, are titular. He doesn't know anything about promotion and marketing, Kris, and isn't particularly interested in either."
"Interested enough to make comments and suggestions this morning."
"Just a minute." She could be patient, Sophia thought, but she would not be pushed. "Do you expect him to sit here like a moron? He's entitled to express an opinion, and it so happens he made very decent suggestions. He's been tossed off the cliff without a parachute, and he's coping. Take a lesson."
Kris set her teeth. She'd been with Giambelli nearly ten years and was sick to death of being passed over for their precious bloodline. "He has a parachute, and so do you. You were born with it. Either one of you screw up, you bounce. That doesn't go for the rest of us."
"I won't go into personal family business with you. I will say you're a valued member of the Giambelli, and now the Giambelli-MacMillan, organization. I'm sorry if you feel your skills and talents have been overlooked or undervalued. Whatever I can do to correct this, will be done. But these adjustments must be made, and over the next several months it would pay all of us to make sure we don't screw up. I have to be able to depend on you. If I can't, I need you to let me know so that I can make other arrangements."
"I'll do my job." Kris turned to the door, yanked it open. "And yours."
"Well," Sophia murmured when the door slammed smartly. "That was fun." On a sigh, she picked up her phone again. "P.J., I need a minute."
" No, we want classic. This very subtle chalk stripe to start."
"Fine, great. I'll take it. Let's go."
"Tyler." Sophia pursed her lips and patted his cheek. "Go try it on, like a good boy."
He snagged her wrist. "Mom?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Cut it out."
"If you'd done more than brood for the last thirty minutes on your own, we'd be practically out the door. This one," she said, handing him the rich brown with narrow stripes, "and this." She selected a classic black three-piece.
To cut off any complaints, she wandered away from him to ponder the shirts. "Shawn?" She gestured to one of the associates she knew by sight. "My friend Mr. MacMillan? He's going to need guidance."
"I'll take good care of him, Ms. Giambelli. By the way, your father and his fiancée were in just this morning."
"Really?"
"Yes, shopping for their honeymoon. If you're looking for something special for the wedding, we have a fabulous new evening jacket that would be smashing on you."
"I'm a little pressed for time today," she managed. "I'll come back and see it first chance I get."
"Just let me know. I'll be happy to send some selections to you for approval. I'll just check on Mr. MacMillan."
"Thanks." She picked up a dress shirt blindly, stared hard at the cream-on-cream pattern.
Not wasting a minute, she thought. Shopping for the honeymoon before the divorce is final. Spreading the word far and wide.
Maybe, maybe it was best she'd be out of her usual loop in the city for a while. She wouldn't be running into people chatting about her father's
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