Ms DeVere in happier times with her former finance mogul boyfriend Granger Carmont. Will the couple reignite their relationship? A source close to Ms DeVere said that Cynthia never got over her split with Carmont and was never as happy as she was with him. Watch this space …
Chantelle got up and walked to the bathroom. Tears were burning in her eyes. She made it into the cubicle in time before the flood swept down her cheeks. What had she done? Jumping into bed with a man she hardly knew. She’d never done anything like that in her life before. She’d always been so careful. She didn’t want to give herself to someone she didn’t care about, so why had she given herself so easily to Granger Carmont? Cynthia had left him and he needed someone to keep him entertained while he waited for her to come back. She had well and truly fallen for it. She had believed that he wanted her, and she had wanted him back, but all along she was just a placeholder. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, forcing herself to get a grip.
She went out of the cubicle and washed her face, splashing cold water on her eyes to try to disguise the fact that she had been crying. Then she headed back to her desk.
‘Everything OK?’ Patsy asked.
‘Hmmm.’ Chantelle nodded, and passed the offending magazine back to her colleague. She couldn’t bear to look at the pictures again. Patsy took it without asking any more questions, leaving her to get on with her work. Chantelle tried to focus on her files, but her mind was full. She stared at her screen, wishing the hours away so she could leave the office for the day. But where would she go? She didn’t want to go home again and face seeing Neil. She wanted to be alone.
‘I wonder what she wants.’ Patsy’s voice broke into her thoughts. Chantelle looked up and followed her colleague’s gaze to their boss’s office. Valerie from HR was standing in the doorway talking to Margaret. They turned and looked at Chantelle and Patsy, then disappeared into the office and shut the door.
‘Maybe she’s here about your contract!’ Patsy gasped. ‘Maybe they have something for you now. What with the new deal and everything. Did you hear anything from Mr Carmont? How the meeting is going?’
‘Err, no I didn’t,’ Chantelle lied.
‘Oh. When are they coming back? Tomorrow night, right?’ Patsy probed.
‘Not sure.’
‘But I thought you were house-sitting? Surely you know when he’s due back?’
‘Yes, sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I had my mind in this report. Friday,’ Chantelle said.
‘Look out,’ Patsy whispered, her eyes fixed on her screen. ‘Now Margaret is on her way over. I’m sure it’s about you, she’s looking directly at you.’
Chantelle glanced up; her pulse had begun to race. Could it be true? Might a job have suddenly come up for her? Granger had said the meeting went well. Maybe he was involved in this. Maybe it was to make up for dropping her for Cynthia. Her mind went blank as Margaret approached the desk. She was smiling. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? Could it be true? What else could she want? Oh, please let it be a job.
‘Ms Moulier? Could I have a word?’ Margaret said.
‘Sure.’ Chantelle stood up slowly. Her hands had started to shake.
‘In my office, please.’ Margaret turned and strode back across the floor. Chantelle gathered up her notebook and pen.
‘Do you think it’s a job?’ Patsy asked, eyes gleaming.
‘I don’t know – maybe they need me for some project.’ Chantelle shrugged.
Patsy shook her head. ‘No! Not the day before you’re due to leave. They wouldn’t make you start something. Oh, fingers crossed, fingers crossed.’ Patsy held up both of her hands to show they were crossed. Chantelle squeezed her lips together and headed to Margaret’s office.
Chapter Nine
Granger stood in the queue at the coffee shop. He was sick of drinking weak American coffee and couldn’t wait to get back to the UK where he could have his own freshly ground espresso from his local cafe. Or better still the new machine he had ordered should have arrived at the apartment. He would be able to have a delicious freshly ground Italian coffee at home.
His mind drifted. He had double-checked with his PA that the restaurant was confirmed for Thursday night. It was booked up weeks in advance, but he knew the owner, who had found a table for him. He had already asked for a bottle of vintage Champagne to be kept on ice. Hey, he was in the mood to celebrate and felt like doing it in style. With Chantelle.
Smiling, to himself he took a sip of coffee and winced. He poured in sugar to disguise the taste, stirring it with a wooden stick. Just when he didn’t want anything to do with women, there she was like no one he’d ever met – sweet, innocent, and incredibly sexy. And an unbelievable skill for getting into his mind and staying there. He’d hardly thought about anything else since the first time he had laid eyes on her.
He pulled out his phone. There were no messages. He had hoped there would be one from her. Frowning, he checked his sent messages. The text he’d sent to Chantelle earlier still hadn’t been delivered. Her phone must be switched off. He dropped his phone back into his pocket.
He climbed into the waiting car. The traffic was very heavy. The big car crawled slowly through the congestion. Granger glanced at his watch; he didn’t have much time. The driver wound down the partition. ‘It’s going to be tight to make it to the airport. Are you sure you need to go into town first?’
‘Yes,’ Granger said, setting his mouth. There was no way he was leaving without going to the jeweller’s. He checked his phone. There was still no message from her. He checked the time. Her phone should be on. He dialled her number, but the answerphone clicked in straight away. ‘Damn it,’ he muttered, and shoved it back into his pocket.
‘Are we nearly there?’ he asked the driver, not even trying to hide the irritation in his tone. The limousine edged through the traffic.
‘Almost. Another two hundred yards, but this traffic is hell,’ the driver told him.
‘It’ll be quicker if I go on foot. Meet me outside,’ Granger said. He jumped out and slammed the door. He hurried through the street full of shoppers and made it to the jeweller’s. The security guard recognised him and tipped his hat as he held the door open.
Inside, the shop was busy; the counters were thronging with customers. Granger pushed his way through to get to the glass. The sales assistant was in the middle of serving someone. He flagged her attention. ‘Hey, mister, I was waiting first,’ a woman complained.
‘This is an emergency,’ he snapped.
The sales assistant smiled apologetically. ‘One moment, sir, I’ll just call my colleague.’ She rang a bell.
The customers around him huffed impatiently but he ignored them. The older sales assistant appeared. ‘Mr Carmont. Come this way,’ she said, reading the urgency on his face. He pushed through the crowded shop, following her to the private room.
‘Mr Carmont. Sorry for keeping you waiting.’
‘I have to get to the airport and the traffic is bad,’ Granger said. ‘Let’s make this quick.’
‘Of course, sir. I have it here.’ She unlocked a drawer and removed an elegant gift package, then turned on a spotlight over the jeweller’s pad. Spinning the box to face him she flicked it open.
‘Beautiful,’ Granger said. She took a monocle out and passed it to him. He studied the diamonds.
‘Perfect, just perfect,’ he murmured and handed the box back to her. ‘Thank you. I have to rush now.’
‘Of course, sir.’ The lady quickly repackaged the box and retied the ribbon. He slipped the box into his inside pocket having already settled the bill and pushed his way back out of the shop. The large black car was in the road outside the jeweller’s waiting for him. Cars behind were sounding their horns. He jumped into the back of the car and they took off in the direction of the airport.
Chantelle pushed open the door to her boss’s office. Margaret wa
s sitting behind her desk gathering papers. She looked up as Chantelle entered and gestured for her to take a seat at the meeting table.
‘Ms Moulier.’ Margaret paused and gazed over her glasses. Chantelle suddenly felt disappointed. It didn’t feel like the meeting was about a job.
‘This is Valerie from Human Resources,’ Margaret explained, gesturing to the other woman who was sitting at the meeting table. Margaret stood up, moved around her desk and came to join them.
‘As you are aware, your internship contract is coming to an end,’ Margaret said. Chantelle nodded. ‘Valerie has prepared all the paperwork for you.’
‘Yes, this is your folder.’ Valerie opened the white A4 folder emblazoned with the Granger Finance logo. ‘Here you have the reference that Margaret has written regarding your performance during this internship.’
‘As I told you, Ms Moulier, we have been very positive about your performance here. It has been a pleasure to work with you. I only wish we had a position to keep you with us. Have you enjoyed your time here?’
Chantelle forced herself to smile. ‘Yes, it’s been probably the best experience of my life so far. I’ve learned so much, more than I could have imagined.’ She fought to hold back the tears. Margaret placed a hand on her forearm.
‘What have you got planned next?’ Valerie asked. Chantelle shook her head. ‘I’m looking for jobs now. I’m applying all the time. I want to continue what I’ve started in the financial sector.’
‘Can I give you a word of advice?’ Valerie said. ‘Take a break. A short break for yourself. You’ve been studying hard since you were young and when you get a job you will embark on a long, long working career. You won’t get another opportunity like this to take a bit of time for yourself.’ Valerie smiled; her eyes were kind.
Chantelle nodded. ‘I would like to, but I don’t have the finances for a holiday.’
Valerie smiled again. ‘It doesn’t have to be expensive. Visit friends or family. Just make sure you give yourself a moment to draw a line under this part of your study and internship life.’
‘Now, we are very happy to let you go now if you would like. Take tomorrow off, head home early and surprise your family.’
‘Tomorrow? Leave now, you mean?’
‘Why not? You’ve been so dedicated. You’ve more than served your contract.’
‘But I have a spreadsheet to finish. I’ve been working on it but will still take me a few hours.’
Margaret shook her head. ‘Don’t worry about that anymore. Just email it through to Patsy. She will finish it for you. You’ve done more than enough.’
Right.’ Chantelle nodded, standing up.
‘Just leave your laptop on the desk,’ Margaret said, standing up too. She leant forward and gave Chantelle a light hug and an air kiss on each cheek.
‘Thank you, Margaret,’ Chantelle said. ‘And don’t forget me if you need someone.’
‘I won’t.’
Chantelle left the office and walked back to her desk carrying her white folder.
‘So?’ Patsy asked, ‘what was that all about?’
‘It was to tell me my contract’s finished and I can go,’ Chantelle said, packing up her things from her desk.
‘But what about tomorrow?’ Patsy’s face fell. She stood up and walked around to Chantelle’s desk.
Chantelle shrugged and forced a smile. ‘Day off. Or should I say first day of unemployment.’ She laughed.
‘Oh, Chantelle.’ Patsy put a comforting hand on her arm.
‘It’s fine, really. I needed a shake up to get moving. I would probably still be here next month if they didn’t kick me out.’ She laughed, but it sounded hollow.
‘But what will you do?’ Patsy asked.
Chantelle smiled. ‘They gave me some good advice. They told me to take a break before starting something new. It sounds like a good idea. I might just go back to France for a few weeks before getting too stuck into the job search.’
‘But if you go back to France, will you come back?’ Patsy looked doubtful.
‘That’s the plan. For now,’ she added. She sat down and emailed the spreadsheet to Patsy and then stood up.
Patsy got up too. ‘I’m going to cry.’
‘Don’t, because you’ll start me off, and I need to do the round of the office saying goodbye first.’ She hugged Patsy.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Patsy said. She accompanied Chantelle as she passed by each desk and said goodbye. Finally, they made it to the door to the department.
‘We’ll keep in touch,’ Chantelle said, hugging her friend again. She turned and walked out of the office. She glanced at the executive floor as she passed. She felt numb. She refused to think about Granger and what had happened between them. That was in the past. She turned her head, focusing straight ahead.
Granger stepped off the aeroplane feeling refreshed. Normally he flew on the corporate jet but as most of his team were still in the States he’d taken a scheduled flight. He’d slept through the entire journey and was now feeling great. A driver was waiting for him at Heathrow to take him back to Summerville. He grabbed a coffee from the stand then sat back in the leather interior of the car and watched the fields flash by.
The car pulled into Summerville. Granger was amazed at how pleased he was to see the familiar stone buildings. He loved this city more than any other. He really didn’t spend enough time appreciating it. He should take a few days off and do the touristic Summerville things. Chantelle would enjoy that too as she wasn’t from the area. He’d be proud to show her around.
He ran his hand through his hair and smiled. What was wrong with him? Planning a date based around sightseeing? Hardly the height of seduction. He was getting old! He sat up and took out his phone, flicking through his emails. He was edgy; he couldn’t wait to see her. Richard had better call her soon and set up an interview. He needed her to be out of his company asap to avoid any bad press. There was no way he would work in the same office as his girlfriend. His girlfriend? He smiled at the term. When did that happen? He wasn’t sure, but he knew he wanted to spend more time with her.
He wasn’t going to get any more involved with her work, though. If Richard wanted to employ her and Chantelle wanted to work for him then that was between the two of them. He’d done all he was going to do.
The car drew up at his apartment. He could just see the lights were on in the window. She was there! Not working late in the office for any reason. He got out of the car, took his case and stepped into the lift.
He unlocked his front door; the lights were on, but it was silent. He took off his coat. Next to the door was a beautiful carved wood coat stand. Granger ran a hand over the warm wooden frame. It was homely, nothing like the cold designer one that had been there a few weeks earlier. He liked her taste. He hung his coat on the hook then, remembering the precious package in the pocket, took it back down, wanting to keep it close to him.
There was a click, click, click. Rocky plodded towards him over the wooden floor, wagging his stumpy tail.
‘Hello, Rock,’ Granger whispered, smiling and bending down to scratch the old dog’s head. The dog looked pleased to see him. ‘You missed me, did you? Even with her here? I’m honoured. Where is she, boy?’ The dog cocked his head to one side. ‘What’s the matter? Hungry?’ he asked, following the dog into the kitchen. He filled the empty bowl with biscuits. ‘Did Chantelle forget to feed you? That’s not a good start, I’ll have to have words with her.’ He laughed as the dog bent his head and ate hungrily. He paused. Where was she? Surely, she had heard him come in. Why hadn’t she come down to see him? Wasn’t she as excited as he was? He watched Rocky wolfing down the food. The dog seemed starving.
Granger headed back to the living room. The boxes of electrical equipment were stacked in the side of the room. ‘Damn it,’ he muttered. The delivery men were supposed to have fit
ted them. Now he’d have to organise them to come back again. He glanced at the other boxes, surprised that Chantelle hadn’t unpacked them. He picked up one and opened it. Inside was a coffee machine. He took it back into the kitchen and set it on the side. Perhaps Chantelle was too shy to open the packages.
In the living room he noticed a pile of cushions and throws bunched in a corner. He picked up one fluffy cushion and looked at it. Why were they on floor? He threw a couple of them on to the sofa. It definitely looked better – homely. A woman’s touch. He shook his head. A woman’s touch? That was the last thing he’d wanted in his apartment a few weeks ago. Who would have thought it.
He heard a sound upstairs. She must be in up there. He headed straight for the staircase and hurried up, happy to see a mound of a person buried under the covers in his bed. He stopped for a moment and checked his watch. She must have only just got back from work. Was she having a nap already? Or maybe she wasn’t feeling well. His heart filled with concern.
‘Hey. Surprise!’ he whispered, sitting down on the side of the bed. ‘What are you doing in bed? Are you sick?’ He put a hand on the sleeping form. It felt so good to be back with her again. He had been thinking of this moment for a long time.
‘Hmm.’ She threw the duvet back. For a moment Granger struggled to understand what he was seeing. Where the long dark silky curtain of Chantelle’s hair should have been was short straight blonde hair. What had she done? Changed her hairstyle?
The Executive Floor Page 17
