My Naughty Little Secret

by Finnegan, Tara

  “So I take it I’ve just met your father and your stepmother then,” I said caustically. “Sorry, James, no offence meant, but I’m sure you can imagine this is all quite a bolt from the blue.”

  “None taken, my dear, now I’m sure you could really do with that coffee.”

  He left the room, leaving the door open, a signal that someone would be back in and not to let fly. Catherine was in immediately with a tray with coffee for two only and when she left, she firmly shut the door. So I took it that this was the cue that we were getting some privacy now.

  “Why wouldn’t you answer my calls? I wanted to tell you. Hell, we were meant to come here on Wednesday.”

  “Jesus, Michael, the time to tell me this was at the start, so I knew what I would be letting myself in for, to make an informed choice. Not almost three months later,” I spat. “So I presume you’re the next MD too.”

  He nodded his head dolefully. “I’m sorry, Shiv, I should have told you, but I was afraid you’d leave me. And I didn’t want to let you go. You meant too much to me.”

  “How long does James know about me?”

  “We talked about it for the first time the day I heard Myra was leaving, but apparently he knew nearly from the start; he saw me come to pick you up that day he kept you late.”

  I groaned. That was like our second date.

  “He warned me I should be straight with you, and I wanted to, so many times, but I kept praying that if I gave it long enough you might be in too deep to run and hide.”

  “Did it not occur to you what three months of lies would do, Michael? How hard it would be to undo that? Or how hard it would be for me to trust you again? And what about her? I presume that was Vivienne I saw coming out of your office. You didn’t tell me you were meeting her either.”

  “That’s because I didn’t know; she just arrived unannounced. I swear, Shiv, whatever we had finished when I met you. I knew from the start what I wanted and that we were something special. I knew you were my future. I wanted it all: marriage, kids, a mortgage, and growing old and wrinkly together. And I still do. But now I’ve made a mess of it all. Please tell me it’s not too late.”

  I couldn’t hold in the hysterical, sarcastic laugh. That was the most preposterous proposal a girl ever had. Definitely not the stuff dreams were made of.

  “What?” he demanded snappishly.

  “We’ve only been together three months, and I find out that for all of that three months I’ve been dating a fictitious person, someone who doesn’t exist, and just as I find out that he doesn’t exist, you talk about marriage. You’re completely and utterly off your rocker,” I snapped back. “Shit, Michael, don’t you realise that I’m here to hand in my notice so I don’t have to work with you anymore.”

  I spat that bit out; I wanted to hurt him, like he had hurt me. It was spiteful and malicious and one hundred percent intentional. It was like I had slapped him. The effect was instantaneous.

  “Your notice won’t be accepted. Do you think you can just leave like that, especially now that Myra’s going?”

  “Don’t think you can bully me, Michael. I’ll work out my notice, and I’ll see how long I can give you, but I have a job lined up…”

  “What the fuck… Jesus, you went and got another job before you even gave me a chance. Do you think that little of me? So is that what you were at for the last few days, doing interviews? It was as much as I could do to get out of bed and function and you were off planning a whole new life, without me, without at least hearing me out. I didn’t think you were that cold or heartless. It seems I fell in love with a fictitious person too.”

  My turn to be stung. “I was in no fit state to go job hunting, but Lynham’s rang me on Friday by coincidence, and the timing was perfect…then I finally figured out you were taking over from James and that put the tin hat on it,” I said softly, tears falling down my cheeks.

  “So have you accepted it yet?” he asked a bit less angrily.

  “No, I didn’t figure it all out until after your text asking to see me before I met James. Then it clicked that you were the successor. But hell, Michael, it’s even worse than I thought, he’s your dad, you really should have told me… anyway, it was too late to contact Lynham’s and I needed to get my head straight.”

  “I know; I’m sorry.”

  “How do you think it makes me feel? You didn’t trust me. Was it because you were afraid I would try to take advantage of the situation? Did you really think so little of me?”

  “NO, it was the opposite. It’s because I know you well enough to know you would have been thinking just that and you would have finished it. And James, I mean Dad, wants to talk to you now, and I know that’s going to make things worse, so I needed to see you first. If he told you the truth, then you would definitely never forgive me. It had to come from me. I’m hoping that it’s not too late.” He reached out and touched my face softly. I shuddered. I couldn’t afford to be weak. He was harder to resist than I liked to admit. All I really wanted was for him to fold me in his embrace and tell me everything would be fine. And I wanted to believe it too. But I couldn’t.

  “You’re looking lovely today, Shiv,” he said quietly. “You never leave your hair down, but you should. It really suits you. Are you ready to join James and Catherine?”

  “My head hurts; I couldn’t tie it up,” I offered by way of explanation, rising to follow him.

  He must have understood my need for a hug, or maybe he needed one, because as I stood up, he wrapped his strong arms around me. As I got his scent, I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing again. I put my head on his shoulder for the briefest moment, feeling his closeness, then resolutely gathered the strength to back away. I quickly wiped my eyes and followed him to the kitchen. James and Catherine looked expectantly at us and I could see their disappointment when it was pretty obvious that we hadn’t resolved everything.

  We sat at the kitchen table where Catherine produced more coffee. James told me again of Myra’s offer, saying she was leaving in about a month’s time, maybe less as she had some holidays due.

  “When I was recruiting you, I knew Myra was looking for a new challenge, and we recruited looking for someone who would be able to replace her as soon as possible. Myra and I are quite agreed, you are ready for the job and I’d like to offer you the role of personnel manager. I do realise this is a little more complicated than I had first expected because of what’s going on between you and Michael, but the job was yours the day we recruited you, and it has nothing to do with your relationship with him. The only difficulty that creates is whether you can work with him in the future. We threw you in at the deep end to make sure you could handle it. And you could, every time.”

  I was gobsmacked. Take Michael out of the picture and it would have been my dream opportunity. I loved Banbury’s. I admired James and knew I could work with him. I liked my colleagues. Even the location and premises were a pleasure to go to every day; not a huge factor, but still, they added to the joy of working there. And personnel manager in Banbury’s was top of the heap, not like in Lynham’s where I would have been one of five managers reporting to a director. My future career would have been sorted. I would have become hugely employable. Basically there was only one tier above me. The problem was that all too soon that one tier would be Michael. How could I accept? And if I did, how long would it take before people said I only got the job because I had been sleeping with the boss! And who knows, maybe there might even be truth in that.

  God, what a horrible predicament. My ideal job and I was going to have to refuse just because I hadn’t kept my knickers on. Even if Michael and I could find a way of working together, it would cheapen the achievement. And if we were going to try to fix things, it would be even worse, but why was I thinking like that—how could we fix things when he had lied from the start? I could have handled hearing he was two-timing me with Vivienne easier than all this information I had to absorb.

  “James, thank you. I’m r
eally flattered, but I don’t think under the circumstances I can accept. You should also know Lynham’s rang me on Friday offering me a job there and, all things considered, I think that might be the best option, but I’d like the weekend to think about it if I may.”

  Shit, Shiv, I scolded myself, just say no, you know you can’t do it. It would be unethical and bloody messy. Bad enough that I had been screwing the boss’s son, albeit unknowingly. If I accepted this, then I had also been screwing my future boss. Talk about sleeping your way to the top. No, No, No! Not on. Not on at all. I had to refuse, but I guess I just wanted to hold onto the dream for a little longer.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nothing would do Catherine but that I would stay for the dinner that I had missed on Wednesday night. I looked to Michael to help make it easy for me to leave, but he kept his mouth firmly shut. I didn’t know whether he wanted me to stay or go. James was no help either, adding his pleas to Catherine’s. My resistance met deaf ears. In the end I had to accept. It would have been extremely rude not to, but I really dreaded the thought of being cooped up, all four of us playing cosy, happy families when at that point in time I was still plotting sticking a voodoo doll of Michael with needles all over. I couldn’t help but have a quick snicker of a memory of a game Claire, Tara, and I sometimes played with our food. Perhaps I could secretly do it at the dinner table tonight to help me relax. When a man pissed any of us off, all three of us would shape our food into the shape of the offender, and bit by bit, chop body parts off and eat the pieces, chewing with relish, imagining the pain they would be feeling in the part of the anatomy we were eating. Yeah, I know it was very childish, but it was a lot cheaper than therapy! We always ended up laughing and the scorned party felt better for it.

  Catherine said she needed to go to the shops to get some supplies and asked James to drive her. Judging by James’ questioning face, she was well able to drive herself and was trying to leave Michael and me on our own to give us time to talk. That was absolutely the last thing I wanted, but I was trapped. I could see he wasn’t really much more comfortable with the whole situation than I was. For starters, we were in his father’s home. Hardly the place for us to have a frank and open discussion. And I had made it pretty obvious that I didn’t really want that discussion, not yet, anyway. I was still hurting too much. I think he was too, but he seemed a bit more willing to talk.

  I know I was wrong to jump to conclusions about Vivienne. But it transpired that the fates were against us. Even if Vivienne hadn’t turned up that day, we would have ended up in the same mess as I had been due to meet his family, which in fact had been his biggest lie of them all. No wonder he had been so uptight before I left for Ireland. He knew me better than I thought. True, for many a couple, it wouldn’t have been such a big deal, and maybe he could have told someone else sooner, but I could be a proud, stubborn woman and he knew that. I really didn’t want the world to think I was been granted special favours, and indeed I didn’t want to fear that I would be given them. That’s why I had loved London from day one. You got where you got on merit, not because of whom you knew or whom you were related to. I could have made a career in Ireland, but England had offered anonymity and freedom from the nepotism that was rife in the Irish workplace and I loved that.

  Once Catherine and James had left, we were sitting at the table across from each other, each lost in our own worlds. There was so much to say, but neither of us seemed capable of starting the conversation. It was looking like it was going to be a long afternoon. I hoped the shopping wouldn’t take too long. This was akin to torture. My head was throbbing and I really could have done with some fresh air. I was looking out the window wistfully at the garden when Michael suddenly got up and grabbed a loaf of bread. I was looking at him as if he had two heads; he never ate sliced bread, at least not as far as I knew.

  “Get your coat, we’re going out,” he ordered. Jesus, he was still giving me orders. If I had been wondering about whether going to Lynham’s was the right decision, it was made for me there and then.

  “Don’t you ever say please, or ask my opinion? How the hell could I work for you? You’d be constantly issuing edicts without considering my views on the subject,” I snapped. The floodgates of recriminations were opened now.

  “Jesus, I just wanted to bring you out for some fresh air. We’re sitting looking at one another and not saying a word. I thought we might as well go for a walk. I’m sorry if it seems like I’m bullying you.” He humphed in disgust and sat down again.

  “And what’s wrong with, ‘Would you like to go out for a while, Siobhan?’ instead of assuming I’ll dance to your jig every time? I have a brain, you know. I can make decisions for myself. You always do that—make demands, not requests.”

  “Do I?” he asked with some surprise.

  “Always.”

  “I’m sorry. We are unhappy being cooped up here uncomfortable with each other. It’s a beautiful day and Verulamium Park isn’t far from here. Would you like to go and get some fresh air and clear your head?”

  “That’s better,” I smiled. “Yes, that sounds lovely. See, that didn’t hurt did it?”

  “Come on, before I change my mind,” he grinned, grabbing the bread.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked in surprise.

  “No, but the ducks will be. They’d mug you for less. I’ll just leave a note for the folks.”

  Once we got to the park, he headed straight for the manmade lake. He was right; as soon as the ducks saw us approaching they were out of the water swarming us, and a couple of swans with their almost fully grown cygnets came right over to the water’s edge. The male swan hissed if we got too near his babies, but he was happy to take the scraps from our hands himself. We had to throw good and hard to make sure the others got their share.

  “Sometimes they divorce,” I commented for want of something to say.

  “What?”

  “Swans, they don’t always mate for life; sometimes they leave their partners and find a new one. I heard it on the radio, there was a study being done; the swans were tagged and two tagged swans came back the next year with a new partner each. Birds in their little nests don’t always agree, it seems.”

  Michael was looking at me as I spoke and breaking up some bread. Just then, a swan snatched it from his hand, biting him. He swore and I laughed; a proper heartfelt laugh for the first time in three days.

  “That’s better,” he said, rubbing his pinched finger. “I prefer to see you laughing than crying.” There were kids running around the park playing and shrieking and I had to admit that it was better than sitting around James’ house feeling sorry for myself.

  We went for a walk among the ash trees; I was listening to the sounds of our feet rustling the fallen autumn leaves. There were hundreds of wild saplings and absently Michael fingered them. Sighing heavily, he pulled one up and snapped it through the air with anger and frustration. He pulled more and more, each with increasing force.

  “Will you leave the poor trees alone, what have they done to you?” I said reasonably. That’s about twelve future trees you’ve destroyed. I hope there’s no park-keeper around.”

  “You know what I’d like to do with these? I’d like to make a birch and spank you into listening to me. But I know that’s not going to solve anything. I need to earn your trust, not your fear.” He swished the bunch of saplings through the air for effect. It set me shivering.

  “Maybe I should spank you for your lies and bullshit,” I countered crossly. The look on his face told it all. It had obviously never occurred to him that maybe he could be on the receiving end for a change.

  “I’d prefer to keep the spanking the other way round, Shiv, but if I thought it would help fix this, I’d try it. The last three days have been hell. I know it’s my own fault, but I miss you so much. Nothing’s the same. I’d give anything to start over, with a clean slate.”

  He had set me thinking. Maybe it would help if I got to take it out on his backside. Al
so it could help bring it closure. And he might just realise how bloody much he had hurt me. I was brooding inwardly and Michael seemed oppressed. He suggested it was time to return to the house for dinner. He quickly bundled the ash saplings in the car, hoping he wouldn’t be caught destroying public property, although he said the saplings grew wild and plentiful and usually had to be thinned out each year to ensure they all got enough light.

  “You’re on,” I said out of the blue.

  “Pardon?”

  “You’re on—I’ll give you a spanking and see does it help put this behind us. After dinner, we’ll go to your place. “

  I could see he didn’t know whether to be relieved at getting another chance or horrified at the thought of being spanked. I could see he was getting no kick from it, not like I did. Before every spanking, no matter how nervous or chastised I felt, there was always a thrill of butterflies and excitement.

  “Fuck it, ok. How bad can it be? If you think you might be able to forgive me…”

  “No promises, but it’s worth a try.” I have to admit, I was getting a bit of a thrill at the thought of the Dominatrix role. It was totally new for us. And I really wanted to make him feel my pain. It was a new characteristic in me; I didn’t normally have a sadistic streak. I didn’t know if it was purely a desire for revenge, or the start of yet another new sexual awakening.