by Liz Bower
Chapter Nine
The days following Lucy’s visit were quiet. And made me realise that I was kind of hiding at home in Marsdon. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone out with friends in Manchester. I’d never been much of a partier, but I was kind of a hermit these days.
But I spent all day Wednesday making a cake for a christening. An order had come in the day following my return from Malta. It was an easy request. A two-tier cake covered in white icing and decorated with blue and green bunting flags. On the top, three blue dice to spell out the name Sam. It was cute and fun to make.
Then I’d seen a video clip online where a woman made flowerpots from cake and decorated the top into the shape of a cactus. Lost most of the following day trying to recreate them, but it had been enjoyable trying something new. Pushing myself to learn new skills. Although I doubted I would be getting any orders for anything like that anytime soon.
Fun until I missed an email from the agency about an interview, which was how I’d ended up being woken up by a phone interview I hadn’t known about. I needed to spend more time in the real world. Totally winged the call, but I must have convinced them I was a fully functioning adult worth hiring. I didn’t remember most of what I had said on the call, but there I was Monday morning the first day of a new job. For a law firm based in Marsdon.
It had been a quiet commute compared to the cramped train rides into the centre of Manchester I was used to. Instead, a peaceful walk along the canal gazing across to the hills in the distance. Through the streets of terraced housing as I got closer to the town centre. Until I was standing outside an old imposing building.
And I wasn’t nervous in the slightest. Not at all. Totally ignored the slight shake to my fingers as I reached for the door handle. I’d never worked for a law firm before. They probably just needed someone to do the filing and photocopying. Dullsville. But having food in the cupboards was always a bonus. Even though the position was only for a couple of weeks to cover someone on sick leave, that much I remembered.
I was greeted by a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a tailored blue suit that fit him like a second skin who introduced himself as Mr Benson.
“Ms Hardwick. I’m so glad you could start at such short notice. This way.”
He held out his arm and proceeded to show me to my desk where he dumped a pile of audio files that needed typing up and a list of clients who needed their court documents prepared. Prepared for what, I had no idea. He hurried off as soon as I sat down and left me to figure it out for myself.
He’d already logged me on to the computer so I opened a Word document. I’d start on the audio files because that seemed relatively easy.
Two hours later, I found out they weren’t. It was frustrating having to keep stopping and rewinding the file because I couldn’t type fast enough and the language was dry and confusing.
“How are you getting on? Nearly done?”
At Mr Benson’s question, I looked up my eyebrows raised. He expected me to have finished all this already? “Er, not quite. The audio files are taking longer than I thought.” His eyes narrowed as he pretty much glared at me.
“But you can touch type, right?”
I couldn’t help but squirm in my seat under his accusatory look. Especially as my CV did not say I could. I shook my head.
“But you’ve finished preparing the court documents, yes?”
My cheeks burned at the tone of his voice, whole body flushing. It was like being back in high school when my Year Nine Geography teacher would ask me a question I didn’t know the answer to. And then would tell me a student in Year Seven could answer it. Just once, I wished I’d had the nerve to tell him to go ask a Year Seven student instead. Of course I hadn’t. “I haven’t started on them yet. I was going to ask you how I should prepare them.”
His lips pressed together until they formed a thin white line.
“You do have experience in Family Law, don’t you?”
Now why would he think that? “Erm…no?”
“Are you asking me or telling me you don’t?”
Oh, I so wanted to be anywhere else right then. “I’m telling you I don’t.” Then I threaded my fingers together in my lap, nails digging into the backs of my hands. Mr Benson threw his hands up in the air.
“I knew it was too good to be true that we could get someone on such short notice. You’re no good to me if you don’t have Family Law experience.”
Wow, tell it like it is, don’t spare my feelings or anything.
“I’m going to have to contact the agency and complain.”
Yeah and I’d bet he’d enjoy doing it too. “I’m sorry, Mr Benson, I don’t know why they sent me for this job, but I’ll be contacting them too.” All I got was a curt nod.
“We won’t be paying for the hours you’ve done. You might as well go home.”
He swivelled on his heel and stalked off. Arsehole. It wasn’t my fault, and he didn’t have to be such a dick about it. I grabbed my handbag from under the desk and hurried out of the office.
Just wait until I got home. Belinda at the agency was going to get an earful. Because that wasn’t mortifying or anything.
By the time I’d reached my house, I’d calmed down some. But I was still calling the agency to find out what the hell had happened.
But a half hour later—still on the sofa where I’d thrown myself when I got in—my mobile rang. Belinda.
“Kimberly, I’m so sorry. I’ve just got off the phone with Mr Benson.”
“What happened, Belinda? That was humiliating, and he was a complete ass about it.”
“It was our fault. I’m so sorry. Somehow the CVs got mixed up. The front page of yours went out with the page of someone else’s that had the relevant experience for the job as far as I can tell from going through our records. The phone interview was a formality to see how you would deal with clients over the phone, but it wasn’t you they should have called. I explained the mix-up to Mr Benson.”
The sound of my deep exhale echoed through the phone. Shame they couldn’t have spotted the mix-up before I’d shown up. Although I guess it was partly my fault. Should have been prepared for the phone interview and maybe I would have realised. “It’s okay.” Well, it wasn’t, but there was nothing that could change what had happened.
“It’s not okay. It should never have happened. But the good news is I have a job offer for you. It’s for an accounting firm in Manchester.”
That sounded almost as bad as working at a law firm. Maybe it was time to put aside the dream of baking for a living and find a full-time office job again. Or a full-time job baking somewhere. But most places wanted someone with real experience.
Or I could get a job at the bottom and work my way up. Except that was one of the main reasons I wanted my own business. I’d have artistic freedom. At least within the client’s requirements. I chewed on the inside of my cheek as my thoughts went back and forth.
“Kimberly?”
Oops, Belinda was expecting some kind of response from me. “I’m not sure. Do they know I have no experience working for an accounting firm?”
“Yes, I spoke to them myself. They need someone with experience working with spreadsheets and basic maths skills. They only need someone for a month to clear a backlog left behind from two people leaving the team.”
Excel and maths I could do. Still, after the debacle earlier I was hesitant. “Why did they leave?”
“Who?”
“You said two people left, why?”
“Oh. Erm…”
I could hear the shuffle of papers over the line.
“One left the firm and the other was promoted. It’s a good firm. Small, with only two senior accountants. Plus, they really need someone to start straight away.”
A small firm was good. The idea of working in a big corporate company made me shudder. The money I could definitely do with. Maybe it could be my last job. That would give me a month to figure out what I was going to d
o. “And what? They just need someone to do what?”
“Some basic number crunching, they said. Entering data into their systems which they’d show you how to use and then running some reports. Nothing too complicated.”
Okay, that sounded like something I could handle. “And they’d want me to start when?”
“Next week if possible for a month. I suggested you might be available on Monday. It’s similar to the last job you had in Manchester. Just for an accountancy firm this time. You can do this, Kimberly.”
I still wasn’t convinced. “And you’re sure they’re okay with someone who’s never worked in an accounting firm before?”
“I know we don’t normally send you to these kinds of firms, but Louise is still off sick. And I know now isn’t a great time to ask you for a favour but this is a new firm to us, and I’d really like to be able to fill the position for them. I spoke to the man who you would report to, Tony. He seems really nice, and he’s okay with you having no experience. Plus, it’s in Manchester so the pay is more than what you would have got working in Marsdon.”
More pay was always a bonus. And Manchester would be a relatively short commute on the train. Belinda had never asked me for a favour before, and it was only a month.
“Okay, fine. I’ll start next Monday.”
Chapter Ten
And the following week had come around far too quickly. There I was Monday morning, nervous and undecided on what to wear as shown by the pile of discarded outfits littering my bed. Which was ridiculous. It was only a temping job for a month, if that. But after the last one…
It wasn’t like I owned a lot of clothes I could wear to the office. The company I’d worked for full-time had been pretty casual. And when I’d started at the agency, I’d invested in some trousers and shirts that I could wear out of work too. Because spending the cash on a suit where I wasn’t trying to impress the boss to keep me on full-time had seemed like a waste of money.
Blowing the long pieces of fringe out of my eyes with a huff, I pulled on a pair of black trousers. Couldn’t go wrong with those. I settled on my favourite forest-green blouse, high necked with sheer sleeves. One I normally wore on a night out paired with several silver bangles and a pair of wide-legged moss-green trousers which I didn’t think I’d get away with wearing on the first day of a job.
A glance at the clock told me that would have to do or I’d be late. Grabbing my handbag on the way out, I headed to the train station.
A half hour train ride later, I arrived at Manchester Piccadilly station. A brisk five-minute walk and I was in front of Cooper Garson Limited’s building. It wasn’t obvious. A glass-fronted coffee shop, already filled with customers wanting their caffeine fix, with a narrow blue door to the side. A plaque with the firm’s initials—C & G Ltd—was the only clue I was in the right place. I rang the buzzer, and the door lock clicked open. Pulling the strap of my handbag higher up my shoulder, I climbed the wooden stairs.
At the top of the staircase, the office opened out into a room on either side. Shiny wooden floors reflected the light of the many windows along the wall. All open plan apart from two sections that had been closed off to make private offices.
“Kimberly?”
I turned around to be greeted by a college-aged woman with long blonde hair.
“I’m Fiona from HR. If you follow me, I’ll get you set up for the day.”
So I did, and the first morning passed the same as any other of my usual temping jobs did in a blur of faces and procedures. Being shown where the bathroom and fire exits were and a video on money laundering. I was hoping they’d give me a copy of it in case I ever needed help getting to sleep one night.
Tony—my supervisor—showed me to my desk, and introduced me to Jaz, the guy sitting opposite me. Then left me with a pile of papers that needed entering into their systems.
Jaz moved along his desk until he could see me around the computer and gave me a smile I couldn’t help but return. And he was cute. Skin the colour of burnt caramel and eyes so dark that they almost looked black. Hair cropped short to his head and a scattering of black stubble across his chin.
“If you need help with anything, give me a shout.”
“Thanks. You may regret that offer.”
His laugh was a deep rumble. “No worries. I still remember my first day. Remember it more as a daze of new people and not knowing what the hell I was doing. Not sure the last bit’s any different now.”
I laughed. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up so far.”
It was early afternoon by the time I looked up from the pile of papers that didn’t seem to be getting any smaller despite my best efforts.
“I’m going to do a coffee run. Can I get you something?” Jaz asked.
“God yes. I’d love a cappuccino. I might not make it through this lot otherwise. Thanks.”
“That’s okay. It’s your turn tomorrow,” he replied with a flash of a smile. I returned my attention back to the next set of numbers waiting for me.
“Jaz?”
My hand stilled at the familiar voice.
“I was off on a coffee run. Can I get you one, Kyle?”
“Sure. A mocha, please. Then can we go through the Gallagher accounts?”
I recognised that voice. Had heard it in my dreams often enough whispering words into my ear as we lay together in bed. Slowly I lifted my head to see the spiky dark brown hair of the head bent over Jaz’s desk. Jaz glanced my way then wagged a finger between us.
“Kimberly, have you met our account manager, Kyle Robinson? Kyle, Kimberly is our new temp. First day so don’t scare her off.”
Kyle laughed and lifted his head from over the paperwork on Jaz’s desk. Rich, brown eyes widened as they met mine, and the laugh died on his lips. Lips I had kissed. Lips that had tasted my skin. A voice I never thought I’d hear again. The man I thought I’d never see again but had wanted to. So much.
But there he was, just as gorgeous as I remembered. In a suit. A suit? Mr I’m-used-to-high-risk-situations was what? An accountant? That was definitely or something. When he’d said high-risk situations, I had visions of death-defying leaps out of aeroplanes, machine gun slung across his back. Maybe he had a different definition of high risk: gambling with money. Not quite what I had imagined him having to do when called away in the middle of the night for work. In fact, I couldn’t imagine why he would be. An accounting emergency? Seemed unlikely.
And a little disappointing. Had I built him up in my head to be this exciting, lifesaving, action type of man? I mean he was still sexy as hell, but…an accountant? It didn’t fit the image of the man I remembered from that night.
We stared at each other, the silence a gulf between us.
Wait. Jaz had introduced him as Kyle. What happened to Beck?
My eyes watered, and I tried to swallow around the tightness in my throat. Hurt washed over me swiftly followed by confusion. I coughed to try and clear my throat. “No. I don’t believe I have met Kyle.”
Beck. Beck I’d met. On an intimate level. But why would he lie about his name? Or his job? Imply it was more interesting than being an accountant when he’d probably never see me again? There was no reason to lie to me about who he was.
The moment he introduced himself on the plane flashed through my mind. Why would he lie about his name then? To a stranger he thought he would never see again. Could easily have said he worked in an office. Not or something like he had which led me to believe…I don’t know what, not a suit working nine to five in an office.
Kyle held out his hand across the desk towards me. I stared at those long, tapered fingers with their blunt nails. Fingers that had caressed me, nails that had scraped across my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
Jaz glanced between us, a frown creasing his forehead. If I didn’t want to face twenty questions from him later, I needed to pull myself together.
Pasting my best effort of a smile onto my face I slipped my hand into his. Eyes closing at the
contact as memories of that night played in slow motion, and the touch of his warm, calloused hand shot a jolt of awareness straight up my arm and tightened my chest.
I yanked my hand from his grasp. “A pleasure to meet you.” And then added with a touch of snark, “Kyle.”
At least he had the decency to drop his gaze. Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard then cleared his throat. “Likewise.” His eyes closed briefly before he busied himself with the papers on Jaz’s desk again. “I hope you enjoy working here. If you need anything, Jaz should be able to help you.” He clapped a hand on Jaz’s shoulder, turning his back to me. “Come to my office when you get back with the coffees.”
And then he strode away without a backward glance. Like he hadn’t just thrown a bomb into my life then walked off with no explanation before any of the debris could hit him. Left me to try and figure out where all the pieces were supposed to go.
“Erm. Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
No, I wasn’t okay. Not really. But I wasn’t about to try and explain to Jaz that the guy I’d slept with—couldn’t stop thinking about even though I thought I’d never see again—had just turned up as my boss. Sort of. “Yeah, I’m fine. Bit of a headache, that’s all,” I lied. Jaz didn’t seem convinced, but I hoped he’d drop the subject.
“Okay. I thought you were going to drop a bombshell about our new boss.” He glanced over his shoulder before carrying on. “He’s really…private. It’s driving everyone in the office crazy trying to find out anything about him. Doesn’t join us for office drinks when we occasionally go out. And Linda’s made it her mission to find out about him by using her so-called womanly ways.”
He laughed as he shook his head. I had to repress a shudder at the idea of being one in a long line of women from the office that had slept with Beck. Kyle. Whatever the hell his name was. “New boss? So, he hasn’t worked here that long then?”
Jaz shook his head. “He only started at the beginning of the month.”
As I tried to do the numbers in my head my eyebrows drew together. So Beck had probably started there right around the time we met. “Did he replace someone?” Jaz leaned in closer across the desk.
