I’m intrigued about the story there but it’s none of my business. ‘It wasn’t a criticism, just an observation.’
‘Yes, well, back to the facts. The business has grown more recently to include chains of hotels, casinos, media companies and a small banking arm. The organisation currently employs over ten thousand people.’
Interesting how he refers to it as ‘the organisation’ and doesn’t take personal credit for it, like he’s talking about something someone else has done. But he should be proud. He may not have clawed his way to the top through hard grind, but he’s made the business more successful since taking over and he must work punishing hours for such rapid expansion. The spoilt rich playboy I was worried he might be would surely have run a company into the ground over the years, or at best let it stagnate?
‘Thanks for the summary.’ I cross my legs. ‘So what do you need this weekend?’
‘You’re here to support me, set up presentations, attend meetings, take minutes and so on. Any problems with that?’
‘No, none whatsoever.’ I may be rusty but I’ll manage.
‘Great. Do you need to know anything more right now? It’s just that I need to finish off some emails.’ He waves the tablet at me.
‘No, that’s fine. Go ahead.’
‘Thank you.’
As he turns back to his task, I twist my hands together. This plan has to work. If I don’t get a proper job soon, a move back home is in the offing, along with asking Jess to buy me out of my half of the mortgage, which I know she’ll struggle to do. To my shame I’ve not been able to pay my share for the last two months. She can’t afford to keep propping us up, we both know it – we just haven’t had the conversation yet. I guess we keep hoping something will change, that something good will happen. Maybe this assignment is it?
Blowing out a long breath, I chew my bottom lip. Imagine having to move back in with my parents after so many years of independence. They’ll think they were right all along, that I should never have left the village. I can just picture having to face everyone. They’ll be so smug my adventure to the big city didn’t work out because they all love living in a quaint little corner of the world with traditional values. I shudder at the thought of being on the receiving end of all those pitying looks, the object of gossip. And the thought of leaving London makes me breathless. Before Tony arrived I had a job I loved, a nice flat, a fun social life, dates with creative musicians and jobbing actors, a fantastic circle of friends and great colleagues. Most of that’s gone … I can’t handle losing the last of it.
I wonder what my ex-colleagues are up to. Do they still have the same nights out, the after-hours parties? Despite being manager I was still part of the group, and Kitty (best croupier in the casino, according to her) and I were friends. I worked really hard, sometimes stupidly long hours, but I played hard too. Kitty and I had lots of adventures together, occasionally joined by Jess, and got ourselves into some pretty memorable situations. Walking through the city barefoot in the rain at three in the morning because our high heels were killing us; wearing giant cardboard boxes painted and taped up to look like Rubik’s cubes for a fancy-dress party; playing poker on a random rich guy’s yacht moored up at Canary Wharf. If I have to move back to my parents’, I’ll miss the bright lights of the city, the music and gigs, bustle of people and our laughter, usually fuelled by a mixture of white wine and Cosmos.
There haven’t been any fun nights out in months. I miss them. I glance over at Alex. Fun isn’t a word I’d use to describe him. Okay, so he’s laughed and cracked a couple of smiles and this is a business situation not a social one but still, he’s wound so tight, is so snappy and defensive. Perhaps not surprising given the responsibility he’s had since he was twenty-four – just three years younger than I am now. Maybe he doesn’t get a lot of down time.
I don’t think I’d be ready to take on a role with such massive accountability. Alex is responsible for keeping thousands of people in jobs; it’s a hell of a pressure for one person. No doubt he’s got a great team, but at the end of the day it all comes down to him. Could I do it? Would I want it? Building on a Business Studies NVQ from college, I got a distinction in a distance-learning professional qualification in people management and business administration a few years ago whilst working full-time and it damned near killed me. I loved learning and it helped when applying for the management job, but my social life went into sharp decline as a result. I was constantly turning down dates and cancelling plans in favour of staying in to do research or write assignments.
It made me wonder whether you can hold down a high-level job and still have time for other things, like love and family. None of the guys I dated during that time understood what I was trying to achieve. One of them labelled me a geek, nose stuck in a book when I could be out enjoying myself. He was right, I am a geek, and proud of it, so the stereotype didn’t bother me. The issue was that he didn’t respect my ambition and desire to better myself. Which makes my current situation even more agonising. I loved working hard and contributing to the bottom line of a company, leading and being part of a team. I have to get that back if I can.
Sitting up, I anchor myself in the now. Even if I wouldn’t want to be CEO, there’s clearly an upside – the job must really pay – because our car’s stopping on the edge of a private airstrip. The smooth concrete runway is frosted with ice and surrounded by snow-covered shrubs, grass and miles of empty space. The mega-wealthy really do live in a different world. I expected a charter flight from a regional airport, not a private jet like on Criminal Minds. This is well out of my league, but oh, what a lovely league. Undoing my seatbelt as the car stops, I try to hide my eagerness to get on the plane and look around. There’s still an excited little girl inside the corporate woman.
‘Ready?’ Alex asks, unbuckling his belt.
‘Definitely.’
He smiles and it ignites a tripwire straight to my knickers. Thankfully the driver opens the door so I scramble out the car, handbag clutched to my side.
‘Thank you.’ I nod at the driver, holding my hair back from my face in the battering wind.
‘No problem, Miss Caswell.’
Trailing after him, I shiver as he walks to the rear of the car.
As he pops open the boot lid I reach across him to grab my case but he’s too quick for me, hauling it out onto the concrete. ‘Allow me.’
Acknowledging his win with a wry smile, I watch him lift out a weekend bag, suit carrier and briefcase, before carrying everything over to the awaiting cabin crew.
Climbing from the car, Alex tucks all gadgets away in his pockets and strides over to his driver, clasping the man’s shoulder. ‘Thanks Evan, have a safe journey home and enjoy your long weekend off. Say hello to your wife for me.’
‘I certainly will, sir, on all counts. Thank you.’
‘Good. I’ll see you here on Monday evening?’
‘Yes, I’ll be here. You have a safe journey as well.’ Tipping his cap, he marches back to the car.
Interesting there’s a respectful relationship between the two men. But then, it’s only female employees my temporary boss has a problem with, isn’t it?
Alex walks over to join me as the long black vehicle pulls away smoothly. ‘Ready to go?’
Not at all. My feet are stuck to the floor. If I get on the sleek-looking plane, that’s it, no going back. Plan B. Temporary PA. In Barcelona. Undercover ex-employee. Working with the hot CEO. But what would I say if I don’t go? To Alex? More, to myself, for not at least trying? So I take a deep breath and reply, ‘Sure.’
He points at the metal steps set against the side of the luxury plane. ‘You first.’
‘Thank you.’ Careful to watch my footing as I clank upwards, I pray I won’t slip and tumble backwards on to Alex. There’s an inherent clumsiness running through me like a current and I’ve no wish for it to be on show this weekend. It’s something I can normally keep under wraps, but my reactions this afternoon have been an
ything but normal so far.
I duck under the door frame as I step aboard. At five foot nine I usually feel like a towering behemoth, especially since I hit that height at thirteen and curves erupted all over the place. It doesn’t help that adorably petite women seem to occupy the world. Wearing high heels makes me even taller but they give me confidence. I ignore the little voice inside my head whispering Alex is a good few inches over six foot and I don’t feel like a behemoth standing beside him.
Entering the main cabin, I hold back the uncool gasp longing to break free, but my eyes feel a metre wide and my mouth drops open. When people talk about the height of luxury, they’re not kidding. Plush velvety black carpet gives the cabin a cosy feel and a dozen matching executive chairs and small, expensive-looking tables are bolted to the floor in three groups, instead of the narrow, torturous seats on the planes I usually fly on. The plastic walls are white with the bottom half navy, almost the same shade as Alex’s eyes. Everywhere I look there are lights and sockets.
Alex squeezes past me, oblivious to the tiny space between us. Shame I can’t say the same. My nipples stand to attention at the waves of heat emanating from his body and my cheeks flush. It’s become a humiliating habit in the last hour.
‘Bathroom through there,’ Alex nods to a narrow door across the cabin, ‘why don’t you sit, get comfortable?’ His tone is offhand. ‘Just like all the rest.’ He mumbles beneath his breath, looking furious.
‘Pardon?’
‘Nothing.’ He shakes his head. ‘Just … sit down and strap up. We’re taking off soon.’
‘Please don’t tell me to shut up!’ But I drop into one of the padded chairs anyway and glare at him.
Something in his gaze flickers and he strides over to crouch down in front of me, putting his hands to my waist. What the hell is he doing?
Chapter Four
‘I said strap up, not shut up.’ Staring into my eyes, he grabs both ends of the seatbelt, pushing the tongue decisively into the buckle. I clutch the armrests. ‘I’d never speak to a staff member that way.’
If he hadn’t gone on about boundaries earlier, the intense expression on his face might make me wonder if he finds me attractive. He held my hand for longer than necessary when I took my little trip into his lap too … but no, those are crazy, unwelcome thoughts.
‘Sorry,’ my mouth is suddenly so dry I worry my lips will stick to my teeth, ‘my mistake.’
‘Yes, it is.’ Grabbing the spare end of the belt with a sure hand, Alex tightens it slowly and smoothly. The practical action is so erotic it’s ridiculous. Frozen to the seat, I’m ultra-aware of his broad shoulders and how close he is. I inhale his crisp, sexy aftershave; hear the even sound of his breathing; notice the tiny lines at the corner of his blue eyes, which add an extra zing of charisma. Skin fizzing, my nipples peak again and I gulp. Hard.
All the reasons for staying professional are forgotten. I want to lean forward, drive my hands into that thick, dark hair and kiss him, nibble on that biteable lower lip and get lost in the sensation of his tanned, confident hands all over me.
‘No problem,’ he says, with a funny twisted smile, breaking the spell, standing to take the chair opposite.
‘Huh?’ I blink, dazed. Why does he look so annoyed? What was all that about?
As the plane lifts off, I stare at the carpet, my body humming along with the vibration of the aircraft. My emotions feel as tangled as the Christmas lights Jess and I recently bundled up and shoved away in the hallway cupboard.
I’m attracted to a man I can’t have.
It’s that complicated and that simple.
As soon as the seatbelt signs ping off, Alex wordlessly moves across the cabin. Sliding a slimline laptop from his briefcase, he’s soon fascinated by whatever is on it, but his focus is so fixed it feels like he’s freezing me out deliberately. Is he angry because after what he said in the car about female employees and my reassurances he picked up my physical reaction to him? Awkward.
Fanning my face, I catch the eye of the pretty, blonde cabin attendant. ‘Can I have some water please?’
‘Of course, Madam.’ She smiles politely.
Moments later she places a sparkling water in front of me, complete with perfectly squared ice cubes and a succulent slice of lemon. I hold the glass to the light, half expecting it to be encrusted with diamonds, or the water to be flecked with gold. I flush as I catch her watching me quizzically, before she edges away like I’m a mad woman.
Gulping back some water, my thoughts flow toward Alex again. It’s strange, playing it cool with men has never been a challenge. Perhaps because until now they’ve only ever provoked lukewarm reactions, as opposed to scorching-hot ones?
Alex is still frowning at his laptop when I look over. Admiring his long muscular frame, thick dark hair and gorgeous face, lust packs me a punch and I feel like I’ve been knocked out by a world heavyweight. What is it about him? I’ve known plenty of fit guys, men who are handsome and charming. I even had a brief thing with a wealthy banker; not my usual type at all. He was really attentive, lavishing me with luxury gifts and treating me to expensive meals, but when I wouldn’t sleep with him on our fourth date he backed off. To be honest, I was glad not to have to dodge his calls.
Alex is more than good looks and wealth, though. He has a confidence and complexity which make me gravitate towards him like the moon to the Earth, even though his ideas about women should repel me..
I have to put distance between us.
Shame it didn’t work with my assistant, who I was definitely not interested in. Cringing, I rest my head against the padded seat, mind zipping back to the time that work went from good to ugly without stopping at bad.
Then
My manager John was supportive and lovely, with years of experience that I learnt a lot from. The last of the old-fashioned gentlemen, he and his wife doted on their four grandchildren, even with his late shifts, and I loved listening to his stories about their youngest granddaughter’s quest for a full working monkey tail. He made coming to work a pleasure and everyone was sad when he retired early.
‘I’ll be leaving in three months’ time,’ he sank into the chair behind his desk, ‘and I think you should apply for my job.’
‘You do?’ I dropped into the chair opposite. ‘I’ve only been your PA for fifteen months.’
He smiled at me, adjusting one of the photos on his desk by a millimetre. ‘I’ve been part of your journey from casual bar staff to temporary front-of-house receptionist to supervising the whole customer-care team. You had some of the best sales when you worked on the floor – the customers love you – and your local marketing campaigns were very innovative. You were appointed PA because I’ve watched you grow passionate about the casino and thought your manner and organisational skills were exceptional.’
‘Thanks.’ I smiled, warmed by his praise.
‘I’m just calling it as I see it and in the last year you’ve only improved. You’ve got a knack for finances and the customer and are a capable young woman.’ He picked up his trademark silver fountain pen, placing it in the pot on his desk. ‘Which is why I campaigned so hard for the company to fund the business admin course.’
‘Yes, and I’ve really appreciated the support, the way you’ve let me interview colleagues, and have extra days off, or swap shifts.’
‘I know you’ve appreciated it.’ He sat further forward. ‘It’s been obvious in your dedication and energy.’
‘I’m glad,’ I smiled, tapping my Biro against my notepad. ‘And you know I value your opinion.’ I hesitated. ‘I am interested, but I’m worried it might be too soon.’
‘Nonsense.’ He waved a hand as if swatting away a hyperactive fly. ‘I have complete confidence in you. You know the job better than anyone, and you’ve seen me doing it up close and personal for long enough.’ He was right. Part of the reason for becoming his PA was to understand what it took to be a manager. ‘I think you’ve got the skills for it,’ he continu
ed. ‘You just need to believe in yourself. Nothing ventured, nothing gained and all that.’
I hid a smile. He always came out with clichés. They were part of his charm and impossible not to inadvertently copy. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll give it some serious thought and let you know what I decide.’
Discussing the idea of applying with Jess, who’d replied with a heartening, ‘Go for it!’ I was stunned to be offered the job after a demanding recruitment process. My team leadership experience was limited and I was certain there were better-qualified candidates but John’s reference and the policy of internal progression meant I was given the chance to prove myself. For the first eighteen months I did, and it was fantastic. Mandy, the assistant I recruited directly from the reception team, was lovely. She was eager to please and efficient and we got on well. Then she went on maternity leave and decided not to return and I got handed Tony Ferrier as part of an internal transfer I never got to the bottom of.
In his mid-twenties, broad–shouldered, squat and slightly pinkish, he reminded me of an ex-public school boy, swaggering around the place from the beginning. But he was polite enough, did his work with a minimum of fuss and didn’t create any drama, so I didn’t think I had reason to worry. At first we got on okay and shared a few jokes.
One Monday I came into the office and frowned, studying him. ‘You look a bit green Tony. Are you all right to be here?’
‘Yes,’ he smiled looking sickly, his normally pink cheeks pale. ‘I’ve been on a stag weekend. The after-effects are getting to me, that’s all.’
‘Right. Well, take it easy, drink plenty of water,’ I disappeared into my office and came back out, handing him a pack of tablets and can of energy drink, ‘and make use of these.’
‘Thanks.’ Taking them from me gratefully: ‘Do you suffer with hangovers often then?’
‘No. I keep a stock of stuff hanging around for staff. It comes from most of them working into the early hours. It’s hard for them to fall asleep when they finish, they’re still buzzing, so there’s a tendency to go for after-work drinks.’
The Little Shop of Afternoon Delights Page 26
