by Lynda Renham
‘Good morning madam. May I be of service?’
I look around the building with envious eyes. Soft furnishings line the foyer and smartly dressed employees wander back and forth carrying folders and looking very important. I used to look like that once. Now I wear a low-cut top with a name badge saying Binki - Here to serve your sexual needs, and looking very unimportant. I don’t mean I’m wearing it now, obviously. Christ, I wouldn’t have got past the doorman if I was. No good applying for a job here is there? No doubt Ben Newman has put the word around here that man-eating Binki Grayson is on the loose looking for a job and someone’s husband to go with it. Oh God, what if William heard that too? This is so embarrassing. I daren’t give the doorman my real name; I’ll be thrown out on my ear.
‘I’m here to see William Ellis,’ I say, giving him my most appealing smile.
‘That’s the third floor. The lifts are just over there. I’ll need to search your bag if you don’t mind madam.’
Oh crikey, I hadn’t thought of that. I struggle to think of what may be in there that would certainly give away my identity. I hesitate for a second and his smile begins to turn into a frown.
‘Just trying to remember if I’ve got my spare knickers in here,’ I say, feigning embarrassment.
There’s only my driving licence and credit cards with my name on. He isn’t going to rummage through my purse. That’s far too small to hold a bomb isn’t it?
‘Yes, well we can’t be too careful can we?’ he says with a smile.
‘No quite, my mum always said I should carry a spare pair.’
God, what am I saying? Someone just kill me.
‘Yes, I meant we can’t be too careful when it comes to security these days.’
Absolutely, I have to agree. Even I thought I looked like your typical maniac when I glanced in the mirror the other day. So if anyone has something to declare it’s bound to be me right?
I hand my handbag over. He rummages through it, pulling out Oliver’s Brands Hatch voucher that I had forgotten about. The doorman hands back my bag.
‘Can’t be too careful,’ he repeats.
‘No, I agree.’
After all, you should see the size of my handbag. I could get a Kalashnikov in there and a few grenades and it still wouldn’t bulge. I wander over to the lifts feeling perspiration from my armpits. Honestly, this is ridiculous. I’m not a terrorist. I’m just Binki Grayson infamous man-eater. I see the doorman looking at me curiously as I hesitate at the lift entrance.
‘Third floor,’ he says again, nodding.
I give him a friendly wave and step into the lift. The doors close and open again after a few seconds. I am not sure the lift moved as everything looks the same, except the doorman has changed into a pretty blonde at a shiny oak reception desk. She gives me a broad smile and I do try to smile back but all I can think is bitch, how come no one wants to have you over a desk. It then occurs to me that maybe William does have her over the desk. I shudder as I approach her.
‘Hello, can I help?’ she asks pleasantly.
‘I’m here to see William Ellis.’
She opens an appointment book. Oh bloody great.
‘What time is your appointment?’
This is worse than the doorman.
‘I don’t actually have an appointment. I was …’
She shakes her head, her sparkly diamond earrings swinging wildly with her.
‘Mr Ellis is very busy I’m afraid. He doesn’t see anyone unless they have an appointment. Can I get him to call you? What was the name?’
‘Binki,’ says a man from behind me.
Good God, I didn’t even open my mouth. I turn to see Nathan walking out of the lift.
‘Hey, what are you doing here?’
It’s said with a smile but there is suspicion in his eyes. He looks very handsome in a pink striped shirt and well-cut jacket, if you’re into that kind of bloke.
‘You’re certainly a sight to brighten my day,’ he says. ‘Let me give you a tour. William’s at lunch with a client. Lucky bugger, he always gets the lookers for lunch where I always get the old duffers,’ he laughs.
I find myself wondering who the looker is.
‘So what brings you here?’ he asks again.
I rack my brains, come up with nothing and say,
‘Curiosity.’
He nods.
‘Well you know what they say about curiosity and the cat,’ he says leading me through a door.
‘So this is Ellis Financial Investments and here is my office.’ He opens the door to a tidy large office with a massive desk in the centre of the room. I bet that’s seen some action. Oh what’s wrong with me, just because Ben Newman tried to get me over the table it doesn’t mean everyone is doing it. Further down the corridor he opens another door where two women are busy typing away on their computer keyboards.
‘Where the work really gets done,’ he laughs.
I feel his hand slide around my waist and move away from him. He drops it quickly and stops outside another door.
‘And this is William’s office. Best to knock, you must know all about that.’
I feel my face grow hot
‘What does that mean?’ I say sharply.
He opens the door, peeks inside and says with a grin,
‘No action here. He really is at lunch.’
‘How dare you,’ I say angrily.
‘We’ve all heard the rumours darling, and rumours I’m sure they are. Look, I don’t approve of men harassing women at work but you can’t expect William to give you a job just because he knows you.’
I turn around to face him.
‘I’m not here for a job,’ I snap and walk to the lift.
The lift pings as the doors open and William strolls out. His warm brown eyes widen at the sight of me.
‘Hey,’ he smiles.
‘I’ve been showing Binki around,’ Nathan says.
William’s eyes light up. He seems genuinely pleased to see me and I feel my body relax.
‘Great. That heating guy hasn’t blown the house up has he?’ he laughs.
I follow him along the hallway, feeling Nathan’s eyes boring into my back as I do so. William stops and turns to him.
‘The lunch went well, can you get the contracts over to Wildings before she changes her mind, and I’ll need you to get on to Tokyo to find out what’s holding up things their end. Any word on that new company you mentioned yesterday?’
‘I’ll chase up Tokyo now. Any news on Roche by the way? Did he agree to meet with you?’ asks Nathan casually.
I pretend to fiddle in my handbag and William avoids my eyes.
‘No, nothing from Roche, we’ll have to cut our losses on that one but I’m not sure how we’ll cope with it. Anyway, let me know the news from Tokyo and copy me in on any emails.’
I sense Nathan is being dismissed and within seconds William has ushered me into his office. For some stupid reason I feel an overwhelming urge to cry but instead I say,
‘I’m not here for a job and I don’t know what you’ve been told or what you think of me but I’m not a man-eating bitch who spends her life sprawled over her boss’s desk. So, if that’s what you’re expecting, you couldn’t be more wrong.’
I finish and fall into an armchair. He looks at me and shakes his head.
‘As amazed as you may be, that was the last thing on my mind, actually it wasn’t on my mind at all …’
For some reason I feel disappointed.
‘I’m not appealing enough to be sprawled over your desk, is that what you’re trying to say?’
He sighs.
‘Whatever I say is going to be wrong isn’t it?’
He clicks a button on his desk phone.
‘Jen, could we have two coffees in my office. Thanks.’
He sits opposite me.
‘Actually, the thought of having you sprawled across my desk is very appealing, but I don’t sprawl women over my desk.’
He doe
sn’t? That’s good to know isn’t it?
‘Not even at Christmas?’ I say.
‘Most certainly not at Christmas,’ he smiles.
Oh dear, I’ve gone and made a total fool of myself haven’t I? A middle-aged lady with dark-rimmed glasses and red permed hair comes in with a tray of coffee, places the cups on the table and leaves without saying a word.
‘That’s Jen, my PA and I can assure you I have never had her sprawled on my desk at Christmas or at any other time of the year.
I laugh and look into his warm smiling eyes.
‘So what brings you here, apart from telling me you don’t sprawl over desks?’
‘I wondered if I could look at anything else you have on Optimun and anything on Roche, I would like to be as informed as possible on Friday, if that’s okay?’
He clicks his fingers.
‘Ah, that reminds me, Roche wants to take us to this exclusive place he likes in Chinatown. It’s bound to be upmarket so you’ll need a cocktail dress, which I’m happy to pay for.’
I go to protest.
‘You’re helping me out and I want to buy the dress, okay.’
He opens a drawer and removes a bottle of aspirin.
‘I don’t know about you but I’ve got a hell of a hangover from yesterday. The last thing I need is to be here but Driftwood was like an icebox.’
A brilliant idea occurs to me and I rummage in my bag and with a flourish, produce the gift voucher for Brands Hatch. Well he does have a Lamborghini so he is sure to enjoy this and I’m certainly not giving it to Oliver now.
‘Do you want to go Brands Hatch?’ I ask.
He looks at the ticket and his eyes light up.
‘Are you kidding? Is that one of those experience gifts where you actually get to race cars around the track?’
I feel so happy. I’d been so looking forward to this response from Oliver on Christmas Day and it did occur to me, it seriously did, to give it to him when we met yesterday. I’m so glad I didn’t.
I nod.
‘It was Oliver’s Christmas present and I’ve swapped shifts with Luther, so today is officially my day off. So …’
He grabs the ticket like a child.
‘Let’s do it. It’ll only take an hour to get there. I’ve got a few phone calls to make and a couple of things to settle before I leave, so why don’t I get Jen to show you to the filing room and she can pull out the stuff on Roche for you,’ he says buzzing her.
‘What if Nathan sees me there?’ I say anxiously.
‘He’s got a meeting this afternoon, so that’s unlikely,’ he smiles.
I feel bubbles of excitement in my stomach. A day out with William, how much more exciting could my day off be. He doesn’t fancy you Binki, remember? He thinks you’re nice enough but just not quite his type. I find myself wondering just what I’m lacking that doesn’t make me William Ellis’s type. No worry of him ever pinning me against a desk anyway, although hold on, now I think back didn’t he say the thought of having you sprawled across my desk is very appealing but I don’t sprawl women over my desk.’
Oh my God. I was so focused on the fact that he doesn’t sprawl women across his desk that I totally overlooked what he had said. Oh – My – God.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The file room turned out to be a little treasure trove and the fact that William was more than happy for me to wander around in there reassured me that he had nothing to hide. Even though William had assured me that Nathan would be in a meeting I did find myself on tenterhooks much of the time and was forever glancing behind to check I was alone. When the door opened at one point I almost jumped out of my skin. It was just another member of staff who nodded kindly and left when they found what they needed. They were obviously unaware that I was Binki Grayson the famous boss-eater. I continued searching through the accounts in my furtive style feeling like that woman out of Erin Brockovich. I photocopied all of last year’s accounts and added stuff I’d found on the merger with Roche, and was about to leave when the door opened and William walked in. He’d changed from his shirt and tie into jeans and a cuddly chunky grey jumper and it is all I can do not to enfold myself within it.
‘Right, let’s buckle up and do Brands Hatch,’ he says smiling.
Ooh, and I get to go in the Lamborghini too. Am I glad I left Kandy at home, as loyal as she is, I really don’t want her cramping my style today do I? My phone vibrates and I pull it from my bag. Oh no, it’s Oliver.
‘Oliver, it’s not a good time.’
‘When is a good bloody time then? This morning was a bad time and now is a bad time, when is it not a bad time?’
‘I’ll meet you downstairs,’ says William quietly, diplomatically closing the door.
‘Oliver, please don’t be horrid, I didn’t mean …’
‘Do you want to meet for a late lunch?’ he interrupts. ‘I can get away for a bit. Maybe a walk across Hampstead Heath, give us a chance to talk?’ he says earnestly.
Why now, why does he have to phone now? This is just awful. Guilt consumes me. Oliver my potential husband phones as I am about to take another man out with his Christmas present. Great, now I feel like a prize bitch. Not only am I giving another man my boyfriend’s gift but I’m turning down lunch with my boyfriend to go out with the other man. This is not good. Perhaps I am turning into the woman everyone believes me to be.
‘I can’t get away right now Oliver, I’m …’
‘Don’t you want to spend time with me,’ he says petulantly, making me feel even guiltier. I hug my Optimun papers to my chest and take a deep breath.
‘Yes of course I do. I just can’t spend time with you now,’ I say.
‘Why not?’ he snaps.
Oh dear, I hate lying.
‘I’m going out with William, we’re …’
‘What?’ he bellows. ‘I don’t believe this. I’ve bloody proposed to you and every time I ask to see you it’s not possible because you’re busy seeing someone else. I don’t know why the fuck I bother with you.’
‘Oliver, it’s not like that. I’m helping him with some business. This is good for me. I don’t want to work in a sex shop forever do I?’
Well it’s only a little white lie isn’t it? The worst that can happen is that I’ll get a pimple on my tongue according to my mother. I am helping him with his business and it is true that I don’t want to work in a sex shop all my life. I don’t really want to be working in a sex shop at any time in my life actually, but that’s something else. The only thing I missed out was that I’m not helping him with his business today, so in theory, I haven’t really lied at all have I?
‘Binki, I really want to announce our engagement. What do I have to do to make you say yes?’
Leave Mansill Enterprises so you never see the bitch Amanda Rowland again would be a good start.
‘Oliver, could we talk about this on Saturday over a nice romantic dinner?’
Christ, more food. This bungalow is turning into a house.
‘Do you still love me Binki?’ he asks quietly.
I feel my heart lurch.
‘Yes Oliver, I believe I do.’
And that’s the truth. I do love Oliver Weber. The big question is, am I in love with him?
*
I will never travel any other way but in a Lamborghini. It’s just fabulous. Can those babies move, but even nicer is the cosy space you have next to the driver, and not to mention that everything is at the touch of a button. Of course, once you’re on the motorway the damn thing drives itself. Honestly, you could have full-blown sex between Watford and Luton while driving, and still make it to your destination on time. Maybe I should offer that as an advertising campaign and get myself a job with Lamborghini. On reflection maybe that is not the best angle to go for, it doesn’t look that great with my past reputation does it? False reputation, that is. Even I’m beginning to believe I’m guilty. I enjoy the drive immensely even though William makes frequent calls on his hands-free phone. I
t’s got tinted windows too, perfect if you were on the run, which of course we’re not but you know what I mean. He finally finishes his call, and says,
‘Do you want to choose some music?’
I’m almost terrified to push any buttons in case I catapult myself out of the bloody car. I imagine Lamborghinis are fitted with ejector seats. That is probably how he gets rid of his girlfriends when he has had enough of them. Oh well I’m safe. I’m not his girlfriend, so he won’t eject me. I’m right though aren’t I? Who knows what this Lamborghini baby can do. There are probably James Bond sniper rifles in the glove compartment and spike-producing tyres. In fact the whole thing may well bloody self-destruct if primed. God, I think I’ll stick to Kandy. At least she plays it safe. That’s not strictly true actually. She doesn’t play at all, not since I lost the code for the CD player but at least she’ll never eject me.
‘There,’ he says smiling, pointing to a compartment and accidentally brushing my leg with his arm. Well I presume it was accidental. There are so many compartments and buttons in this car that it resembles a woman’s handbag. I push the button to open the compartment and take out a leather case of CDs, and am stunned to see one by Tony Bennett.
‘You like Tony Bennett?’ I say amazed.
He looks sheepish.
‘I suppose I could pretend they’re my dad’s but I’ll own up. They’re mine. I don’t think you have to be over sixty to like him.’
‘I love Tony Bennett. Oliver would never let me play him. He said I was ageing before my time.’
‘Put it on then. We’ll have a Tony Bennett fest.’
I push the CD into the player and he fiddles with the buttons.
‘This is my all-time favourite,’ he says, turning up the volume. I fight back the urge to straighten his tousled hair and then gasp as Tony Bennett begins to croon It had to be you.
‘It’s my favourite too,’ I say. ‘I used to decorate the Christmas tree playing this. I always turned it off when Oliver came in of course.’
He begins to sing along and before I know it I am joining him. For the next fifteen minutes we sing along happily. Lady and The Tramp comes on and he laughs.
‘Happy to be the tramp?’ he says.
