Besides, it was pretty much a formality, Christopher had said. A misunderstanding that would be quickly cleared up and then they could all go back to normal.
But now, looking at the surroundings, Felix began to wonder. Maybe the story wasn’t as simple as Christopher had implied?
“Felix!”
He turned to see his boss striding across the carpeted floor from the elevators. Ten years after co-founding the Wellington office in the eighties, Christopher McAllister had moved to Auckland to establish a branch there, and it was he who had hired Felix on his return to New Zealand after five years in the UK. Felix liked Christopher, who was pleasant, matter-of-fact and of a similar build to himself, which was a good few inches over six feet and broad shouldered to boot. Felix hoped his own hair would mirror his boss’s by the time he reached sixty—he’d much rather have Christopher’s silvery white thatch than go bald.
He rose to shake Christopher’s hand. “Morning.”
“Flight okay?” asked his boss.
“Fine. Damn windy here though.”
“Always is,” said Christopher. “Makes your teeth ache in winter. Should be warming up by now. Fucking southerlies. Come on. I’ll take you up to your office.”
Felix picked up his briefcase and walked across the reception area, giving a parting smile to the young woman at the desk. She blushed prettily, and he chuckled to himself.
As usual, his first thought was She’s not as pretty as Lindsey. He sighed. It had been nearly eight years since Lindsey died—why did he always feel the need to compare other women to her? And, more importantly, would he ever meet anyone who exceeded the memory he had of her as the most beautiful girl on earth?
Unbidden, a vision formed in his head of the woman he’d met at the coffee shop before he’d visited the bank to get some cash out. He should have asked where she worked. Her bold statement about sex “and lots of it” had caught his attention, and her elegantly swept-up blonde hair and refined features had held it, along with her bright, intelligent eyes and her straight white teeth as she’d burst into laughter on seeing his Angry Birds app. Yes, she’d been a stunner, but he had to put her to the back of his mind. He’d probably never see her again, and besides, he had more pressing things to think about than getting laid.
“How’s Peter?” Felix asked, following Christopher into the elevator.
Christopher shrugged and pressed the button for the fifth floor. “I suggested he take a two-week holiday until the investigation is over. Didn’t want to suspend the man for such a trivial matter, but wanted him out of the picture, you know?”
Felix nodded, taking note of the word trivial. “But he’s coming in this morning?”
“Yes, ten o’clock. Rob sent him a written notice setting out the allegations and stating he can bring a support person, that sort of thing. I wanted it all done properly.” But his tone implied that he knew what the outcome was going to be. Felix frowned.
The elevator shuddered to a halt and the doors opened, and Felix followed Christopher out into another reception area much the same as the first, full of dark, earthy colours, mahogany and oak furniture and dull watercolours that had probably been there since the founding of Wellington in the eighteen forties.
“This way,” Christopher said, and led him through a maze of corridors. Felix felt a pang of homesickness for the spaciousness of the Auckland building. Thank God he was only there temporarily. He wouldn’t want to work there on a permanent basis.
Christopher finally stopped outside an office and gestured for Felix to precede him. “This’ll be yours for the duration of your stay.”
Felix went in. It wasn’t as bad as he’d feared—large windows overlooked the quay, and the harbour, although a dull grey in the early morning light, reminded him of home.
“Thought it would be a bit more familiar for you.” Christopher smiled.
So, his boss was aware of the old-fashioned appearance of the Wellington branch? Interesting. Why had he never suggested to Peter Dell that they change it?
A long wooden desk stretched in front of the far window with a computer, notepads, pens and pencils and several manila folders presumably holding the details of the case. To one side were four comfortable armchairs and a coffee table. In front of them stood a man who came forward now and held out his hand with a smile.
“This is Rob Drake,” Christopher said. “He’s an associate like yourself. Great guy, switched on, knows the branch inside out, as well as harassment law. He carried out the initial interview of Miss De Langen and put the file together for you. He’ll be your right-hand man if you want anything.”
The two men shook hands. Rob was about his own age, Felix thought—late twenties, a bit shorter than himself, with fluffy brown hair and large brown puppy dog eyes that the women in the office would no doubt be falling over themselves to stare into. But the eyes were intelligent, his handshake firm and confident, and Felix liked him immediately.
“Good to meet you,” Rob said. “We’ve heard a lot about you down here, Mr. Oxford.”
Felix smiled. He’d been given a scholarship to study law at Oxford University in England and had lived there for five years, the final two in London. His brothers still teased him when he unconsciously dropped Cockney phrases into the conversation. “All good things, I hope.”
“Mostly.” Rob grinned, and Felix laughed. He was relieved he had someone to help with the investigation. He’d quiz Rob about it when Christopher had gone.
“Right,” his boss said. “I’ve got a few things to do before we meet Peter at ten and then hopefully I can be off out once it’s all done and dusted. I’ll leave Rob to show you around. Anything you need, just let Rob know, or Miss Stark, our office manager.”
“You might want to put a crash helmet on for her induction meeting,” Rob commented dryly.
“And hold onto your balls,” Christopher said. “The Dragon has a tendency to emasculate most of the men around here.”
“Her balls are bigger than yours,” Rob said with a grin.
Christopher snorted and walked over to the door. “We’re just teasing. Miss Stark’s been here for ten years. Started on her seventeenth birthday. Hardest-working secretary I’ve ever known. Top-class secretarial skills, and she runs this office with a rod of irony.”
“You mean iron?”
“No.” Christopher said. “You’ll understand when you meet her.”
“Jeez,” Rob said, “is she only twenty-seven? I thought she was at least forty. Although she hasn’t got the figure of a forty-year-old.”
“Don’t let her catch you talking like that.” Christopher pointed his pen at him before opening the door. “She’ll have you hung, drawn and quartered before the end of the day.” He winked and left.
“I’ll take you over to her office now, if you like,” Rob said, eyes twinkling. “Might as well get it over with.”
Felix left his briefcase on the desk and followed him out of the office. “Is she really that terrifying?”
“Oh yeah.” Rob rolled his eyes. “Scares me shitless. But Christopher was right—she’s organised and efficient. She probably understands the law better than I do, and she knows this office inside out. She trained under Mrs. Ingram, who just left after a long illness. This is Miss Stark’s official first day on the job, but she’s run the office alone for the last three months, and she’s been Mrs. Ingram’s second in command for years. Very old school, you know? Traditional and bossy.”
He turned at the end of the corridor and opened the door to the first semi-open-plan room Felix had seen, consisting of partitioned areas housing the legal secretaries—all women, he noticed—and others who he thought were probably the legal executives helping the solicitors with the day-to-day running of the firm.
Rob gestured to an office on the far side and they crossed the workroom together. “Anything you want, she’s your first port of call. So you need to get on her good side, right?”
“And how do I do that?”
“Right.” Felix tried not to laugh. “Duly noted.” He wasn’t surprised, though. Most offices had a little Hitler who kept things running smoothly. They always looked the same: skinny and flat-chested with a face that looked like they’d been sucking lemons, a screechy voice and absolutely no sense of humour. Although Christopher’s description—and the lawyer’s subsequent reference to her figure—had suggested maybe Miss Stark was different. And she was only twenty-seven, not late forties or fifties as most office managers were. Interesting.
Rob paused outside the closed door that had Miss V. Stark—Office Manager on it. From inside came the distinct sound of someone being told off.
Rob pulled an eek face.
“Perhaps we should wait,” Felix suggested.
“Absolutely.”
Felix looked at the sign. “What does the V stand for?”
“Veronica,” said Rob. “But don’t call her that. She’s very formal.”
Felix raised an eyebrow, now thoroughly intrigued by the mysterious Miss Stark. He could hear her inside, chewing out what must be a younger secretary, judging by her tone.
“It’s not good enough,” she was saying. Her voice wasn’t screechy at all, Felix noted. It was quite low, almost husky, and sent little fingers sliding down his spine. “These are silly mistakes, which mean you’re not paying attention to your work. I know you’re capable of better.”
“Sorry, Miss Stark,” came the miserable voice of a young woman.
“Sorry’s not good enough. The original letter’s already gone to Mr. Hoyle for signing. Even if you’d made mistakes in your original shorthand, you should have had enough sense to transcribe them properly—it’s basic common sense.”
“Yes, Miss Stark.”
“I mean, honestly, Sam. Or do you really not know the difference between a P-A-W-N shop and a P-O-R-N shop?”
Felix’s eyes met Rob’s, and they both stifled a laugh.
“Yes…I do, Miss Stark,” stuttered the sorrowful Sam.
“Are you sure? Only you could’ve given our poor client a terrible reputation.”
“I’m really sorry, Miss Stark. It won’t happen again.”
“Good.”
Felix frowned. Hold on a minute. That voice rang a bell. It sounded like the girl from the coffee shop. He could distinctly remember the first words he’d heard her utter in that same husky voice. But that didn’t make sense. Rob had described her like a straight-laced, uptight frump, and the coffee-shop beauty had not looked—and most certainly hadn’t sounded—straight-laced.
“Are you practicing your shorthand every evening as I asked you to?” she continued. “Fifteen minutes while watching TV?”
“Um, yes, Miss Stark. Most nights.”
“Every night, Sam. Without fail. I expect you to be a hundred words a minute by the end of the year. I’ll be testing you myself.”
“Yes, Miss Stark.”
“Good. Off you go, then.”
The door opened, and Felix and Rob stepped aside as the young secretary scurried out looking suitably ashamed. They peered around the door into the large office.
Chapter Three
Felix got his first sight of the inimitable Miss Stark, and immediately realised he’d guessed right—she was the gorgeous chick from Bella’s.
Back then she’d been wearing a long raincoat and he hadn’t been able to get a good look at her figure, but the coat now hung on the back of the door, and he was able to peruse her at his leisure.
Tall in elegant black heels several inches high, she was slender but curvy, dressed in an extremely chic dark grey business suit, the skirt a respectable one inch above her knees, the white shirt with only two buttons open at the neck and no sign of any cleavage on show. Her blonde hair was still coiled in a tight bun, and her make-up was simple and understated, apart from her lips, which were now a dark red. She also now wore glasses with a modern rectangular frame, and her whole appearance spoke of professionalism and efficiency.
He could see why others might think her cold and reserved. But the red lipstick was a dead giveaway and corroborated her statement in the shop. This woman, he thought, desperately wants to be kissed. She was gorgeous, and from that moment, watching her standing by her desk with hands on hips and those luscious red lips pursed, Felix wanted her.
It was a pity that the absolute last thing he could indulge in considering his reason for being at the branch was an office affair.
Rob knocked on the door, timidly enough to make Felix bite his lip so he didn’t laugh.
She looked up at them over the top of her glasses. “Yes?” Her voice was crisp and said Are you sure you want to bother me? I’m really not in a good mood.
Her eyes met Felix’s. They widened, and he was sure he heard her inhale sharply.
Rob said, “Sorry to interrupt you, Miss Stark, I know you’re very busy, but I thought I’d bring Felix Wilkinson along to meet you. I’ll leave you to it if that’s okay. I’ve got lots to do.” He winked at Felix and made a quick exit.
Felix watched him go before turning to see her studying him. She’d smothered her initial shock and replaced it with cool control.
“So you’re the infamous Mr. Wilkinson.” She beckoned him into the office and held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“And you’re the infamous Miss Stark,” he said. They shook hands. She had a firm grip, and up close he could see her eyes were a startling green behind her glasses. “Very nice to meet you—again,” he said, giving her a warm smile.
“Hmm.” She didn’t return the compliment, or the smile. “Please sit.”
Felix lowered himself to the other seat in front of the desk, noting with amusement that she didn’t join him but perched on the edge of her desk, looking down at him. A position to intimidate. Clearly she was going to pretend their previous meeting—and her unfortunate admission to her friend—hadn’t happened. Leaning back in his seat, he rested an ankle on the opposite knee and linked his fingers, adopting the most un-confrontational pose he could.
“I’m the office manager,” she said, “and—”
“Yes,” Felix interrupted, “I hear congratulations are in order.”
She blinked. “Thank you.” The icy stare said Don’t interrupt me again. “Anyway, as I was saying, I’m in charge of those who aren’t lawyers here—the word processor operators and the legal secretaries, the librarians and service clerks and all the other litigation support staff. If you need something done, you come to me first, understand? I know everyone’s workload and everyone’s skills, and I can assign you the best person for the job.”
Felix nodded. “Understood.”
“In a minute I’ll show you where you put your general files for the typing pool, but I’ll probably be assigning you your own secretaries as you’re working on a special case.”
Had he imagined it, or had there been an underlying hint of sarcasm on the word special? “Okay.”
“Do you prefer a secretary with shorthand skills or do you use a digital recorder?”
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d given dictation to a shorthand secretary. He really had travelled back forty years. Next thing she’d be asking him if he wanted a cigar. “I’m used to digital.”
She nodded sharply. “Okay. I’ll give you the abridged version of the general tour in a minute as you’re only going to be here temporarily.”
Okay, so now he definitely wasn’t imagining it. She was annoyed with him, and he’d only just walked through the door. Was that because of their previous meeting? Because he’d seen behind the icy facade she wore in the office? “Sure,” he said easily.
She crossed her arms. “Lastly, while you’re here you should know that I expect a certain level of behaviour from lawyers in the Wellington branch.”
His eyebrows rose. “Oh?”
“Yes. There are a lot of young women here, both in the
typing pool and throughout the rest of the office. I’m not stupid—I know relationships occur in the workplace, but I expect them to be discreet, and I expect you to use your common sense. I do not expect to come into work to find half a dozen twenty-somethings crying over their keyboards because you haven’t returned their phone calls.”
His eyebrows stayed somewhere around his hairline. “I see. I feel I should point out that it would be a bit crass to have an office affair considering I’m here to investigate allegations of sexual harassment.”
She fixed him with her steely stare. “You may be a hotshot at the Auckland branch, Mr. Wilkinson, but while you’re here in my office, I’m top dog. Got it?”
Felix met her green-eyed gaze and nodded. “You like to be on top. Check.”
The words were out before he could stop himself, and he nearly groaned out loud. Great, Felix. Sexual innuendo. Didn’t you just mention you’re here to investigate sexual harassment?
There was a stony silence for a good ten seconds.
She stared at Felix with a look that could have frozen lava, and then, very slowly, ran her gaze down to his feet and slowly back up, taking in every inch of his appearance. Felix bore the appraisal, knowing he’d deserved it, but couldn’t resist doing the same to her. He admired her sexy high heels, slim calves and narrow waist, checked the hands that rested on her arms for a wedding ring, but didn’t find one—and his gaze lingered on her generous, pert breasts before meeting her eyes again.
For the first time, a hint of smile curved her lips. “Are you going to be trouble?” she asked softly, tipping her head slightly at him.
Seeing the smile, he opted for humour. “I sincerely hope so.”
To her credit, she gave a short, sharp laugh, pushed herself off her desk and walked to the other side to shuffle some papers. “I’ll show you around the office. Do you have any questions so far, Mr. Wilkinson?”
Five Exotic Fantasies: Love in Reverse, Book 3 Page 2
