As these thoughts ran through her mind, that intoxicating scent of his clouded everything. God only knew where he bought this stuff but she was convinced that it was some voodoo doctor in a seedy backstreet in New Orleans rather than an actual shop, because it had the strangest effect on her. Was this part of his power? It seemed that every woman working in Hendry’s was attracted to him and even though Phoebe was not (she definitely was not) there was no doubt that his attention was extremely flattering. She just wished he would be attentive from a distance… Peru ought to do it.
‘See this column here…’ Adam pointed a finger at the screen.
Damn, even his fingers were lean and muscular, his nails manicured to manly perfection. Phoebe blinked away the thought and concentrated on the computer monitor. She blinked again and wished she could concentrate on the finger once more. She had always been crap at spreadsheets and databases at school, unable to see the point and unable to care enough to try. She hoped that whatever followed wouldn’t be too difficult for her to understand or explain. She gave a tiny, silent nod. Adam looked at her.
‘Well?’
What was she supposed to be looking at? He seemed to be labouring under the impression that she knew what he meant.
‘Erm… perhaps you want to wait until Dixon is back? This is his work and I’m not sure that it’s finished yet anyway, so I might be giving you incomplete information…’
‘You’ll be able to tell me this much. Just lean in here…’
Phoebe reluctantly inched forward, his scent wrapping its sexy tendrils around her common sense a little bit tighter.
‘Come on…’ His voice was low and husky. It was sexy, if you thought the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood was sexy. Dangerous would be a better word, the kind of danger that made women weak at the knees. ‘Don’t be shy. Come and look properly…’
Phoebe moved closer, some compulsion that overrode her rational thoughts driving her. She could feel his breath on her cheek. Where was Dixon when she needed him? ‘What am I looking at?’ she asked, her voice struggling above a whisper.
He turned slowly to face her, his lips inches from hers. What would she do if he tried to kiss her again? She chased the image from her head and tried to concentrate on the screen.
The door burst open and Dixon bowled in, whistling some unrecognisable tune. Phoebe leapt away from the desk and even the unflappable Mr Hendry looked vaguely ruffled.
‘Alrighty there?’ Dixon called cheerfully as he went to hang his coat on the rickety old stand.
‘We were…’ Phoebe mumbled as she hurried back to her desk.
‘Dixon…’ Adam’s composure returned as he greeted his employee smoothly. ‘I had hoped that Phoebe could explain a section of this spreadsheet to me but now that you’re here you can assist me instead.’
‘My pleasure,’ Dixon smiled. ‘Just let me grab a spare chair and I’m all yours.’
Phoebe heaved a silent sigh of relief. Another few moments and she might have been Adam’s too.
Bloody hormones. Phoebe sat on the bus watching the town rush past her window. The sun from earlier in the day had given way to an unexpected leaden drizzle that washed the colour from the streets and left people hurrying home coatless and without umbrellas.
Phoebe didn’t know these days whether she was up or down, left or right – bastard hormones had to be the only explanation for her weird behaviour today in the office with Adam. Her face burned every time she thought about how, if Dixon hadn’t arrived when he had, she might have found herself kissing Mr Hendry the Younger. Not the behaviour of a woman who was supposed to be in love with the man whose baby she was carrying.
That wasn’t the only weird thing to happen that day. Sue Bunce, the HR boss, had been whispering to Office Lady when Phoebe walked in to ask if she could borrow their printer while Dixon, elbow deep in cyan toner, tried to fix their own. As she entered the office they immediately broke off, turning to her with awkward, sheepish expressions. Phoebe wasn’t normally the paranoid type, and she wasn’t narcissistic enough to think that people cared about what she did enough for her to be a source of juicy office gossip, but there was no mistaking that they had been talking about her.
Then there was the knowing smirk from Gareth Parker later on the stairs. She had tried to dismiss that too; after all, Gareth was full of knowing smirks, but this one really did seem very knowing indeed.
Phoebe had missed Midnight at the end of the day and so hadn’t been able to see whether her friend could shed any light on the puzzling events. They were probably unconnected and more than likely only in her head, but if it continued then she would have a word. If there was some scandal concerning her, Midnight would know about it.
Her musings were interrupted by the bleep of her phone. She fished it from the sweet wrapper-filled depths of her bag and read the message from Jack.
Did you have a good day? I’ve made far too much chilli if you want to come over and help me out! X
Phoebe locked the screen again and stared out of the window. She felt weird, stressed, and very, very tired. In her current mood, it probably wasn’t a good idea to go over there, but she would have to give him a better reason than feeling weird for not going.
The bus ground to an abrupt halt, throwing her forward in her seat. Phoebe watched as people got off and more people got on to. A woman with a tiny baby and a huge pram struggled up the steps with both in her arms. A middle-aged couple dashed to her aid, taking the pram from her while she paid the fare, and then helping her stow it in the little section for buggies and wheelchairs at the front before she took her seat. She kept saying thank you, over and over again as they helped. She seemed so utterly grateful that Phoebe wondered if, at some point, she was going to offer them her soul.
God, was that what life would be like for Phoebe soon? Would it be dominated by the logistics of buses and the arbitrary kindness of strangers? Would the real Phoebe Clements disappear under a mountain of nappies and sleepless nights, never to be seen again?
The engine roared into life once more, but the rocking and juddering as it chugged along made Phoebe feel queasy. All she wanted to do was go home, lie in her bath for an hour… maybe three… and then go to bed.
Her phone was still clutched in her hand. Unlocking it, she sent Jack a brief text apologising that she felt unwell and that she couldn’t come over. His response, moments later, was so typically Jack that Phoebe almost changed her mind. He was worried, and wanted to bundle Maria in the car and come over to the flat to make sure she was okay. She reassured him that everything was fine and that she was just overtired, and after some to-ing and fro-ing they agreed that she would call round to see him the following night.
Phoebe stashed her phone back in her bag as the bus drag-raced towards a set of red lights. Jack really was the most wonderful boyfriend. So why did her mind keep wandering back to her close encounter with Adam Hendry? She ought to forget all about it and make careful plans to defend herself against his peculiar and deadly form of attack. She needed to make sure it didn’t happen again.
Bloody hormones.
The giant monkey shaped piñata had a frozen grin that was less Curious George and more Chucky from Child’s Play. The delivery driver couldn’t have failed to see the look of distress on Phoebe’s face when she signed for it, but not a word was said and it was too late to do anything about it by the time it arrived anyway. Besides, in an hour from now it would be lying in tatters on the floor of Hendry’s store, battered to death by twenty psychotic, sugar-fuelled nine year olds, and the smile would be well and truly wiped from its demonic face.
As Midnight shoved another handful of sweets up its backside, Phoebe enjoyed a small sense of triumph at her revenge on the offending monstrosity. Sitting next to her, cross-legged on the floor, she turned her attention back to the balloon she was trying, with a great deal of muttered cursing, to tie.
Hendry’s newly opened Party Central zone had been another of Phoebe’s brainwaves. The
idea was to create bespoke birthday parties for kids based on their favourite toys or shows. Dixon had loved it, and Adam had taken very little persuading to give the go-ahead, not even bothering to consult his father. A space had been allocated in the store, advertising had gone up, and bookings were coming in thick and fast. So fast, in fact, that Phoebe was having trouble keeping up with them. Steve had been unhappy, of course (when was he ever happy?) when Phoebe had been forced to poach some of his staff to help with the preparations from time to time, but had been silenced by one word from Adam, and forced to glower in Phoebe’s direction every time she walked past.
There had been teething problems, as with everything. One particular highlight of the first party that had almost called a halt to the whole enterprise was the appointment of Jeff the sometimes-Santa-janitor as chief party entertainer. Midnight had found him passed out in the stockroom with an empty hip flask when he’d failed to show up for his first performance and the arrangement had had to be quickly terminated.
Despite this inauspicious start, the parties were a hit. The secret was in the different packages. Phoebe had a flair for putting together a fantastic event for even the smallest budget and word had quickly spread through the local schools. The area of the store that Party Central occupied was a relatively unloved one and Phoebe had given alteration instructions to the store maintenance crew, which had worked really well to make the best use of the small space.
‘I don’t suppose you could stay on tonight to do this party?’ Phoebe asked Midnight as she finally won the battle with her balloon and batted it over to a pile of others.
‘Why?’
‘I said I’d see Jack tonight and if I stay it will make me really late for him.’
‘But you always like to see that everything is running according to your very exacting plans.’
‘I’m not that bad; I just want everything to be right. Anyway, they pretty much go okay now and I think it would be fine without me for one night.’
‘You’re going to tell him about the…’ Midnight lowered her voice, ‘you know what?’
‘I don’t know…’
Midnight’s normal tone returned. ‘What makes you think I don’t have plans?’
‘Do you?’
‘No. But you assumed that I don’t and it bugged me. Why would I want to spend my evening at a kids’ party, even if I didn’t have plans?’
‘Because you love parties.’
Midnight grinned. ‘True. I want double time, though.’
‘Time and a half is the best I can do.’
‘Throw in first dibs on the party leftovers and you have a deal.’
Phoebe reached over to give her a quick hug. ‘Thanks, gorgeous.’
Midnight gave a subtle flick of her head in the direction of an approaching figure as Phoebe let go. ‘Speaking of gorgeous…’
‘Shit!’ Phoebe muttered. Her hand dived into a box of sweets at Midnight’s feet. She fished one out and pretended to read the wrapper intently. ‘No nuts in these!’ she announced in a staged voice, never taking her eyes from the sweet. Perhaps, if he thought she was far too busy to talk, Adam would leave her alone.
‘Afternoon, Mr H!’ Midnight called cheerfully.
Phoebe’s heart sank. She looked up to see him smiling down at them. It wasn’t the sort of smile to put her at ease, though; it was sardonic, calculating, hungry. Today, she looked as unattractive as it was possible for her to look but still he persisted. Tomorrow, she would turn up for work with a bag over her head, preferably one that smelled of rotting vegetables. Although she’d probably discover he was kinky that way and liked it.
‘How’s it going?’ he asked.
‘Fine. We’re just super busy right now getting everything ready for a party at six.’ Phoebe reached past Midnight to stuff a handful of sweets up the monkey’s bum, to demonstrate how super busy they were.
‘Don’t let me stop you.’ Adam crossed his arms and continued to stare down at her.
‘Okay,’ chirruped Midnight. Phoebe gave a quick glance her way to see that she was clearly holding back a grin. As she looked away, her gaze swept across the shop floor beyond the party area, and she could see other members of staff now watching proceedings with interest too. If Adam really had to play out this little obsession, then why did he insist on doing it as publicly as possible all the time? He might as well call a staff meeting and snog her in full view of everyone. It couldn’t be any more humiliating than this.
Her gaze returned to Adam. He was still looking steadily at her – or rather, as it felt, straight through her clothes to her naked body. She could ask him if there was anything he wanted but after the previous day alone with him in Dixon’s office that seemed a little too much like an invitation. Instead, she returned silently to her task. And then, Midnight did it for her.
‘Is there something you need?’
Phoebe held back a groan as she looked up again.
‘Actually, I’d rather like to see what goes on at one of these parties. I’ll stay in the background, of course, watch things from our end; not actually attend the party.’
‘You want to be like… a member of staff?’ Phoebe asked incredulously. But if he wanted to stay and observe proceedings he would have to be. A man standing in a suit watching a load of nine-year-olds larking around would have the parental paedo alarms ringing in minutes – even Adam had to be able to see that.
‘Why not?’ he replied.
Phoebe blinked at him. And then another plan popped into her head.
Ten minutes later the heir to the Hendry family business stood before Phoebe and Midnight, dressed in the stock uniform of his employees.
‘Suits you,’ Phoebe said.
His red polo shirt (a little snug around the shoulders and short in length and definitely in need of a hot date with a washing machine) looked deeply incongruous teamed with his expensively-tailored trousers and leather-soled shoes. The addition of a red peaked cap bearing the words Team Party Central was enough to make Phoebe laugh out loud. He looked completely ridiculous. It was only a small victory, but she was willing to grab it and enjoy the hell out of it.
Adam didn’t seem quite so enthusiastic about the transformation and was clearly trying to retain his last shred of dignity by not reacting to the silent shoulder shaking of his staff.
‘I know it doesn’t really fit,’ Phoebe added, ‘but it was the best we could find…’ It wasn’t, but he didn’t need to know that. ‘And,’ she continued, ‘it is regulation party team wear.’
‘Of course,’ he replied stiffly.
‘And we couldn’t have you dressed incorrectly for the party.’
‘Quite,’ he replied.
‘Because that would rattle the parents… you know? They wouldn’t be able to identify you as a member of staff and they need to do that… for Hendry’s reputation. You understand, don’t you?’ Phoebe felt a tiny bit bad about how much she was enjoying this situation. But it was just too funny not to milk, and the next part of her master plan would be even better. Plus, there was no way he could be angry with her – after all, she was following company procedure and protecting their reputation. Whatever he thought about his current state of dress he would have to keep to himself. ‘Although, we might need to keep you in the background because the uniform isn’t the best fit and doesn’t look that great and the other party team members are far more experienced at this sort of thing by now…’ He gave a grim nod. ‘So…’ Phoebe concluded, ‘I’ll leave you in Midnight’s capable hands. She’ll tell you what to do once the party guests arrive and explain anything you need to know.’
He stared at her. ‘You’re not staying?’
‘Oh no,’ Phoebe said airily. ‘I’m not on shift tonight. Midnight is very kindly covering this one.’ She gave him her brightest, most innocent smile. ‘You’re in good hands with her. I do hope you have a lovely time and gain a valuable insight into what the parties are all about.’
Midnight threw her a delighted
grin. Phoebe suspected that Adam would meet his match in her tonight; she just hoped that her lovely friend wouldn’t push his buttons too far. But the satisfaction in being able to get one over on Adam was too good to be diluted by any other worries – at least for now. Maybe she’d regret it in the morning, but right now she was going to enjoy her evening with a man who was worth twice what Adam Hendry was to her.
Archie opened the front door to Phoebe, Maria standing beside him. On the way over she had been full of high spirits and eager to tell Jack and Maria all about her day. Her little victory over Adam had filled her with a sense of mischief that had chased away the fatigue and nausea that were now a part of her daily routine, and she felt almost like her old self again. But she had been brought back down to earth again with a heavy bump as she caught the knowing grin on Archie’s face. Something was up.
‘Phoebe!’ Maria squeaked as she threw her arms around Phoebe’s legs.
‘Hey, spud, how’s it going?’
Archie sauntered back up the hallway. ‘You’re in for a night and a half,’ he said carelessly without looking back. ‘Too bad me and Maria are heading out.’
Maria always ate tea with them when Phoebe visited on weeknights and then they played or watched TV with her before she went to bed at around seven-thirty. It was their thing, what they did. And Archie was taking Maria out? On his own? Jack didn’t trust Archie to be a responsible adult at the best of times, as far as she could tell, but now he was allowing him out with his precious daughter? Why the sudden change of heart?
‘Is everything okay?’ Phoebe followed Archie down the hallway. He stopped at the cupboard under the stairs to pull out a jacket for him and one for Maria.
‘Not that one,’ Maria said. ‘I want the pink one because I have my pink pumps on.’
Archie gave an impatient sigh and waved the yellow jacket at her. ‘Does it matter? We’re only going to MacDonald’s.’
The Spring of Second Chances : An absolutely perfect and uplifting romantic comedy Page 21
