At the Boss's Command

by Darcy Maguire

  She took the bangle. The stone was cool, despite the warmth of the shop. It was, as Mr Wu had said, the best piece in the collection; the stone was a deep and vivid green. It had been carved with a dragon, whose sinuous and muscular body writhed all around the band, his fire-breathing jaws meeting his fiery tail.

  ‘It’s marvellous,’ she sighed, turning it in her fingers so that the dragon seemed to twist as though alive, his scales shimmering. The thing was so beautiful that she was almost reluctant to hand it back to Mr Wu.

  ‘Try it on,’ Anton suggested. She slipped her hand into the cool green hoop. Against her pale skin, it looked wonderful. When she began, reluctantly, to take it off again, he shook his head. ‘Keep it on.’

  ‘I might get attached to something like this,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘I hope so,’ he replied.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Mr Wu rose. ‘I will prepare more tea,’ the Chinese man said courteously, and disappeared into the back of the shop, leaving them alone.

  Anton looked her in the eyes. ‘This is yours,’ he said.

  Amy’s heart sank swiftly. ‘Oh, no! This is a very valuable piece!’

  ‘It is yours.’

  Her face reddening, Amy shook her head. If this was his idea of a joke, it was a highly embarrassing one. She pulled the jade bangle off her wrist. ‘Anton, I can’t accept this.’

  ‘It’s a gift,’ he said. ‘A way of welcoming you to the Zell Corporation and wishing you luck in your new job.’

  ‘Those are very nice sentiments,’ she said awkwardly. ‘Nevertheless, I can’t take this. Please give it back to Mr Wu.’

  Anton’s eyes were cool. ‘I can’t. I’ve already paid for it. And it does seem to have your name on it.’

  She looked at the bangle closely. Its section was in a Dshape. On the smooth inner surface of the jade, Chinese characters had been exquisitely incised.

  There were also some words in Roman characters: the date, and the inscription, To Amy from Anton.

  She was dumbstruck for a moment. ‘You’ve had it engraved!’

  ‘I knew you were going to like it,’ he said, as though there had never been any other option. ‘I knew it would suit you perfectly, and it does. I want you to wear it to the office.’

  Amy’s whole body felt hot and flushed. She had a sensation of panic, of being suffocated in this small, ornate shop with its drawers full of treasures. ‘You don’t understand,’ she said urgently. ‘I cannot accept this gift, beautiful as it is. Please ask the jeweller if he can polish this inscription out.’

  ‘That’s impossible. It’s been cut too deep.’ He was clearly getting impatient. ‘What is the matter, Amy? I don’t understand you.’

  ‘Then try,’ she begged him urgently. ‘New employees don’t accept lavish gifts from their employers. I’m not a fool. I know what this bangle must be worth.’

  ‘Amy,’ he said shortly, ‘I can afford to buy you a piece of jade.’

  ‘The point is not what it means to you,’ she said, her eyes flashing angrily at his intransigence, ‘but what it means to me! It would put me under intolerable pressure.’

  ‘Why are you spoiling my day?’ he asked, frowning at her.

  ‘You’re spoiling my day, Anton. Everything was lovely up until now—the drive, the market, helping me choose that little monkey—but this is just awful!’

  ‘You think the bangle is awful?’

  ‘Of course not. It would be a fabulous gift from a man to his wife, but not between employer and employee!’

  He shrugged, growing colder as she grew hotter. ‘I think of you as a kind of wife, Worthington,’ he said with ironic mockery.

  ‘Then stop thinking of me like that,’ she retorted.

  ‘I don’t understand what the hell is eating you,’ he said, his eyes growing cold. ‘It’s just a gift.’

  ‘Putting thousands of dollars on my arm is not “just a gift”. I joined your company to work, not to become a concubine.’

  ‘Have I asked you to be that?’ he demanded.

  ‘Not yet. And the day you do is the day I walk out, Anton. You made it very clear what you wanted in Borneo—and you’ve been dropping subtle hints all morning, about how lonely and neglected you are. Do you think I don’t know what you’re talking about?’

  ‘What am I talking about?’ he asked.

  ‘You’ve said it again today: “a kind of wife”. But what you want is the wife without the marriage.’

  He stared at her flushed face in silence for a moment. ‘You’ve misunderstood,’ he said brusquely. ‘What I want is the marriage without the wife.’

  ‘It’s the same thing,’ she retorted. ‘You’re very adept at solving problems, and this is your solution to one particular problem.’

  ‘If I wanted sex,’ he said grimly, ‘I would get it at those Wanchai strip clubs where you say I slurp noodles and whisky till dawn.’

  ‘I know you go there, because you’ve thrown the tabs at me to pay the next morning. Whatever you’re slurping there does not come cheap!’

  Anger made his eyes darken. He took the jade bangle from her and dropped it into his pocket. This time, the hand in the small of her back was almost rough. ‘All right, that’s enough. Let’s go.’

  Chapter Five

  SHE felt achingly sick as they drove back to Causeway Bay in silence. She knew she had said things back there in Mr Wu’s shop that she should not have allowed to pass her lips. She would be lucky to keep her job.

  If he only knew the raw nerve he had touched—that he kept on touching, with almost every thing he did or said. There were moments when a kind of madness took her over and filled her with unbearable anguish.

  True to form, the moist banks of white clouds had closed in swiftly and by the time they reached her apartment block, the rain was pouring down, making pedestrians dash to and fro, buried under umbrellas or plastic wraps. Of course, all Anton had to do was touch a button on the dashboard and the hood of the sports car closed over them with an electric whirr. Men like Anton did not get wet when it rained.

  He pulled up outside her place. The rain drummed on the canvas hood over their heads. He turned to her with sombre eyes.

  ‘Maybe you can give me an explanation before you go?’

  Her throat was tight. ‘Anton, I’m sorry I spoke out of turn today. I had no right to say some of those things. But I felt I had to say them. I don’t want you to get the wrong impression about me.’

  ‘And what impression would that be?’

  She stared out at the rainy forest of masts, unable to meet his eyes. ‘Personal assistants find out all sorts of things. It’s the nature of the job. You know—like a wife without the marriage.’

  ‘What things?’

  ‘My predecessor. The beautiful Marcie. You told me she had a heart murmur and had to leave suddenly.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Marcie had a medical check-up three days before she left so suddenly. Whatever the report said, there was nothing wrong with her heart.’

  ‘You’ve looked in her file?’ he asked in a dangerous voice.

  ‘No, of course not. Somebody told me.’

  ‘Who told you?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Lots of people are speculating about Marcie and her heart murmur. But she’s not in Hong Kong any more. She was whisked away to a clinic in Switzerland.’ She faced him, her mouth twisted in a painful smile. ‘There was some kind of medical emergency. Something that had to be dealt with urgently. But it wasn’t a heart murmur.’

  ‘Why should this concern you?’ he growled.

  ‘Why?’ She extended one finger. ‘Firstly, because she was my predecessor. Secondly, because you lied to me about why she left. Thirdly, because she didn’t leave on health grounds—her contract was terminated because you fired her.’ She held up three fingers for a moment, then let her hand drop back into her lap. ‘That’s why it concerns me.’

  ‘I see,’ he said heavily.

  ‘Wher
ever Marcie is now,’ she said in a pain-filled voice, ‘I don’t want to end up in the same place.’

  ‘I hope you won’t,’ he replied.

  ‘I’m alone in this life, Anton. I have to take care of myself because there’s nobody else who’s going to do it.’

  ‘I understand,’ he replied, nodding. ‘More than you can know.’

  ‘If you want to fire me, I’ll know why.’

  ‘It sounds to me more like you’re leaving.’

  ‘I adore my job,’ she said, her eyes filling with tears. ‘I don’t want to leave.’

  ‘Then you may as well stay.’ He leaned across her and opened her door, letting in a warm rush of rainy air. ‘Since you’re such a big girl, you don’t need me to show you up to your apartment.’

  She ran across the street, the rain beating into her face. She felt sick inside.

  As she dried herself in her apartment, she found something hard in her pocket. It was the little jade monkey, clutching her prize but looking anxiously over her shoulder.

  There was a hollow place in her heart. He hadn’t even attempted to explain what had happened to Marcie. In a way, she was glad. She didn’t want to hear any more lies.

  And in any case, she knew exactly what had happened to Marcie. The talkative nurse in the sickbay had been delighted at the chance to gossip.

  She adored Mr Zell. Absolutely mad about him. Worshipped the ground he trod on, if you know what I mean. She was a lovely, lovely girl, but then she started to look off-colour. Was even sick a couple of times in the office. Mr Zell ordered her to take a check-up. She wasn’t pleased about that, I can tell you. But she couldn’t refuse, could she? Next thing she’s got the sack, and spirited off to some mysterious clinic in Zurich. I mean, anyone can put two and two together, can’t they?

  Oh, yes, it was easy to put two and two together. She knew exactly what kind of medical emergencies required instant dismissal and a mysterious visit to an expensive clinic. A clinic which specialised in little accidents. She knew all about that.

  She was not going to suffer that pain again. Not even though she knew that she was never going to meet anyone like Anton Zell in her life again. She had once thought she was in love with Martin McCallum, but Anton was teaching her differently.

  Because she, like Marcie, was also learning to adore Mr Zell. To be absolutely mad about him. To worship the ground he trod on.

  She put the little jade monkey on her bedside table and curled up on the bed, not caring that her wet hair was dampening the pillow. Thunder rumbled across the bay from China.

  Amy stared at the delicate green figure. How long was she going to be able to keep clutching her prize and looking over her shoulder?

  Six weeks later, they flew back to Europe. The Zell Corporation was a partner in a big refinery project in Marseilles; one of the other companies, Barbusse Resources, had offered to buy out Anton’s holdings. It would be a radical move, but it seemed to have found favour with Anton. They were going to hammer out the details of the deal.

  They were also going to take advantage of being in the south of France in June to take a break on the Côte d’Azur and visit some of Anton’s friends there, including Lady Carron, who had a villa at Cap d’Antibes. Amy was looking forward to seeing whether her surmise about the foot-long cigarette-holder was right.

  Anton’s private jet had seating for twelve passengers, but on this flight there were only the two of them in the luxurious cabin—Anton’s financial team were already in Marseilles, at the negotiating table.

  They had been in the air for three hours, having taken off in the warm dusk. It was now dark outside the cabin and they were both hungry. Amy went up to the galley and took the prepared meals—supplied by an aviation catering firm in Hong Kong—from the fridge to the microwave. As the first tray heated, she closed the curtains all down the Lear jet’s body.

  Anton was engrossed in papers relating to the shares deal that was coming up. She was amused as always to see that he was wearing glasses to read with. And as always when he was concentrating, he was so focused that he seemed barely aware of her presence as she walked past him. He did not even flinch when she opened the bottle of iced champagne with a loud pop. She had to fight down a mischievous urge to flip his glasses off his nose, just to get him to notice her.

  For some reason, there was a large and beautiful parrot on board, sitting sleepily in a cage at the back of the cabin. It had something to do with the deal, Amy was not sure exactly what.

  The microwave pinged. She took a meal up to the cockpit and gave it to the pilot, who was—disconcertingly—reading a book on trout fishing. Then she put her and Anton’s meal in the microwave and took the champagne and two glasses to where Anton was sitting.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt you,’ she said, holding out the glass.

  He tossed the papers aside. ‘I’ve finished anyway,’ he replied. ‘What’s for dinner?’

  ‘I’m not sure, except that it looks a lot nicer than the usual airline food,’ she said.

  ‘And you look a lot nicer than the usual airline hostess,’ he smiled.

  She was delighted by the compliment. Since the disastrous visit to the jade market in Hong Kong, relations between them had been strained and restricted to work issues. Though she kept telling herself that was exactly what she most wanted, Amy ached for the intimacy that had once existed between them; an intimacy that seemed to have gone for ever.

  She ached for his smiles, the way he used to tease her, the way he used to touch her. But it was as though that had never been. And inside, she felt a terror that mounted every day—a terror that he would grow sick of having her around and would dismiss her and find someone more congenial.

  The thought of that was unbearable.

  ‘Well, thank you, sir; that has earned you a bottle of our complimentary champagne while you wait for the chef to add the final sauces.’

  ‘Pour away, stewardess. I want to see beaded bubbles winking at the brim.’

  ‘Coming right up, sir.’

  Anton clinked his champagne glass against hers. ‘God bless.’

  ‘Bless you too,’ she said, drinking.

  ‘What are you smiling at?’ he demanded.

  ‘I always smile when I see you wearing glasses,’ she said.

  He took them off. ‘I have grey hairs, too. You find the signs of age amusing?’

  ‘You’re not old,’ she said soothingly, ‘you’re just in your prime.’

  ‘So kind of you.’

  ‘Think nothing of it.’ She indicated his paperwork. ‘Have you worked out your thoughts yet?’

  ‘I worked them out long ago,’ he said. ‘I built the refinery about five years ago for a man named Henri Barbusse, of Barbusse Resources Incorporated. As part of the deal, I own forty per cent of the joint venture company, which is called Zell France. Henri is now a very rich man. He wants to buy out that forty per cent interest, which will make him sole owner of the facility.’

  ‘Doesn’t that mean you’ll lose revenue?’ she asked.

  ‘Henri will offer a very good price,’ Anton replied with a smile. ‘The plant has a capacity of fifty thousand tons a year—and that’s a lot of money. But I can use the cash elsewhere.’

  ‘Such as where?’

  ‘Well, the Marseilles facility is a finished mission. Right now, I’m excited by projects in some developing countries in south-east Asia—countries like Vietnam and Laos. I can use the money there, and they can use the technology. It’s perfect for their economies.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘Because it makes much more sense for them to recycle than to import. And in countries where the environment is especially fragile, reprocessing is a vital step.’ He drank his champagne. ‘These economies have been held back by politics and wars for decades. But I see them as the Asian tigers of the future. And I want a stake in their growth.’

  ‘So you’re not altogether St Anton,’ she said drily.

  ‘Not altogether,’ he replie
d with a grin. ‘But I do love those places, especially Vietnam. We’ll be taking a trip there in a couple of months. You’ll see just how beautiful it is.’

  ‘Please tell me—what’s the parrot for?’

  ‘It’s a macaw,’ Anton replied. ‘Henri Barbusse is mad about exotic birds. He has an aviary full of them. This is a gift for him. Getting the paperwork sorted out was a nightmare, I can tell you.’

  Amy went to get the food. They settled down side by side in the ample seats to eat off the fold-down table. The trays actually contained a variety of beautifully prepared Chinese dishes in pretty little bowls. They both used chopsticks— living in Hong Kong, you soon got used to dispensing with knives and forks.

  ‘This is a very superior airline. I’ve never had a whole plane to myself—not to mention the owner as my fellow passenger.’

  ‘To me, space is the ultimate luxury,’ he said. ‘The main thing I remember from my childhood is never having any space of my own.’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ she said, sipping the icy champagne, which was delectable. ‘When you’re supernumerary, nothing is yours. You have to share everything. There’s no place to call your own.’

  ‘Except the space in your head,’ he replied.

  ‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘Except that. And they even try to take that away from you.’

  Anton glanced at her. ‘At the interview you told me that Jeffrey wasn’t very happy to have an extra child to raise. Was he really that mean to you?’

  Amy paused before answering. ‘No, Jeffrey is a very good person. But he made sure I knew how lucky I was to be in his house. And my cousins took their cue from that. They made my life hell, especially when their father wasn’t looking. And I could never complain to him—because I had to be so grateful.’

  ‘And this is why you’re such a hard case now?’

  ‘Am I a hard case?’ she said innocently.

  ‘Tough as nails.’ He selected a delicious sweet-and-sour prawn from his bowl and popped it into her mouth with deft chopsticks. While she chewed it appreciatively, he studied her. In the soft lighting of the cabin, his eyes were impenetrable. ‘Tell me how they made your life hell.’