The Grey Woman: You never know who's watching

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The Grey Woman: You never know who's watching Page 7

by M J Hardy


  However, I need to get through Harriet Masters first and I smile as Alice Vander Woods heads towards me, smiling politely. “Emma, hi, I’m Alice, Harriet’s assistant. Follow me.”

  I smile and, fighting the nerves, follow her to the elevators.

  As we take the lift to the executive floor, she looks at me with interest. “You know, we were surprised by your application. Neither one of us remembers processing it but there it was hidden away in the file. I wonder who put it there?”

  Willing myself not to blush, I smile and look puzzled. “Maybe a temp?”

  She shakes her head. “No, it’s just Harriet and myself. I suppose it could have been Claire. I mean, Mr Landon was very insistent you get the interview.”

  She smiles brightly as we reach the top floor. “Oh well, it doesn’t matter how you got here, all that matters is you did. Now, don’t worry, we don’t bite but I can’t say the same for Mr Landon.”

  She giggles and I decide I really like Alice. Thinking of her being used by the slippery Miles Sinclair makes my skin crawl. She deserves so much better than him and could probably have anyone she wanted. She’s kind, pretty and intelligent. What on earth is she doing wasting her time on a creep like him?

  I follow her to a meeting room where Harriet is waiting and she stands and shakes my hand, saying pleasantly, “Please take a seat, Emma.”

  Nervously, I sit facing them and Harriet looks down at my application with interest.

  “So, tell me, Emma, why do you want this position?”

  Taking a deep breath, I steel myself for the questions ahead and sit a little straighter, saying firmly, “Because I want to work for the best. I strive for perfection and want to offer my experience to a company I respect and admire. I want a career that allows me to put everything into and gain the satisfaction when I see what I do makes a difference. Crossline impresses me, as does all its employees. This is a place I could expand my horizons and hopefully make a difference to the lives of my employers. You see, I am at a crossroads in my life, Mrs Masters. I don’t have children, or anyone to claim my time. I am married but between you and me, it doesn’t look as if I will be for much longer.”

  They appear concerned and I smile. “It’s fine, it’s amicable and by mutual agreement, however, I want more. I want to see how far I can go without the chains of normal life holding me back. I am prepared to live, breathe and sleep this position and you would be hard pressed to find someone as committed as I am.”

  I stop to draw breath and they share a look. I can’t read them and hope they don’t see this as someone saying whatever they want to hear just to get a job because I meant every word. Even the part about my marriage because from the moment I stepped foot inside this building, I knew in my heart if there was a choice to be made between this or my marriage – this would win.

  Harriet looks at my CV and says lightly, “It says here you worked for Gascon Industries as a pa to the chief executive, tell me about that role.”

  My heart is beating frantically because that is so far from the truth, if there was a lie detector anywhere near me it would be going mad right now. I put that in because the company went bust six months ago and there won’t be any references required. I used to clean there in the evenings and know the people who work there and the general layout of the place, so can answer any questions with a certain familiarity. I then proceed to tell them exactly what I think they want to hear, and by the end of it, I’ve even convinced myself that I did the job.

  I can see Alice writing notes and I wonder what they are thinking. Harriet continues to look at the CV and says with interest, “What did you do after Gascon?”

  “I worked in a coffee shop because a friend of mine was desperate and as I was in between jobs, I helped out. When this opportunity came up, I saw it as a gift from God because I suppose I thought it had my name on it. I suppose you could say I was in the right place at the right time.”

  Harriet smiles, but her expression is unreadable.

  For the next twenty minutes she explains the job in detail and asks me hypothetical questions to see how I’d react in certain circumstances. I believe I hold my own and breathe a sigh of relief when she wraps up the interview by saying, “Thank you for coming, Emma. If you have any questions at all regarding your application, feel free to contact Alice. Obviously, there are other applicants in the running and a final decision won’t be made until early next week. If you are successful, we will notify you by phone followed up by a formal email. Do you have any further questions?”

  “Not at the moment but if I think of any is it ok to email them?”

  Harriet nods. “Of course. Now, as I mentioned before, you will leave us and meet Mr Landon for a second interview immediately. He has the final decision and it’s important he gets to meet the applicants personally as he will be your direct boss. If you would like to take a seat outside, Claire will come and find you when he is free.”

  She stands and I take my cue and shake her outstretched hand. “Thank you so much for the opportunity, it was a pleasure to meet you.”

  She smiles and I turn to Alice and say the same, before following her to the door.

  As I make to leave, Harriet says sweetly, “Good luck, Emma.”

  It’s only when I take my seat that I wonder if she meant to wish me good luck in the job application, or for my interview with Julian Landon. Somehow, I think it was the latter.

  13

  He keeps me waiting for one hour and I sit silently fuming as I watch the workers going about their business all around me. Nobody looks at me, nobody comes to check on me, and nobody offers me so much as a glass of water.

  When I first sat here, it wasn’t long before Sarah left his office looking flushed and a little upset, if I’m honest. She looked at me and I saw the pity in her eyes as she hurried past. I’m guessing he wasn’t so nice.

  However, that was ages ago and nobody has been in since. Claire carries on working and doesn’t even look at me and I can’t blame her for that, after all, the last time we met I almost got her fired. That seems to be becoming a habit.

  Then, just before 5 o'clock, Claire looks up and says in a dull voice, “You can go in now.”

  Immediately, she looks away and I feel bad. Great, she hates me. Not that I can blame her, but it’s still not a nice feeling. I’ve always liked Claire and was impressed by the way she conducted herself in the coffee shop. She was always pleasant and set the bar high. I suppose I should be used to people not seeing me, but I thought it would change when I was one of them. Obviously not.

  As I walk past her desk, something makes me hesitate and I stop and say awkwardly, “Um… I just want to say I’m sorry. You know... what happened the other day. It was wrong of me and I really didn’t mean to get you in any trouble.”

  She doesn’t even look up and snaps, “Don’t keep him waiting.”

  Sighing inwardly, I turn and head towards his office, feeling like something that blew in from the gutter. Not the best start to probably the most important interview of my life.

  Knocking loudly, I hear, “Come in.”

  As before, when I enter his office, Julian Landon is looking at his computer with a frown. Today he is wearing a white shirt and black suit and looks so incredibly attractive it makes my head spin.

  For a moment, I stand awkwardly and then he says curtly, “Sit.”

  Like Claire, he doesn’t even look up and I feel as worthless as I did a minute ago. Why are these people so rude?

  For what seems like an eternity, he carries on with what he’s doing and I wait, silently fuming on the inside. Do I really want to be like them?

  Then he looks up and the sight of those deep, dark eyes, staring straight at me, makes me hold my breath for a second longer than I should.

  “You’re lucky I was in a good mood that day.”

  I say nothing and stare at him with a blank expression. He waits for an answer, but he can wait all year as far as I’m concerned because I have not
hing to say in reply.

  After a while, he nods and says irritably. “I still don’t understand why you think you’re a good match for me. On paper, you’re a disgrace. I’ve read your file and the whole application should be tossed in the bin.”

  Still, I say nothing and stare at him with a frozen expression and his eyes flash as he says irritably, “Not so talkative now, are you? Well, tell me, Mrs Carter…” He leans forward and stares at me long and hard, “Why should I give you the job when someone much more qualified has sat in that seat before you?”

  I try not to let his words affect me and shrug. “Because she wouldn’t last five minutes.”

  “Excuse me.”

  “When she left this office, Mr Landon, which, may I add, was exactly 55 minutes ago, she looked upset. I’m guessing you weren’t that kind to her and probably pushed her a little too far. If you employed her, she would hate every minute of it because I have seen first-hand how you treat your assistants. When I was last here, you tore Claire apart, which by the way was totally unprofessional of you. I’m guessing you need an assistant who will tell you straight when you’re acting like a complete and utter asshole.”

  Just for a moment, he stares at me with a stunned expression and I say nothing but fix him with a look my disapproving mother would be proud of. He leans back and shakes his head and says softly, “Asshole?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  For a moment, I can’t read his expression and think this could go one of two ways. Then he throws back his head and laughs loudly. “You know, Mrs Carter, God only knows why but I like you.”

  I breathe out.

  “You see, I am surrounded by ass lickers all day long who tell me what I want to hear. They let me be the person I am because they are afraid to challenge me. You, on the other hand, you’re not afraid of me and I like that. Yes, you want something from me but are not prepared to put up with shit just to get me on side. I like that in a person.”

  He looks down and says in a softer tone, “Emma.”

  Hearing my name on his lips feels nice and the way he is looking at me feels nice. It’s a mixture of interest and incredulity, with a little surprise thrown in. All I can say in reply is, “Thank you, although I must just say for the record, I’m not sure if I like you Mr Landon. I’m afraid the jury’s out on that one.”

  He laughs again, and now I have his full attention. “So, my little spy, what have you got for me?”

  “Nothing.”

  He looks disappointed. “What do you mean, nothing? I thought I told you to do your homework?”

  Taking a deep breath, I face him with a frozen expression. “I didn’t say I hadn’t done my homework but you see, the last time I gave you information you weren’t interested. You made me feel stupid and as if I was telling tales to the teacher. Well, I value my information, Mr Landon, even if you don’t and I will only tell you what I discovered if you ask me nicely.”

  I know I’ve gone too far when he brings his fist down on his desk and bellows, “Too far, Mrs Carter. Too far and too clever. I don’t appreciate games and I asked you a question. You give me the information that shows me you’re just what I need, or this interview is terminated. Understand one thing, Mrs Carter, I am the boss around here and I could tell you to stand on your head and sing, God Save the Queen, if I wanted to and you would do it. Do I make myself clear?”

  Standing up, I throw him a withering look. “Then I bid you good day.”

  “What?”

  He looks surprised and I shrug. “As I said, an asshole.”

  I turn away and say as an aside. “Oh, and just for the record, the information I have is something you really want to know. It’s a shame you couldn’t be a better man to hear it.”

  As I turn and walk away, I am shocked when he says softly, “I’m sorry, Emma.”

  I freeze on the spot and he says in a voice that is so soft, it’s like the coolest whisper, “I apologise for my rudeness, please sit down and we will start again.”

  As I turn around, he stands and moves around the desk and walks towards me. Reaching out, he takes my hand and leads me to the chair which he holds out for me like a true gentleman. Then he kneels down before me and stares into my eyes, and I know I’m lost forever. My heart flutters out of control and my insides turn to liquid desire. This man is good, I’ll give him that.

  As he looks into my eyes, his own sparkle with promise and he says smoothly, “I like you, Emma. You intrigue me in a good way, and I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you. Please excuse my earlier behaviour and accept my apology.”

  I nod as if in a trance and he smiles sweetly. “Now, we will start again. Mrs Carter, please will you be so kind as to tell me what you discovered.”

  He stands and moves back behind his desk and I breathe again. He is fixing me with a look that takes my breath away and refuses to give it back.

  Stuttering, I know I can refuse this man nothing and say breathlessly, “Mr Slater.”

  His eyes narrow. “What about him?”

  “He’s ripping you off.”

  Now I have his full attention. “Go on.”

  His voice is tight and controlled, and yet his eyes tell a different story. There is a storm building, threatening to wreak havoc on anyone that gets in its way.

  Taking a deep breath, I tell him what I saw and by the end of it, he brings his fist down on the table and snarls, “The bastard.”

  Looking down, I feel the tears building and feel broken inside. I can’t believe I’ve become the sort of person who sneaks around in the shadows and tells tales on another to further my own career. I hate myself.

  Then two hands grip my face and raise it to look at the man who I’ve discovered I love to hate. The storm has passed and he is looking at me with a mixture of awe and appreciation. He is so close I could just move slightly and feel his skin on mine and his breath is hot and sweet as he says, “Thank you.”

  Then he releases me and once again kneels before me, taking my hands in his. “Just so you know, Emma Carter…”

  I lick my lips nervously and his eyes darken with a look I haven’t seen in a long time – lust.

  “You’ve got the job.”

  He walks back around his desk and takes his seat, before staring once again at the computer screen. Without looking up, he says briskly, “We’ll be in touch, you may go.”

  Saying nothing, I stand and walk away on shaking legs. What just happened?

  As I leave his office, it still hasn’t registered that I did it. I actually went and did it. This is it; my new life starts now and it was all worthwhile. The lies, the deceit and the spying counted for something so fantastic in the end.

  Claire doesn’t look up as I pass, but I don’t care. Her job is now my job, and I’m the one who made it happen.

  Suddenly, the future looks bright and I couldn’t care less how I got here anymore. All the matters is that I did and nothing can ever feel as good as the feeling that follows me out of Crossline. I’m ecstatic.

  14

  Ronnie’s gone.

  Call it a premonition, but I knew something was different as soon as I stepped foot inside the house. It feels different. As if all the life has left and I know immediately that my husband has left me.

  Slowly, I walk into the kitchen where I see a white envelope on the countertop. My legs shake as I walk towards it and with trembling fingers tear it open and I stifle a sob as the words swim before my eyes.

  I’m sorry, Emma. I tried, believe me I, tried but this has got too big for me to handle. I let you down and I’m sorry about that. I never meant to hurt you, but when the truth comes out, I know you will hate me and I deserve every bit of it.

  I’ve left some money in the shoebox under the bed and there should be enough to keep you going for a few months. I know you will, but please don’t hate me for what I did and just remember I always loved you.

  Ronnie x

  The letter falls to the floor and the tears join it. What does he m
ean? I stare into space as I try to comprehend his words. He’s left me – really left me.

  Then my worst fears come back to haunt me with a vengeance and I stifle a cry of terror as I whisper, “Ronnie, what have you done?”

  On autopilot, I sit at the counter and just stare. What happened? Why has he gone, surely it can’t be that bad?

  It’s the part of me that’s a little relieved he’s gone that hurts the most. Am I really that callous to feel happy he’s made this easy on me? Then again, he is my husband and that has to count for something. I love him, surely, it’s still there. The last few weeks have shown me the man I fell in love with alongside a man I don’t recognise. It’s the unpredictable side of him that scares me. The side I haven’t seen until now, and the side that made up my mind I wanted out of this relationship. Ironically, he’s done it for me and I should be happy – shouldn’t I?

  I don’t think it really sinks in because I’m used to being here on my own. Then it hits me; I’ll have to move out. I can’t afford to stay here on my salary. Then again, perhaps I can. I’ve just secured an impressive pay rise, and maybe this was always going to happen. What if it was written in the stars and everything happens for a reason?

  My thoughts rage out of control as I struggle to understand what this now means. It’s too much to take in and a lot to deal with. Then I remember the shoe box waiting innocently upstairs. Maybe there’s more than money inside and nestled among it are the answers I seek.

  Quickly, I take the stairs two at a time and fumble for the box underneath the bed. As I pull it out, my heart beats fast and furious as I hope the answers lie inside.

  As I lift the lid, I blink in amazement because there must be thousands of pounds in here. Bundles of cash, all bounded together in rubber bands. There are too many piles to count and I catch my breath. What is this? Why does he have so much money hidden away?

 

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