The Boss's Proposal by Cathy Williams

tight with anger, at himself and incidentally with her simply for providing such ludicrous temptation . ‘I’ll need them,’ he said, opening her door for her and walking around to the driver’s seat, ‘by lunchtime tomorrow. And cancel mymeetings for next Monday. I’ll be in New York for three days. Problems with Eva, one of the subsidiaries.’ He glanced at her as he pulled out of the drive. ‘It would be useful if I had a secretary there.’
    â€˜If you like, I can arrange for Tina, Roger’s secretary, to accompany you. I know she likes overseas trips.’
    His eyes, fixed on the road, were wintry when he answered. ‘Leave it. I’ll see what can be arranged over there.’ And he would bide his time. He had never been a man noted for his patience. He was learning fast.

CHAPTER FIVE
    T HE following Monday, no sooner had she sat at her desk and switched on the computer terminal than Vicky’s internal line buzzed her.
    Mandy from Personnel. She had arranged for one of their company architects to have a look at her house and ascertain the cost of any building work needing to be done.
    A choking fit ensued as Vicky swallowed a mouthful of coffee down the wrong way, a reaction to her shock at this sudden development.
    â€˜Building work?’ she asked giddily.
    â€˜You mentioned to the big man that you wanted to take advantage of our company policy of subsidised building work for employees?’
    â€˜In passing, perhaps…I didn’t mean to imply that speed was of the element…’
    â€˜You’ll learn,’ Mandy said dryly from down the end of the telephone. ‘Max Forbes doesn’t sit on things. He can make a decision in less time than it takes me to make a cup of instant coffee.’ There was admiration in her voice. ‘And he’s obviously decided that your house is in immediate need of repair work. You poor thing. Coming all the way here from Australia to find your house falling about around your ears.’
    â€˜Falling about around my ears…?’ Vicky repeated in parrot like fashion.
    â€˜That’s the problem with lodgers,’ Mandy continued confidentially. ‘My sister rented her house out for a year and it was a mess when she moved back in. Cigarette burnseverywhere and the oven had to be chucked out completely. Anyway, Andy Griggs, the architect, is terrific. So…’ There was the sound of clicking in the background, ‘I’m looking at a week today, twelve-thirty. You can meet with him in your lunch hour, unless you’d rather arrange it for the evening?’
    â€˜No!’ Vicky said hastily. ‘Lunchtime would suit me a lot better!’ What was going on? She didn’t want any building work done to her house! In fact, if her memory served her clearly, she was in the process of trying to tactfully terminate her employment at the company because the smell of trouble was getting stronger with each passing day. ‘No, what I mean is…I don’t want …any building work…’
    â€˜I know,’ Mandy said sympathetically. Click, click, click. Things were ominously being punched in, in the background. ‘Who does? At least you work, so you can be out of the house when they’re there. You’ll just get back to a sinkful of tea-stained mugs and ladders and work-benches everywhere. So, I’ve pencilled you in for next Monday. Andy’ll meet you at your place, and you shouldn’t be longer than a hour…’
    â€˜Next Monday.’ Her external line was blinking furiously. In ten minutes the post would be delivered and she wouldn’t be able to raise her head above water until mid-afternoon at least. She would sort all this building nonsense out later.
    Except by the time the thought of architects, builders and Mandy’s phone call resurfaced, Vicky was on her way to the childminder to collect Chloe, who was waiting for her with an