up the lift to the plush glass-house occupied by the high and mighty at the top of the building, was something.
And at least she would be doing some real work; there was always a positive spin to be put on everything, she told herself. Also, Luc had been right: he would be able to dispatch her with reasonable references if she left with more experience, and that would mean something to him. It would reduce any residue of guilt that the job he had been forced to provide for her hadn’t worked out.
As she might have expected, he had taken a pragmatic view of what had happened. Whilst she had spent the weekend unable to function, he had worked out how to make sure she was dispatched in a way that would protect his privacy and preserve his conscience.
Helen’s office was private and luxurious, glass and chrome, with an adjoining door to Luc’s bigger, even more luxurious office. In between being shown the systems, she played with the thought that maybe seeing Luc on a daily basis would go somewhere to getting him out of her system. Didn’t familiarity breed contempt? There was never a person who longed for that as much as she did.
For the next week and a half, it really seemed to be working—in a manner of speaking. Because Luc, in full throttle, had to be seen to be believed. However early she made it to the office, he was always there before her. She brought him in a cup of coffee, and then life immediately went into the fast lane.
Even with his feet up on his desk, his tie askew, his mind was still working at such a rapid speed that she was barelyable to take time out to breathe, never mind pander to the temptation to sit back and just look at him.
‘Got that?’
With an efficiency Agatha would never have believed possible after the computer course she just scraped through months ago, she nodded and stood up, smoothing down her skirt in the process. When her eyes flicked to him, it was to find him staring at her with that speculative intensity that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Over the past week and a half, he had treated her with the scrupulous detachment of the boss towards his secretary. Now, as the clock ticked towards lunch time, he was finally looking at her, and all the nervousness that had been resting happily on the back burner bubbled up to the surface with ferocious speed.
‘You’ve certainly been hiding your light under a bushel,’ he drawled, pushing back his chair and then folding his hands behind his head. ‘For someone in love with the outdoor life, who hated anything to do with the office, you seem to be keeping up.’
Agatha could feel his cool, inscrutable eyes resting on her, and her heart did that hammering thing that always seemed to turn her brain to mush. Had she really kidded herself that she was somehow over him because she had been able to handle working alongside him without falling apart from nerves?
The prospect of being back at square one hit her like a punch in the stomach. Despite all her good intentions, she had done nothing to move on with her love life. She could see the possibility of becoming ensconced in this new, temporary position, which was doing nothing to promote the contempt she had been waiting for—the opposite, in fact—and then feeling the separation when she finally did leave even more than she would have bargained for.
The small shoots of a plan began to form in her head and she glumly gave it room while the man who still spiked her dreams continued to look at her with that mild, dispassionate interest.
‘I don’t have much choice, do I?’ She held his stare and tried not to fiddle with her fingers. ‘Anyway, I am kind of enjoying the work,’ she admitted truthfully. ‘It’s much more interesting than the stuff I was doing downstairs.’
‘Not my fault. You came to me without much going for you by way of experience in even the most lowly of office skills, and you never showed any interest in furthering your knowledge. How
And at least she would be doing some real work; there was always a positive spin to be put on everything, she told herself. Also, Luc had been right: he would be able to dispatch her with reasonable references if she left with more experience, and that would mean something to him. It would reduce any residue of guilt that the job he had been forced to provide for her hadn’t worked out.
As she might have expected, he had taken a pragmatic view of what had happened. Whilst she had spent the weekend unable to function, he had worked out how to make sure she was dispatched in a way that would protect his privacy and preserve his conscience.
Helen’s office was private and luxurious, glass and chrome, with an adjoining door to Luc’s bigger, even more luxurious office. In between being shown the systems, she played with the thought that maybe seeing Luc on a daily basis would go somewhere to getting him out of her system. Didn’t familiarity breed contempt? There was never a person who longed for that as much as she did.
For the next week and a half, it really seemed to be working—in a manner of speaking. Because Luc, in full throttle, had to be seen to be believed. However early she made it to the office, he was always there before her. She brought him in a cup of coffee, and then life immediately went into the fast lane.
Even with his feet up on his desk, his tie askew, his mind was still working at such a rapid speed that she was barelyable to take time out to breathe, never mind pander to the temptation to sit back and just look at him.
‘Got that?’
With an efficiency Agatha would never have believed possible after the computer course she just scraped through months ago, she nodded and stood up, smoothing down her skirt in the process. When her eyes flicked to him, it was to find him staring at her with that speculative intensity that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Over the past week and a half, he had treated her with the scrupulous detachment of the boss towards his secretary. Now, as the clock ticked towards lunch time, he was finally looking at her, and all the nervousness that had been resting happily on the back burner bubbled up to the surface with ferocious speed.
‘You’ve certainly been hiding your light under a bushel,’ he drawled, pushing back his chair and then folding his hands behind his head. ‘For someone in love with the outdoor life, who hated anything to do with the office, you seem to be keeping up.’
Agatha could feel his cool, inscrutable eyes resting on her, and her heart did that hammering thing that always seemed to turn her brain to mush. Had she really kidded herself that she was somehow over him because she had been able to handle working alongside him without falling apart from nerves?
The prospect of being back at square one hit her like a punch in the stomach. Despite all her good intentions, she had done nothing to move on with her love life. She could see the possibility of becoming ensconced in this new, temporary position, which was doing nothing to promote the contempt she had been waiting for—the opposite, in fact—and then feeling the separation when she finally did leave even more than she would have bargained for.
The small shoots of a plan began to form in her head and she glumly gave it room while the man who still spiked her dreams continued to look at her with that mild, dispassionate interest.
‘I don’t have much choice, do I?’ She held his stare and tried not to fiddle with her fingers. ‘Anyway, I am kind of enjoying the work,’ she admitted truthfully. ‘It’s much more interesting than the stuff I was doing downstairs.’
‘Not my fault. You came to me without much going for you by way of experience in even the most lowly of office skills, and you never showed any interest in furthering your knowledge. How
Similar Books
