Page 13 of His Secretary's Nine-Month Notice
He waved his hand dismissively, without bothering to glance back in her direction. ‘Do what you can. Just make sure you’re here when I get back. Oh, and you can take your work computer down to Hannah in HR.’ He turned to look at her. ‘Wouldn’t want you getting any ideas about nabbing customer details in my absence.’
‘Matt,’ Violet said huskily. She rested her hand on his arm and just as quickly removed it. It was the first time she had ever knowingly touched him in any capacity and the feel of his flesh was as potent as the punch of a branding iron. ‘Tell me you don’t honestly think that I would ever do anything to undermine you? Yes, I’m leaving, but I wouldneverbe disloyal. I wouldneverconsider poaching any of your accounts. Never.’
‘Duly noted.’
‘I have no idea what that means.’
‘It means that I didn’t get where I have by trusting other people. After two-and-a-half years, you walk out with a polite one-paragraph email tendering your resignation, and it was only because I showed up at your house that I now have any idea about the person you are and the life you lead. When you discover you don’t know someone at all, it’s time to consider trust issues. So tidy up the cabinet, Violet, and don’t worry about a replacement. I’ll be handling that myself.’
Reeling from what he had just said, knowing that he was justified in saying it, Violet remained frozen by the door as he whistled his way out of the office and towards the bank of lifts.
When she faced the metal cabinet, she was grateful for the tedious monotony of the job he had given her to do, a pointless passing-the-time-of-dayexercise because he no longer wanted her near anything that might be considered sensitive.
Because, in his opinion, she’d deceived him. She had a whole life that he didn’t know about and her secrecy had caught him on the back foot. He saw her now in a different light and it wasn’t a flattering one. Violet hated that, but what he saw as secrecy she accepted as just part and parcel of her personality.
She had been thrust into growing up when her mother had died and her father had gone to pieces. She had mourned in her own private way because she had had the job of making sure her father was all right and coping.
From a young age, there had been a gradual role reversal, and Violet had dealt with the responsibilities that had landed on her shoulders by gritting her teeth and getting on with it. She’d focused, amid chaos, on what needed doing—the practical stuff that had kept her father tethered through his wild drinking and drug-taking days. She’d focused on her studies, wherever in the world they happened to be as he toured, taking advantage of the internet and doing all sorts of exams online so that she kept up. There had been private tutors, but they had come and gone without much consistency. She had had to learn to depend on herself and she had.
And along the way, the simple business of opening up to other people, sharing and having a laugh about the things that happened to her, had gradually disappeared under the weight of her responsibilities. She adored her father, and she wouldn’t have dreamt of putting herself first, but there had been consequences. Living surrounded by people coming and going, by the noise of guitars being played, pianos being tuned and drums being banged, Violet had learned the value of quiet. There had been few kids around her age who had hung around, so she had missed the phase of girlish confidences.
How was Matt to know all that, however? All he could see was someone who had been by his side 24/7 for over two years, who had decided to turn her back and walk away, and the only explanation had been forced out of her at gunpoint.
She miserably undertook the task allotted to her while mentally trying to convince herself that it was just great that she would be able to leave immediately. Perhaps, next week, she might return to take some of the team out for a farewell drink, but then she thought of Matt coming along and she quailed.
It was after three when she heard the sound of Matt approaching. Noise usually heralded his entrance. People coming over to tell him about some new development, tech guys trying to persuade him into taking time out so that he could sample some new game or app that was on the brink of fruition. There was always someone who needed his signature somewhere and they tended to get increasingly frustrated when he chose to ignore them.
She looked up as the office door was pushed open. The job she had undertaken was far from complete and she was sitting amidst a pool of manuals, textbooks and pamphlets.
‘You can drop all that,’ he opened, strolling towards his desk. ‘I have another job for you to do before you disappear to the vast blue yonder. Candy, meet Violet. Violet, meet your replacement.’
Violet turned and stared. Framed in the doorway was a five-foot-ten blonde who looked as though she had just stepped off the catwalk. Her hair reached her waist, a heavy fall of pale vanilla. Not much was left to the imagination with the dress code, and long, tanned legs were on show. Her eyes were a rich, bright blue and a crop top, barely skirting generous breasts, skimmed across her flat belly, proudly showing a pierced belly button. The piercing glittered in the rays of the summer sun shafting through semi-transparent blinds that covered the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.
‘Ooh...’ She did a full circle, admiring the office, while Violet carried on staring, literally lost for words. ‘Ilovethe office.’ Her eyes were bright and enthusiastic and they settled on Violet with lively curiosity. ‘You must be Miss Dunn.’ She dimpled. ‘Matt got hold of me from a friend of a friend of a friend and, as luck would have it, I was in between jobs. When shall we get down to things?’
‘No time like the present,’ Matt drawled, raising both eyebrows at Violet’s startled expression. ‘Why don’t you show Candy the ropes for the rest of the day, Violet?’
‘Of course.’ Violet levered herself up, acutely self-conscious as she smoothed down the creased skirt and slipped her stockinged feet back into the neat black pumps. The blonde towered over her, five foot ten to five foot and an optimistic three and a half.
She turned her back on Matt. He had sauntered over to his desk and when she headed towards her office with Candy in tow, about to shut the dividing door between them, he called out for her to leave it open.
Violet glanced behind her. He was sprawled in his chair, feet on his desk, hands folded behind his head. His ‘thinking mode’,he had once told her. Right now, it was going to be his keeping-an-eye-on-the-potential-traitor mode, and she determined to don her best professional hat and ignore him completely.
The next two hours were painful. Candy, it transpired, was a friend of a friend of a girl Matt had dated four months previously, whom he had clearly met somewhere at some point and had stashed her name in that computer-bank memory of his for future reference. Probably as a potential date down the line but now, remembering her qualifications, as secretary material.
She was bright enough and enthusiastic enough, but she also asked sufficient questions about Matt for Violet to guess that it wasn’t going to be quite the boss-secretary relationship he needed. But, hey, if he’d come to the conclusion that having someone decorative around was worth more than having someone less glamorous but a whole lot more grounded, dedicated and, frankly,qualified, then good luck to him.
Candy had very long nails, painted a brazen shade of pink, and Violet idly wondered how they were going to fare on the keyboard of a computer. She wondered whether the frantic clicking of long nails on the keys would irritate her notoriously short-tempered boss and promptly decided that it was none of her business.
‘You can scuttle off now,’ Matt interrupted them when Violet was just about at the end of her tether. ‘And I’m talking to Candy. You, Violet, are to stay a while longer.’
They both waited while Candy rustled her possessions together, talking all the while, breathless, bubbly and very much like the women he dated...
‘I’m not sure she’s the right one for the job,’ was the first thing Violet said as soon as they were alone together back in Matt’s office, and the outside door was firmly shut against wagging ears and prying eyes.
‘Are you saying that because I’ve put your nose out of joint by ignoring your words of wisdom and not taking on board the suggestions you so very kindly made?’ He swerved round his desk, sat down and then pointed for her to pull up the other chair. ‘Maybe I fancy having someone open and honest and... What’s the word I’m looking for...?’
‘Not really up to anything too complicated?’
