Page 6 of His Secretary's Nine-Month Notice
‘Which, anyway, is just my arrogant way of appeasing my conscience.’
‘You said it,’ Violet muttered. ‘I didn’t.’
‘Actually, you did,’ Matt returned without batting an eyelid. ‘More than once although, admittedly, in various guises. Same message, however. Most people think twice when it comes to letting their opinions go into free fall when they’re with me, but you have never been reticent when it comes to saying what you think about my personal life. In your own quiet way, of course. So what’s the problem with your father?’
Violet could feel her skin burning. Had she really been that obvious? Or had the man noticed and retained every small, passing, barely audible remark she had made about some of his life choices? She thought she’d always been so careful, but clearly she hadn’t been nearly as careful as that.
‘I... My father...isn’t well...’
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Violet. Serious? How old is he?’
There was genuine sympathy in his voice, and something inside her weakened. She wasn’t accustomed to sharing, but right now she wanted nothing more than to spill her heart out to the man sitting opposite her with his head tilted to one side, his deep-blue eyes speculative and thoughtful.
‘How old is he?’ she repeated briskly. ‘Young. Not yet sixty.’
‘What’s wrong with him?’
‘It’s not really relevant, Matt.’ Violet shrugged, ignoring the temptation to say more than she knew she should. Her privacy was so important to her, so much an ingrained trait, that it was almost impossible to shed even when she wanted to.
It was a habit born from circumstance. Life on the move had put paid to friendships. How easy was it ever to formulate firm bonds with people you met in passing? Especially when you were young, too young to think ahead to the bigger picture. And of course, by the time life had become more settled, that habit had taken root, and those roots ran very deep indeed.
‘Of course it’s relevant,’ he said quietly. ‘You’re upset.’
‘And you’re imagining things.’
‘You don’t have to put on a brave front all the time,’ was his response, and she bristled, not liking the way he seemed to be circling her, making her feel lost and vulnerable. ‘Talk to me. You’ve handed in your notice. I think it’s fair to say that I deserve more of an explanation than“thank you for the opportunity to work for you. I’ve enjoyed my experience at your company, however, I feel that it’s time to move on...”’
Of course he did. Violet realised that somewhere, deep down, she would have been disappointed if he had accepted her letter of resignation with a philosophical shrug of those broad shoulders, no questions asked.
She’d worked for him and alongside him for two-and-a-half years and, yes, she had gradually come to see she knew him in ways far deeper than any of the women he went out with. She knew his idiosyncrasies, his quirks. And he, it would appear, knew her far better than she had ever imagined. It was unsettling, to say the least.
Besides, nothing he could say would change her decision, so where was the harm in a little confiding? She would leave his company and leave him behind and, if he had glimpsed that private side to her, then it wasn’t as if afterwards she would be facing him day after day, having to deal with his renewed curiosity in some awfulGroundhog Dayloop.
‘My father lives on the other side of the world,’ she began, frowning, getting her thoughts in order. ‘Australia, to be precise.’
‘How long as he been there? Where in Australia?’
‘Melbourne. He’s been there for...nearly six years. He went after... Well, he remarried. My mother died when I was young.’ She chewed her lip and looked away and Matt didn’t say anything. He hated crying women. Just something else she knew about him—and she did her utmost to make sure she didn’t give in to the wave of maudlin despondency threatening to ambush all her good intentions.
‘Take your time. I’m in no hurry.’
‘Sure you want this kind of conversation?’ Violet lightened her tone, but when their eyes met there was no responding teasing in his. He looked deadly serious.
‘Why wouldn’t I?’
‘Because you don’t do long, intense conversations with women. I think that’s something you’ve shared with me in the past.’
‘How well you know me,’ Matt murmured, with a certain amount of amusement. ‘You’re not one of my women, though, are you? So it’s fair to say that normal rules of engagement don’t apply.’
Not one of his women...
Violet felt a sharp pang somewhere deep inside her, a sharp and utterly inappropriate pang. Thank goodness shewasn’t‘one of his women,’ she told herself. Knowing him as well as she did, that would have been a recipe for heartbreak, because he represented everything she didn’t want in a guy and would never want.
She might have been a sucker for those sinful, dark looks—who wouldn’t be?—but she was way too sensible to go any further down that dangerous road of attraction.
She shrugged, expression veiled. To kill time and get her thoughts in order, she offered him a top up on the coffee and, when he politely declined, she reluctantly suggested a glass of wine, which he accepted with alacrity.
‘So, you were telling me about your father...the one you’ve avoided mentioning for the past two-and-a-half years...who lives in Melbourne, a place I know well.’
