Page 22 of My Destiny
“Please.”
Hanging up, I drop the phone onto my desk. I exhale a long, drawn out breath and run my fingers through my hair. That’s not how I anticipated the morning would go down.
My thoughts again turn to Brooke as I pace back and forth. I hope she’s okay. I’m pleased she left him, and pray she had the sense to get as far away from that unstable bastard as possible. If only there was a way I could contact her, just to check, or at the very least see if there is anything I could do to help.
I’m deep in conversation with Jim when there’s a knock on my office door. “It’s me.”
“Yes, Claire.”
She opens the door and pokes her head inside. “I have Jenny Morris, Mr. Johnston’s secretary, here to see you,” she says.
“Send her in.”
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Cavanagh,” Jenny asks, her hands fidgeting by her side.
“Please, take a seat,” I say, gesturing towards one of the two leather seats opposite me. “You know Mr. Maloney?”
“I do,” she utters in a quiet voice before greeting him with a nod.
“Miss Morris,” Jim says in an authoritative tone. When it comes to business, Jim can be extremely tough when needed, but ultimately is very fair. In real life though, he’s a sweet man. He worked alongside my father for many years, and my father has the greatest respect for him, which speaks volumes. My old man hates everybody.
She places her hands under her legs once she’s seated and leans forward slightly in her chair. She looks anxious, and has every reason to be. I take a few moments to observe her. She’s not what I’d call ugly, but she’s certainly not beautiful either. She doesn’t hold a candle to Brooke, and I’m puzzled as to why Johnston would even consider risking what he had with his wife for this woman.
“Do you know why I’ve asked you here?” I place my palms down on the desk as I speak. I’ve calmed down considerably, but I’m still pissed. I shouldn’t even be dealing with this shit.
“No. No, I don’t,” she answers.
“Are you familiar with the company’s policies, Miss Morris?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
Her answer annoys me. “The policies regarding your employment.”
“Umm… policies? I’m not sure I understand.”
I look over at Jim, and he seems just as unimpressed as I do. “Okay, let me spell it out for you. Do you remember the ‘No fraternising with staff’ clause in your contract?” I rummage through her employment file in front of me, removing the contract she signed before starting. I flick through the pages until I find what I’m looking for. “Clause eight,” I say, passing it to her.
“Oh.” All the colour drains from her face as she reads it. “I don’t remember reading that in my contract of employment.”
She’s lying. I can spot a liar from a mile away. I insist that all employees read it thoroughly before signing it. She passes it back to me, and I skip to the last page. “Is that your signature on the bottom of the page?” I hold it out in front of her.
“Yes, but I still don’t understand what this is about.”
“Really?” I sit up straighter in my chair. “You don’t remember being intimate with Mr. Johnston at the Christmas function on Friday evening?”
“No,” she screeches as her eyes widen. “Whoever said that is lying.”
I bang my hand down on the desk. I’m through playing games. “I saw it with my own eyes, Miss Morris, along with a few other people.”
She swallows hard before answering. “Well it was outside of work, so technically it doesn’t count.” The arrogance in her voice only irritates me further.
I take a deep breath and count to five in my head. “Do I need to remind you that it was at aworkfunction? Would you like me to read the clause out to you?”
“I’m sorry,” she says, reining in her attitude.
“You do realise Mr. Johnston is married?”
“So?” She shrugs. “Obviously not happily.”
