Jessica Steele - The Feisty Fiancée

When he did speak, it was to remind her, `You wished to see me?'

So he was throwing the ball into her court. She took a deep breath-bother the man for making her nervous. `I want my job back,' she said bluntly-oh, grief, she hadn't rehearsed it this way. She saw a trace of ice chill his eyes, and guessed she wasn't going the right way to get it. `Please,' she added, as an afterthought.

Last Friday, in this room, she had thought very briefly-that the man opposite had marginally cracked his face a touch, as if she'd amused him. His mouth tweaked again, but it was so fleeting, she was again certain she was mistaken. In any case, she didn't care to be laughed at.

'So?' he enquired curtly.

So? She stared at him from puzzled and deeply blue eyes. `Oh!' It suddenly clicked.

Though before she could get her wits together and rush into her story Thomson Wakefield, as if thinking her particularly dense, enlightened her. `So why should I give you your job back?'

Yancie didn't care to be thought dense either. `Because I need it,' she answered, which she realised was not the answer he wanted. Therefore, before she started to lie her head off, she managed to find a smile, which had much the same effect on him as any of her other smiles-precisely none-and bucked her ideas up. `Obviously you want to know what I was doing driving where I shouldn't have been a week ago last Thursday,' she said prettily.

He was unimpressed, but his glance to his watch, as if to say if she didn't soon spit it out he'd be making that suspension permanent, prodded her to get on with it. `It might be an idea,' he suggested, and Yancie was certain she heard sarcasm there.

It was the annoyance she felt with him, his sarcasm, and his barely concealed impatience that he could look at his watch, which gave her the kick start she needed. `I really can't think why I didn't tell you the truth before,' she lied. `Other than, of course, I knew I was in the wrong, and…' she tried another smilezilch! '…nobody likes to be in the wrong.' Silence. `But, the plain truth of the matter is, I went to see my sister.'

'Your sister?'

She might well have said `cousin' since she did have those, but had no sister. But Yancie was ever conscious of her connection with her board member half-cousin, Greville, and, fearing she might trip herself up if she started talking `cousins', she'd thought it better to invent a sister. In her view if she was going to have to tell a lie anyway she might as well make it a good one.

'My sister had been to stay with me for a few days, with her toddler daughterer Miranda. Anyhow,' Yancie rushed on, suddenly starting to feel extremely uncomfortable at lying-though still feeling unable to tell the truth and bring Wilf into it. `Anyhow, my nniece has this soft toy, a lion, called Leo. She's devoted to Leo, but no sooner had they arrived back at their home, early, very early on Thursday morning, than my sister was ringing me to say they'd just discovered Miranda had left Leo behind, and was inconsolable without him.' Yancie, most of her lying out of the way, looked directly at Thomson Wakefield. She smiled; he didn't. `You know how children are.'

He surveyed her coolly. `I don't have any.'

'Well-er-I' in sure your wife would know…'

'Had I a wife, Miss Dawkins, I'm sure she would, but I am not married.'

'Oh!' Yancie looked at him with fresh eyes. Given that his smiles were non-existent, to anybody who didn't dislike him as much as she did, she supposed he was good-lookingin fact, quite dishy.

'Oh?' he queried when she had added nothing.

Yancie quickly got herself back together again. Dishy? Was she crazy? `Oh, anyway, the child-er-Miranda wouldn't have slept a wink that Thursday night if I hadn't been able to get Fanta-I mean Leo-to her. As I mentioned, she was already fretting dreadfully. I promised my sister I'd get the-er-lion to her that day. But-how?'

His grey eyes were cool. In fact, as he looked steadily at her, the whole of the man seemed cool; while suddenly she was boiling hot-well, who wouldn't be after trotting out that load of balderdash? But, balderdash or not, had he believed it?

Yancie waited, barely breathing, and was so relieved she didn't have a chance to feel guilty when it seemed he had, indeed, believed her, when he stated, `You decided to deliver the lion personally.'

'I know I shouldn't have, and I wouldn't do such a thing again,' she promised. `But it was an emergency, and little Cassandra's M-Miranda-she's sometimes called Cassandra…' clown, concentrate `…stopped crying the moment she saw her adored lion.'

'For which we must all be truly grateful,' Thomson Wakefield commented dryly. Sarcastic devil. Yancie waited, wondering if she had said too little, but afraid to say more. This lie-telling wasn't as easy as she'd imagined. She waited, stumped to know anyhow what more she could say. Then the head man was leaning back in his chair. `So you think, on the strength of what you've just told me, I should consider cancelling your suspension?"

'If you wouldn't mind,' she requested quietly.

And had to bear his long scrutiny before Thomson Wakefield said, `Very well.' Hope rose-but she'd thought she'd still got her job last Friday-until he'd added that `but'.

'You mean, I'm reinstated?' she checked carefully.

'As of now,' he confirmed. `Though, after you've been to see Kevin Veasey, I suggest you go home.'

Yancie stared at him, her confusion showing. 'I'm reinstated, but I'm to go home? I don't understand.'

'You're driving tomorrow,' he enlightened her. `Any problem with that?'

Tomorrow was Saturday, but… `Not one,' she quickly assured him.

'Good.'

'I expect Kevin will tell me who I'm driving, and where,' she remarked, relief starting to enter her soul-she had her job back, she did, she did! The interview was over-and she'd been reinstated!

But before she could politely thank Thomson Wakefield for allowing her to continue to work for the firm, prior to getting to her feet and getting out of there, he was knocking them straight from under her by saying smoothly, `Oh, I can tell you that.' And with something near to a smile on his face he announced, 'You'll be driving me.'

Yancie stared at him, and blushed, though she had not the smallest notion why she should blush-something emotional, she supposed. `You!' she said faintly-this the man last seen driving himself in an Aston Martin!

'Strange though it seems to you,' he replied, a man who apparently was able to add mindreader to the rest of his accomplishments, `I quite often require to be driven to some meeting or other.'

He had meetings, on a Saturday! On reflection, Yancie supposed that he would. Thinking about it, she realised that no business was likely to so much as get off the ground, much less be the giant concern Addison Kirk was, if those at the top, the decision-makers, shut up shop on the dot of five every Friday evening.

'Yes, of course,' she agreed-well, she wasn't likely to start disagreeing with him, not now-not now she had her lovely job back. 'If-er-you can give me some loose idea of the time your meeting is scheduled to finish,' she went on agreeably, adding hurriedly, `I know, of course, that meetings very often overrun-which, naturally, isn't a problem; I'll still be in ample time to attend Gr…the party I'm going to tomorrow night.' Yancie started to feel hot all over again because she had almost slipped up there and mentioned Greville's name, even though she knew there was more than one male with the name Greville out there.

But Thomson Wakefield was nearly smiling again, and didn't look in the least tiny bit sorry when he went on to let her know that her surmise that his meeting was a morning one was totally erroneous. `I'm afraid you'll be missing your party tomorrow evening,' he informed her smoothly.