Lucy Gordon: Her Italian Boss’s Agenda

‘I can’t afford to hate them.’

‘But if you could, you would, huh?’

‘I think I’d better not answer that. Let me explain how this all fits together.’

She proceeded to give him a run-down of the firm and its relations with Leonate. Her mind was clear and well-informed, and she had details at her fingertips. When his umpteenth attempt to trip her up failed he admitted to himself that he was impressed.

He had also to admit that he was finding it hard to concentrate through the distraction of her perfume. At first he hadn’t been sure she was wearing any, so subtle and mysterious was it. But at close range the muted aroma just reached him, then faded, returned, faded again, teasing him with uncertainty.

The aroma, if there was one, was unlike anything he’d known before. He was used to women who dabbed on hot musk to entice him, but this had a cool, restrained quality that was almost like winter. Winter about to become spring, he thought: sweet-smelling fires in the snow, the smoke blown hither and thither, always on the verge of vanishing, always lingering.

The phone rang and she answered quickly.

‘Sara? What’s the news?’

‘I’m in hospital,’ came Sara’s voice. ‘It’ll be months before I can work. I’m sorry, Olympia.’

‘Don’t worry about anything. If the baby’s all right, that’s what counts.’

‘Bless you.’

Olympia replaced the receiver thoughtfully. Primo was watching her face.

‘Your secretary’s not coming back?’ he asked.

‘It seems not. In which case-’

She looked up as a shadow appeared in the doorway and a neat young woman hurried in.

‘Miss Lincoln? I’m so sorry not to have got here earlier-’

‘Was I expecting you?’

‘Central Staff sent me. They said you needed a secretary.’

‘But-’ She gave a quick look at Primo, who let out his breath uneasily. ‘But you-’

‘It’s a bit complicated,’ he hedged.

‘Will you wait outside, please?’ she asked the newcomer pleasantly.

When the young woman had gone she faced him.

‘I think you have some explaining to do. Just who are you?’

‘I told you, my name is Jack Cayman.’

‘But who is Jack Cayman? And why did he claim to be my secretary when he wasn’t?’

‘Ah, be fair. I never actually said that’s who I was. You jumped to a conclusion.’

‘Which you did nothing to correct.’

‘You didn’t give me a chance. You informed me why I was there, snapped your fingers, and I said, “Yes, ma’am, anything you say, ma’am.” And let’s face it, that’s the kind of answer you prefer.’

He knew this was an exaggeration, but he was fighting with his back to the wall. Anything was better than the truth.

Or was it? This could be his last chance to make a fresh start. He took a deep breath, but before he could speak a voice from the doorway sealed his fate.

‘Jack, my dear fellow, how good to see you!’

It was Cedric Tandy, advancing on him, smiling, playing his allotted part.

He made some reply. He had no idea what it was. Inwardly he was cursing.

‘I see you’ve met Olympia,’ Cedric burbled on, oblivious to the wreckage he was causing. ‘That’s good-excellent.’

‘Oh, yes, we’ve met,’ Olympia said with glassy-eyed courtesy. ‘But we were still sorting out who’s who.’

‘I hadn’t explained who I am and where I come from,’ Primo said, giving Cedric a glance fierce enough to silence him. ‘It’s a bit difficult to-you might call me a sort of ambassador, an outrider, sent to prepare the land before the big guns arrive.’

‘And was coming to my office a part of preparing the land?’ Olympia asked with deadly brightness.

‘Your name has been mentioned as one of the assets of the firm,’ he said. ‘Now we’ve talked I can see I’m going to rely on you for a lot of information. Perhaps the three of us can have lunch together, and exchange views.’

‘Wonderful idea!’ Cedric exclaimed.

‘You’re very kind,’ Olympia said coolly, ‘but I’m afraid my lunch will be an apple at my desk. I’ve got a new secretary starting today, and I have to work with her.’

Cedric, aghast at this cavalier treatment of a man who came from the seat of power, began to mutter urgently, ‘Olympia, I really think-’

‘Naturally I respect your decision,’ Primo interposed smoothly. ‘Some other time. Cedric, why don’t we go somewhere and talk?’

The two of them departed, leaving Olympia to reflect that she’d made a mess of everything, and it was all his fault.

She wanted to bang her head against the wall.

Or his.

Before leaving, Olympia looked in on Cedric, who informed her cheerfully that the newcomer had left an hour ago.

And he hadn’t tried to talk to her again. Which meant that it wasn’t just a mess. It was a complete and total mess. She ground her teeth.

In the firm’s car park she headed for her new car, a prized possession whose gleaming lines usually brought her comfort. She surveyed them for a moment, trying to take the usual pleasure in this sign of success, but tonight something was out of kilter, as if a genie had threatened to rub a lamp the wrong way and snatch it all back.

Beneath her calm she was furious, more with herself than anyone else. Her plans had been laid so carefully. Primo Rinucci would arrive to find her one step ahead of him, which, of course, he would never suspect. She would play him like a fish on a line, as she had done before, although never when there was so much to win and lose.

And she’d blown it. Caught off-guard, she’d revealed her true feelings, something you just didn’t do! Not if you wanted to reach the top as badly as she did.

Now he knew, and he would report back that she was not only stupid enough to mistake his identity, but hostile to her new employers. Great!

As she pulled out of the line and headed for the exit she became aware that another car had slipped in behind her. It followed her out on to the road and remained on her tail, keeping a safe distance, but definitely following. Glancing into her mirror she caught a glimpse of the driver and drew in a sharp breath. Him again!

Two impulses warred within her. One said this man came from the Leonate Head Office and she should be charming and recover lost ground.

The other said punch his lights out.

She compromised.

Half a mile later the road broadened out and she took the chance to draw into the kerb, get out and face him.

‘Are you following me?’ she demanded.

‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘I meant to catch up with you in the car park, but I just missed you. I thought we could talk.’

‘You couldn’t simply have suggested a meeting?’

‘And get comprehensively snubbed? I don’t think my fragile ego could stand it a second time in one day.’

‘Fragile my foot!’ she fumed. ‘We “talked” this morning, and I’m still regretting it. You practised a wicked deception on me-’

‘Not wicked,’ he pleaded. ‘Foolish, I grant you. I was stupid, it was a joke that went wrong, but when you just assumed that I was your secretary-well, can you blame me for playing along?’

‘Yes,’ she said firmly. ‘It was unprofessional.’

‘And not checking the facts was the height of professionalism, I suppose?’ he said, stung. ‘No, look, I’m sorry I said that. I don’t want to turn this into a fight.’

‘Then you’re several hours too late. It became a fight the moment you thought I was there for your entertainment and tricked me into saying things that-’ She shuddered as she recalled her incautious words.

‘I didn’t force you to say that stuff about “His Majesty” like “To hell with Primo Rinucci!” You were bursting to say it to someone.’