Carole Mortimer - First Love, Last Love

‘I wasn’t thanking you!’ she told him in her normal voice.

‘Ah, that’s better.’ He sounded mocking even over the telephone. ‘Why the change in voice?’ he asked interestedly.

‘I didn’t want to be recognised. After all,’ she added hastily, ‘I do work here. I wouldn’t want your secretary to make the connection between Lauri in the typing pool and the Lauren who just telephoned you.’

‘Is that likely?’

‘I—– Well, it could be.’

‘I would doubt my secretary is any more familiar with the girls in the typing pool than I am,’ he drawled mockingly. ‘Would you?’

This girl she was! ‘Probably not,’ she evaded a direct answer. ‘But it wasn’t worth the risk.’

‘Would it be too much to ask what this call is about? I thought it had been decided that your—friend was to take the blame for allowing you to drive his car.’

‘Yes, well, I—I’ve been thinking, and—and—–’

‘And?’ he prompted tersely.

‘And if your invitation to dinner still stands I would like to discuss—terms.’

‘It doesn’t,’ he told her curtly. ‘Forget the dinner invitation.’

‘Oh.’ Her heart sank. She had been rude to him and he wasn’t about to forgive such an insult from a nobody like her. ‘Please, Mr Blair. I’m sorry for what I said. I—–’

‘The dinner invitation is out,’ he repeated. ‘But one for lunch today is open,’ he added enquiringly.

‘Lunch today?’ Her mouth gaped open and she quickly closed it again, realising that although her conversation couldn’t be heard by the girls outside the office her reaction to it could clearly be seen.

‘Well?’ he rasped, pretty much as he had done after administering that punishing kiss yesterday.

‘I—–’

‘Or do you usually have lunch with your boy-friend?’ he interrupted before she could form an answer.

‘Not always. Usually, but not always.’

‘Then today can be one of the exceptions.’ It sounded like an order. ‘I’ll meet you in reception at twelve-thirty.’

‘No! No, Mr Blair,’ she said more calmly. ‘I’d rather meet you somewhere away from here.’

‘I am not in the habit of sneaking out to meet anyone.’ His icy anger could quite easily be detected.

‘Then perhaps you shouldn’t take insignificant typists from your own typing pool to lunch.’ Her own anger equalled his. ‘That way you wouldn’t have to sneak around.’

‘Lauren—–’ he began in a threatening tone.

‘Okay, okay, I’m sorry,’ she sighed. ‘But you got angry first,’ she accused.

To her surprise she heard him chuckle, a rich deep sound that made her feel like smiling too. ‘Okay,’ he accepted, ‘I got angry first. But who made me angry, hmm?’

‘I did,’ she admitted freely. ‘But try to understand, I don’t want to be seen with you.’

‘Thanks!’

She sighed. ‘Will you stop misunderstanding everything I say?’ she snapped.

‘As long as you promise to stop reprimanding me,’ he returned smoothly.

‘Reprimanding you? Me? Don’t be ridiculous!’

‘You see,’ he laughed, ‘you’re doing it again.’

At least he could laugh about it! ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled.

‘You’re forgiven,’ he said huskily soft. ‘And as you don’t want to be seen with me—–’

‘I didn’t mean that—–’

‘I know. Look, I don’t have any more time to sit here chatting to you. Pleasant as it may be,’ he added mockingly. ‘I’ll fall in with your wishes for the moment, and meet you at Marlo’s at one o’clock. All right?’

Marlo’s was a fashionable restaurant that had opened up a few months ago not far from here—and Lauri knew her denims and pretty lawn blouse weren’t suitable for such a place. ‘Couldn’t we go somewhere less—less—I’m not dressed for it!’ she told him crossly.

‘No, you aren’t, are you,’ he mused. ‘Okay, I’ll think of something else. Just meet me outside Marlo’s at one. We’ll go on somewhere else from there.’

‘But—–’

‘Do you ever stop arguing?’ he sighed impatiently. ‘I’m not used to women who argue with me.’

Then perhaps he should be, she thought bitchily. Alexander Blair was much too fond of his own way for her liking. ‘I argue with you because I’m not used to being ordered about,’ she said with great daring. ‘I like to be consulted, not told.’

‘Maybe that’s why you can’t hold on to your boy-friends,’ he remarked dryly. ‘The man likes to be in charge, Lauren, not the other way around.’

‘I can hold on to my boy-friends!’ she told him angrily.

‘Is that why the Canadian boy is deserting you at the end of the week and Steve Prescott has been reduced to the level of a friend?’

‘The reasons for Daryl leaving at the end of the week and Steve being a friend of mine are none of your business,’ Lauri told him with dignity. ‘I’m having to meet you to sort out the problem of your car, but that doesn’t mean you have the right to ask personal questions.’

To her consternation she heard him laugh. ‘My dear girl, I have no intention of asking you personal questions.’

‘But you—you did!’ she accused.

‘It was a question in the form of a statement, Lauren. Now, much as I’m enjoying this conversation,’ he added in a bored voice, his tone instantly giving lie to his words, ‘I have work to do. I’m sure you do too. May I remind you that you’re making this call in my time, and on a firm’s telephone, no doubt?’

Lauri flushed her guilt, glad he couldn’t see her. ‘One o’clock, I think you said?’

‘That’s right.’ The line went dead as he rang off.

Lauri put the telephone down her end, an angry sparkle in her glittering green eyes, a furious flush to her cheeks, her mouth set in a mutinous line. Bossy, overbearing—All the names she had previously called him seemed mild in comparison to what she wanted to call him now.

God, he was an arrogant swine! Just because he owned this firm, was her employer, it didn’t give him the right to treat her as if she had no more intelligence than a rather slow-witted child. If he thought he could talk to her in that manner and get away with it then he was in for a shock. She—–

Carly’s wry chuckle broke in on her vehement thoughts. ‘I pity poor Daryl if he’s the cause of all that anger,’ she teased, coming back into her office.

Lauri gave a start of surprise, so intense had been her dislike of Alexander Blair that she had forgotten where she was for the moment. She forced a smile to her lips and stood up to leave. ‘He doesn’t need your pity,’ she told Carly tightly. And she didn’t mean Daryl! ‘He’s just too fond of having his own way.’

‘Aren’t we all?’ Carly smiled.

‘Perhaps.’ But Alexander Blair had met his match in her, Lauri Prescott, she would make sure of that.

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