Michelle Douglas - The Secretary's Secret

He surveyed her over the rim of his glass. When she realized he’d caught her out staring at him again, she sent him an abashed grin. ‘I don’t get it,’

she confessed.

Al his muscles were primed for flight. ‘Get what?’

‘For the eleven months that I worked for you, Alex, you’d come into the office every day the epitome of the assured businessman…’

He relaxed a fraction. ‘And?’

‘Look, I understand your roots lie in manual labour, but…’

His gut clenched. ‘But?’ Jacqueline had hated that about him.

‘But I don’t understand how you can stil be so comfortable and capable and easy with this kind of work.’

Her admiration—admiration she didn’t even try to hide—made him stand a little tal er. He drained his juice and then shrugged. ‘It’s like riding a bicycle.’

‘Believe me, I’d wobble. I’d stay upright, but I’d wobble.’

She made it so easy to laugh.

‘Top up?’

She held up the jug and, before he knew what he was about, he found himself ensconced in the other chair, sipping more juice. ‘I have had some recent practice,’ he found himself confessing. ‘In Africa.’

She leaned forward. Her lips twitched. ‘Did your cabin fal down or something?’

He tried to warn himself that this was how her enchantments started—teasing, fun, laughter. He promised to bring a halt to it soon and get back to work. ‘How much would you laugh if I said yes?’

Her eyes danced. ‘I’d bray like a hyena, but…’

She suddenly sobered. ‘I understand you did some aid work?’

It was hardly a question, more a statement, but he nodded anyway. ‘How d’you know?’

‘The rumour mil at Hal am’s was ful of it before I left.’

‘I was part of a team that helped to build an orphanage.’ When he’d read the brochure he’d hoped that building an orphanage would help him forget Kit. And that it would help al ay some of the guilt raging through his soul.

She waved a finger at him. ‘You might like to act al hard and self-contained, Alex Hal am, but I have your number, buddy.’

He went to correct her, to tel her he was hard and heartless and that she’d be wise not to forget it, but before he could get the words out she said, ‘You’re nothing but a great big mushroom.’

That threw him. ‘Mushroom?’

She stared back at him in incomprehension for three beats, and then she chuckled. ‘Oops, marshmal ow. I meant to say marshmal ow. Baby brain, I tel you.’

He grinned. ‘Is this where I point out that hyenas don’t bray?’

‘Of course they do.’

She promptly gave her impression of a braying hyena and Alex almost fel out of his chair laughing.

‘That’s not a hyena, it’s a donkey!’

‘No, this is a donkey.’

When she gave her impression of a donkey, he lurched out of his chair to roar at ful -stretch on the ground. When he opened his eyes again he found himself staring up at an elderly lady.

Her lips twitched as she stepped over him on stil spry feet. ‘So kind of you to vacate your chair for me, young man.’

‘Hi, Grandma.’

Kit’s grandmother! Alex shot to his feet and did his best to dust himself off.

‘Alex, this is my grandmother, Patricia Rawlinson.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs Rawlinson.’

‘It’s Patti, dear.’

‘Grandma, this is Alex Hal am.’

‘Ahh…’ Those piercing amber eyes—so like Kit’s

—turned to him again. ‘So you’re Alex. I’ve heard al about you.’

She said it exactly the same way Caro had on his first morning here. The col ar of his polo shirt tightened around his throat. Was she going to threaten him with a meat cleaver too?

‘I hope you mean to do the right thing by my granddaughter and great-grandchild.’

‘I…um…’ Al the fun and laughter Kit had created in the garden bare minutes ago fled now. He had a in the garden bare minutes ago fled now. He had a feeling ‘doing right’ meant more than fixing Kit’s house up.

Those amber eyes gleamed and he didn’t trust them. He didn’t trust them any more than Caro’s spitfire green. ‘I’d eventual y like to see you make an honest woman of my granddaughter.’

‘Yeah, right.’ Kit snorted. ‘The way you let Granddad final y make an honest woman of you on Mum’s twenty-first birthday.’

‘I did say eventual y, dear.’

Kit’s

grandmother

hadn’t

married

Kit’s

grandfather til …

Both Kit and her grandmother laughed at whatever they saw in his face. ‘Relax, Alex,’ Kit ordered, her smile wide enough to ease some of the tension in his shoulders. The woman was a witch!

‘Grandma’s

just

teasing.’

She

tossed

her

grandmother an affectionate grin. ‘Behave, Gran.’

‘You young ones always want to spoil my fun.

Now, Kit, dear, can you explain those extraordinary noises you were making as I came around the side of the house?’

‘I was trying to show Alex the difference between a hyena’s bray and a donkey’s bray.’

‘Hyenas don’t bray, Kit, dear, they laugh. So, how did you get on?’

‘Only Alex can answer that.’

Two sets of identical eyes turned to him for confirmation. His lips final y twitched too. He found himself inclined to warm to Kit’s grandmother for knowing the difference between a laugh and a bray.

And for having eyes identical to Kit’s. ‘She got on perfectly.’

‘Excel ent.’

It struck him that when she’d been a younger woman, Patricia Rawlinson must’ve been very beautiful. She was stil striking now and she had to be at least seventy. Stil , his col ar remained tight around his neck. Hypothetical wal s threatened to close about him. He wanted out of this garden fast.

‘I’l …um…go put the jug on.’ No doubt they had loads to talk about. He edged towards the back door.

‘Hold on a moment, young Alex.’

He almost tripped up a back step. He couldn’t remember anyone ever cal ing him young Alex in his life.

‘I’d like to invite you both to a luncheon next weekend.’

Kit groaned. Alex’s eyebrow lifted. It wasn’t the reaction he’d have expected from her. Images of meat cleavers rose in his mind. Patti might know the difference between brays and laughs, but he’d bet she had a whole lot in common with Caro too.

‘What on earth is this one for?’ Kit asked. ‘And how much wil it cost me?’

‘This one is for breast cancer, dear. A gold coin donation is al that’s required. And I’d appreciate it if you could bring a plate.’

Kit’s eyes danced when they glanced at him. ‘Alex has been threatening to give me cooking lessons.’

‘Oh, darling, if he can cook, why bother learning?’

He’d have laughed if his col ar hadn’t pul ed so tight.

‘I’l definitely come to your luncheon. Alex wil have to be a maybe. It’l depend on whether any deliveries are scheduled for that day. We’ve had a couple of delays.’

His col ar promptly loosened. Kit had given him an out.

A new sick kind of nausea fil ed him then instead.

Maybe she didn’t want him to go to this luncheon.

Why on earth would she? He was going to let her down, wasn’t he? Maybe subconsciously she sensed that?

‘Can I ask Frank and Doreen along? And Caro?’

Of course she’d like to have her friends there. He rol ed his shoulders. Maybe she’d let him tag along too if he helped her bake a cake?

For Pete’s sake! It was only a stupid luncheon.

What did he want with one of those?

‘I saw Frank and Doreen out the front so I’ve invited them already. Caro and co are always welcome.’

Alex thrust himself through the back door, but not before he heard Patti ask, ‘Alex does mean to put your house back together, doesn’t he, dear?’