His Secretary's Nine-Month Notice (Mills & Boon Modern)

by Cathy Williams

  Violet wiped her perspiring hands on her jeans and busied herself making his cup of coffee, just the way he liked it. Black, no sugar. With her back to him, she was spared the piercing intensity of those deep-blue eyes, but she could still feel them boring into her.

  Like her, he was in casual clothes. Black jeans and a faded polo shirt and loafers. She’d seen him dressed down many times before. However, the fact that she was similarly dressed down was making her self-conscious and uncomfortable.

  ‘That’s not true,’ she said, eyes downcast as she pushed a cup of coffee towards him and then took up position on the chair at the farthest end of the kitchen table.

  She knew him well enough to know that his curiosity about her personal circumstances had not conveniently vanished into the ether. There just happened to be the more pressing matter of her resignation for him to contend with first, then he would return to the subject of where she lived.

  She quailed with apprehension, but her smile remained composed, her expression polite and tolerant, if a little puzzled.

  Just the sort of professional image she wanted to convey.

  ‘So you didn’t remember that I was supposed to be at the ballet...’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘I’m disappointed in you, Violet. I thought we were friends and yet, here you are, too scared to tell me to my face that you’re bailing on me.’

  ‘I work for you, Matt, that’s all,’ she countered and he shook his head sadly.

  ‘So do two hundred other employees who occupy the four storeys of that glass house, but none of them knows me as well as you do. Although...’ He paused. ‘If you’d known me well enough, you would have known that Clarissa and I were on the verge of breaking up. Going to the ballet with her was just one step too far.’

  ‘You’ve broken up with her?’ Violet felt a twinge of sympathy for the voluptuous, blond-haired, blue-eyed woman who might not be the sharpest knife in the block, but was bubbly, friendly and hardly deserving of the obligatory bunch of goodbye flowers that Violet would no doubt be asked to send in the next few days. If he didn’t react to her resignation by showing her the door with immediate effect.

  ‘Don’t look so shocked,’ Matt said drily. ‘You know my life is too busy for committed long-term relationships. Anyway, we’re going off-piste here. I came about that resignation email and I want to know why you’ve suddenly decided, out of the blue, that you’re fed up working for me. Is it the money? If it is, then you could simply have approached me and made your case for a pay rise.’

  Violet was momentarily distracted by her boss’s sweeping assumption that any relationship longer than five seconds qualified as committed and long-term.

  She blinked and focused on him. Her heart sped up and her pulse raced as their eyes tangled, deep-blue meeting guarded brown. She knew that she was blushing and she hated herself for not having the wherewithal to maintain an air of indifference and neutrality. At work, in her neat suit—grey jacket, white shirt, grey skirt, sensible black pumps—she was well protected from the lethal impact of his charm, but she wasn’t in her neat suit here.

  Nor was her brain playing ball. She should have remembered that someone like Matt, who was God’s gift to the opposite sex, went for a certain type of woman. Leggy, big-breasted, very, very blonde and with a line in conversation that always included the phrases ‘of course’, ‘sure’ and ‘whatever you want’. He definitely didn’t go for little five-foot-three sparrows with straight brown bobs, unremarkable features and slender, flat-chested bodies who stood their ground whatever the provocation.

  Why on earth had he descended on her like this? What gave him the right? It was unfair that he should be sitting in her kitchen, lounging back in one of her chairs and getting under her skin when she already had so much on her plate!

  ‘Of course it’s not the money,’ she said, swallowing some of her coffee and wincing because it was so hot. ‘And, yes, if I was unsatisfied with my pay then I wouldn’t resign, Matt. I would approach you to discuss it.’

  ‘So, if not the money, what then?’ he demanded forcefully. ‘You can’t say that the job lacks challenge. Hell, Violet, you’ve got more responsibility than any of the women who have ever worked for me in the past.’

  ‘That’s because none of them have stayed very long.’

  ‘Rubbish.’ He waved aside that riposte with a casual, dismissive gesture, keeping his eyes very firmly fixed on her face. ‘Admittedly, a number of them were short-lived, but none of them had what it took to cope with anything but the lightest of workloads.’

  Violet lowered her eyes and said nothing. When she’d joined, the personnel manager had been tearing his hair out.

  ‘It’s a difficult situation.’ He had all but groaned with frustration. ‘Matt is very...er...demanding... Lots of past candidates have found him impossible to work for. They’ve also mentioned that he makes them nervous. They’re perfectly capable when they enter the building, and they’ve all passed the series of interviews with flying colours, but ten minutes with him and their nerves are shredded...’

  She’d understood exactly what he’d meant the minute she’d spent five minutes in his company. Matt Falconer was brutally clever, horribly intolerant if you couldn’t keep up and so spectacularly good-looking that it was a wonder anyone had been able to work for him for longer than a day without having their brains scrambled.

  Thankfully, she was made of sterner stuff. Life had prepared her for just about anything, and she had dealt with her boss the way she had dealt with all the larger-than-life, crazily impulsive and wildly unpredictable people who had entered and left her life, thanks to her father. With equanimity, keeping to herself and protecting herself behind a wall of impenetrable calm.

  ‘If you want more responsibility,’ he growled, ‘then say so. I can give you a title...more work...varied projects. You name it.’

  ‘It’s not the work.’

  ‘Then what the hell is it?’ He narrowed his eyes and sat forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and staring at her until she wanted to squirm with discomfort. ‘Has someone been making life difficult for you?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Violet looked at him with genuine bewilderment.

  ‘Some of those guys who work with me can be a little overboisterous. Comes with the territory, I’m afraid. Working on computer apps and dealing with innovative start-up companies requires a different kind of personality to the stuffy sort who work in banks and insurance companies. There’s a chance you might be finding one of them impossible to deal with. Is that it? Give me a name and they get the sack. Instantly. Wait.’

  He paused and Violet was too confused by this sudden tangent to say anything. ‘Clients have been coming and going for the past few weeks with that new takeover. You know the one I mean... Food-app developer I’m in the process of buying out... Has one of them been pestering you? Is that it? I’ve noticed that that Draper boy has been lurking by your desk...’

  ‘Matt, I know how to take care of myself!’ Two bright patches of colour stained her cheeks.

  How pathetic did he think she was? So pathetic that she would resign from a job she loved because someone decided to chat her up?

  Suddenly, she was so angry that she wanted to slap him, so she balled her small hands into fists and counted to ten.

  She could feel the tension of the past few days simmering, boiling up, spilling over, and she had to bite down on the temptation to shout at him. She wasn’t the shouting sort. For a second, she wondered how he would react if his perennially unflappable PA decided to let rip.

  ‘Do you?’ he was asking quietly. ‘You’re quiet, Violet. Refined. Not the sort to give as good as she gets.’

  ‘I wish you could hear yourself, Matt Falconer,’ Violet responded, heading fast towards a flashpoint and only holding off by sheer willpower. ‘I’m not a complete idiot.’

/>   He had the grace to flush. ‘I never said that you were.’

  ‘The implication was there,’ Violet retorted scornfully, and she noted the startled expression on his face, because this was a side to her he hadn’t seen. ‘You think I’m such a weak fool that if someone says “boo”, then I’m going to go crying and running away because I just can’t handle it!’

  ‘Not at all,’ he muttered uncomfortably.

  ‘I’ll have you know that I have a great deal more backbone than you probably think!’

  ‘I’m sure you have.’

  ‘Then stop patronising me!’

  ‘Jesus, Violet. Where is this coming from? I only came here to find out what was going on!’ He raked his fingers through his hair and Violet gathered herself, but with difficulty.

  ‘I’ve handed in my notice, Matt, because something has cropped up, something unexpected, and I haven’t had a choice.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I know that my email was a bit...er...brief, but going into details would have been complicated. I had no idea you would pursue the matter.’

  ‘You thought that I would just sit back and let you walk out on me?’ Matt demanded incredulously, and Violet blushed, because the phrasing of those words was so unintentionally intimate.

  Good job you’re leaving! She mentally berated herself for all her negative thoughts involving voids opening up at the prospect of never going into that fast-paced, adrenaline-charged office ever again. Just remember how dangerous it is, having a stupid crush on your boss!

  ‘I’ll make sure I find a suitable replacement before I leave,’ she responded coolly. ‘I won’t leave you in the lurch.’

  ‘What if I decide that you’re irreplaceable?’

  Violet shrugged. She wished he would tailor his remarks, which were just making her even more addled and flustered, but naturally he wouldn’t because Matt Falconer never saw fit to tailor his words or his actions to suit anyone. He was a law unto himself. That was just how he liked it and, annoyingly, he got away with it because he was so over-the-top talented at what he did.

  ‘No one’s irreplaceable.’

  ‘You say that you didn’t have a choice,’ he thought aloud, his expression clearing. He sat forward so abruptly that she blinked in sudden confusion. ‘You’re pregnant, aren’t you? I’m very progressive when it comes to things like that, but is he a dinosaur? Is that it? Someone with a value system that’s still buried in the Middle Ages? It would be a travesty for some guy to think that a pregnant woman equates to a stay-at-home partner.’

  Deep-blue eyes darted down to her stomach and, horrified, Violet instinctively rested her hand on her tummy. ‘Who is he, Violet, and how is it that I don’t know a thing about him? Isn’t that taking secrecy to the very limit?’ He shot her an accusatory look from under thick, sooty lashes. ‘And tell me that you’re enough of a feminist to know that you don’t jack a great job in because some guy with antiquated expectations suggests that you do.’

  Suddenly restless, he vaulted upright and walked in jerky movements to the kitchen window, staring out for a few seconds before spinning round to glare at her, clearly offended.

  ‘We no longer live in the Dark Ages,’ he carried on, leaving her speechless at his wild conclusions. ‘And you should know that I am more than considerate when it comes to taking care of my staff, including the ones who have babies. Is there or is there not a crèche available, expertly manned by fully trained staff, on the eighth floor?’

  ‘Yes, but...’

  ‘We’ve long left behind those bad old days of gender inequality.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with being a stay-at-home mum!’ Violet was distracted enough to retort.

  Frankly, she could think of nothing more wonderful, but she wasn’t going to become diverted by this non-issue. How on earth could someone with such an incredibly sharp brain be so...dense?

  ‘You’re not wearing a ring,’ he commented sharply. ‘Baby out of wedlock, Violet? Not what I would have expected, but then it’s very obvious that you’ve been keeping all sorts of things from me. I’m beginning to wonder whether I knew you at all! Naturally, you never gave anything away, but I thought I knew the kind of person you were. Hasn’t the man had the decency to propose to you, or has he done a runner?’

  He shook his head in disgust while Violet did her best to keep up, even though her brain was lagging several light years behind. ‘Or maybe he’s married. Is that it? Did you get yourself embroiled in some kind of sordid situation that’s ended up leading to this? You should have come to me for advice, Violet. I would have been there for you.’

  Violet stared at him with undisguised incredulity. She was so astounded that she could barely think straight.

  ‘A married man? A sordid affair? And, Matt Falconer, not that it has ever been necessary, but why on earth would I ever contemplate coming to you for advice?’

  Matt frowned. ‘Because I’m a man of the world,’ he said in a voice that implied that he was doing nothing more than stating the obvious.

  ‘You’re also a man who has never had a relationship that’s lasted longer than three months!’ she was riled into retorting, betraying her code of never losing her cool with her boss. Naturally, instead of being annoyed with her outburst, he stared at her with the expression of a man suddenly intrigued.

  She had half risen from her chair through sheer frustration, and now he slowly strolled towards her.

  Mesmerised against her will, Violet could only stare right back at him as he drew closer until he was standing right in front of her, at which point she sank back into the chair, trembling all over and angry with herself for letting the situation get so completely out of hand.

  ‘This is ridiculous!’ she exclaimed, watching warily as he dragged a chair across so that he was sitting far too close to her for comfort’s sake.

  ‘I know. It is. So why don’t you just take back your resignation and we’ll pretend none of this ever happened?’ He looked at her narrowly and suddenly, inexplicably, found his imagination start to wander because there was something oddly fetching about her flushed face, parted lips and angry eyes. He frowned and blinked away that sudden drag on his senses.

  ‘I haven’t resigned because I want a pay rise.’ She tabulated each point carefully and slowly. ‘Nor is it because I want more responsibility. If you had read what I said in my email, you’d have noted that I was extremely complimentary about my experience of working for your company—’

  ‘You sound like a cheap brochure when you say that,’ Matt interrupted.

  Violet bristled. Not only had he interrupted, but he was so damned close that his knees were touching hers and it was hellishly impossible to focus properly.

  ‘Nor,’ she continued through gritted teeth, ‘has anyone been pestering me on the work front, and if John Draper happened to ask me out on a date, then that is none of your business!’

  ‘I knew that guy was lurking round your desk for no good reason.’ Matt scowled and Violet wanted to hit him.

  ‘And more to the point, Matt Falconer, I have not been having an affair with anyone! I am not pregnant and I certainly could never be attracted to anyone who thought that it might be okay to lay down ground rules about a woman’s place. That is not why I have had to tender my resignation!’

  ‘That’s good.’ He was visibly relieved by that assertion and Violet glared at him. He was just so selfish, she thought waspishly. All he cared about was whether he could get a saint who would be able to cope with his unpredictable, demanding personality! She couldn’t believe that she had actually been idiotic enough to have fallen for the guy! Thank God she was savvy enough to know how to contain her inappropriate reaction. Thank God lusting from afar was a curable sickness, and cured she would be as soon as she left his employ.

  ‘So, tell me what this nonsense is all about.’ He relaxed back and gazed at her, and she just couldn’t
help drinking in his insane good looks, at least for a second, until she blinked herself back to reality.

  She sighed and surrendered.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘IT’S MY FATHER,’ she said quietly, and he stared at her as though she had suddenly started speaking in tongues.

  ‘You have a father?’

  ‘Yes, Matt. I have a father. People do. These things happen.’

  He grinned and shifted, angling his chair so that he could stretch his legs out in front of him. ‘I would say that I would miss your sarcasm, but I won’t, because if this is a simple case of parental problems then I’m sure we’ll be able to work around it.’

  ‘I’m not sarcastic,’ Violet told him politely, and his eyebrows shot up.

  ‘You’ve made more sarcastic remarks about the women I date than I’ve had hot dinners.’

  Had she? She’d always thought that she was scrupulously non-committal when it came to the blondes who entered and left his life through an ever-revolving door.

  ‘Remember asking me if I’d ever thought of dating women who didn’t get worked up about going on spa breaks? Or the time you said that it wasn’t true that blondes had more fun? And let’s not forget some of your unnecessary asides about my tokens of affection when a relationship has, sadly, run its course...’

  ‘Tokens of affection?’ Violet retorted. ‘I honestly don’t think that expensive bouquets of flowers from the same expensive flower shop in Knightsbridge could be called “tokens of affection.”’

  ‘I’ve given far more than flowers in the past.’

  ‘When it comes to a break-up, there’s no such thing as a token of affection.’

  ‘Which, anyway, is just my arrogant way of appeasing my conscience.’

  ‘You said it,’ Violet muttered. ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘Actually, you did,’ Matt returned without batting an eyelid. ‘More than once although, admittedly, in various guises. Same message, however. Most people think twice when it comes to letting their opinions go into free fall when they’re with me, but you have never been reticent when it comes to saying what you think about my personal life. In your own quiet way, of course. So what’s the problem with your father?’