What a hypocrite he was. Pretending he had the kids’ interests at heart. For some reason he wanted to come home for Christmas. Alexandra was probably going to London. She usually went for Christmas. Well, he needn’t think he was going to use her. He could go and spend Christmas on his own. Or with his toffee-nosed mother. She was damned if he was going to slither back just because it suited him.
She picked up the phone. She’d told Chris she wasn’t going to be at home for Christmas. That had just popped out. But now that she’d said it, she’d better do something about it. Her friend Niamh in Wicklow had suggested she spend Christmas with her and her two children. That was precisely what she was going to do, Suzy decided. Chris could like it or lump it. She wasn’t going to let him manipulate her ever again.
Chris sat doodling at his desk. Suzy was downright vicious. She hadn’t softened her line at all. He had to admit she’d surprised him. He’d been sure that she’d never stick being in the house alone with the kids. He’d expected that after a while, when she’d got over the shock of it, when she’d got some of the anger out of her system, she’d cool down and consider letting him come home. Instead she seemed to be coping, and to heap coals on the fire she was even going away for Christmas.
Everyone was going away, he scowled, feeling immensely sorry for himself. No one wanted to be with him. He stared out the window. It was snowing. Great swirling white flakes blotting out the view.
This had been the worst year of his life. Why had he got involved with Alexandra in the first place? It was too close to home and he was paying the price for it now. It was all Ellen’s fault. If she hadn’t rejected him, he’d never have turned to Alexandra and he wouldn’tbeinthisgod-awfulmess.Thingslookedas if they weren’t going to get any better. What away to start a new decade. He flung down his pen and picked up his diary. One of his clients, Jilly Fleming, was a sexy-looking bird with legs that went on and on. She fancied him too. She was always giving him come-hither looks and making suggestive remarks. She was married to a much older man. Chris got the impression he wasn’t too effective in the sack. Maybe she was free for lunch. He needed cheering up. Jilly would do fine. Chris picked up the phone and dialled the number.
It was a beautiful dress. Black, slinky, with a square neckline that suggested just the tiniest bit of cleavage. Alexandra didn’t believe in being obvious. Plunging necklines were not her style. A hint of bosom was far more erotic than acres of flesh. Mystery, teasing and tantalising were what it was all about. She was an expert, Alexandra thought confidently as she surveyed her reflection in the full-length mirror in her bedroom.
She’d left the office early to come home and change. She was going to tell Marcus she had a cocktail party to go to later in the evening . . . if he made any comment about her dress. Slowly she eased a sheer silk black stocking up her shapely leg and fastened her suspender. If all went well, Marcus would unfasten it and stroke his tanned fingers along the inside of her thigh. She shivered at the thought of it. Her nipples hardened. She was aroused just thinking about it.
She smiled languidly at herself in the mirror. Her hair fell in loose soft curls around her face. Her make-up was subtle. Her peach lipstick made her mouth look very kissable. Would he be able to resist her?
She didn’t think so.
Her life was going to change completely. She’d wipe the dust of Stuart and Stuart’s off her feet so fast it would leave them breathless. She’d be rich and envied, and she’d be having the most fantastic sex of her entire life. She just knew it. She slid her fur coat around her shoulders, picked up her handbag and set out on the seduction of Marcus Lynn.
‘Luigi’s? I don’t know it, do you?’ Marcus Lynn slapped some aftershave on his jaws, combed his hair and emerged from the washroom into his large airy office overlooking Stephen’s Green. Maggie, his secretary, shook her head.
‘Miss Johnston said it’s new. It’s Italian but it’s only a five-minute walk for you. That was one of the reasons she chose it.’
‘That was thoughtful. I’m hungry.’ He grinned wolfishly.
‘You always are,’ Maggie retorted. ‘If it’s nice, you can bring me there for my Christmas lunch.’
‘You’re on. Be good! See you later.’ Marcus raised a hand in farewell as he strode out of the office in his usual panther-like way. He liked Alexandra Johnston. She was forthright, intelligent and highly entertaining. Alexandra had the saltiest tongue of any woman he knew. She didn’t hold back. Her acerbic comments made him laugh. No one was safe. But she was excellent at her job. She’d a real eye for marketing and knowing what was in fashion. Marcus valued her judgement. He was looking forward to seeing this new plan she’d come up with. And he was looking forward to lunch.
‘This was a surprise, Chris,’ Jilly murmured as Chris filled her wineglass for the third time.
‘I generally bring valued clients to lunch around Christmas-time. I’m sorry for the short notice. I’ve been up to my eyes but I really wanted to do this and today is one of the few days I have free.’ Chris held her gaze.
‘Lucky I was free too.’ Jilly stared seductively back.
‘How’s Louis?’ Chris asked. Louis was the unsatisfactory husband.
‘You know Louis, always whingeing about something. He’s away on business.’ Jilly slid her hand across the table and rested it lightly on his.
‘When will he be back?’
‘The weekend.’ Jilly slipped her foot out of her shoe and slid it along his calf and then up along his inner thigh until it reached his crotch. She pressed gently until she felt him harden.
‘Let’s give ourselves a Christmas treat,’ Chris whispered huskily as he stroked her foot with his hand and pressed it against him even closer.
‘Oohh yesss, let’s,’ Jilly breathed. The thought of doing it with a virile attractive man was nearly enough to make her come there and then.
With indecent haste, Chris paid the bill, ushered Jilly out to his car, and drove at speed to her luxury detached house in Ballsbridge. Minutes later they were wrapped around each other on the cream shag-pile carpet of Jilly’s luxurious lounge.
‘Do it to me, do it to me,’ Jilly groaned with pleasure at this rare treat. Louis usually disintegrated after ten seconds. Chris considerately obliged.
The skies darkened. The snow fell silently as they enjoyed every second of their Christmas bonus.
‘I’ve ordered for both of us,’ Alexandra announced coolly.
‘Have you now?’ Marcus grinned.
‘I know you of old, Lynn. You’re still a peasant at heart. Left to your own devices you’d have bacon and cabbage every day.’
‘I happen to like bacon and cabbage. I was reared on it, I’ll have you know.’
‘Just for once in your life, do what you’re told and trust me.’ Alexandra smiled into her companion’s dark eyes. Marcus looked as dishy as ever. He didn’t even realise how sexy he was. That made him all the more attractive.
‘I’m all yours. What have you ordered?’ He held out his hand for the menu.
‘Parma ham, olives and grissini. Minestrone soup. Piccata alla milanese with risotto. And zabaglione for dessert if you’re a good boy.’ Alexandra grinned.
‘It’s far from zabaglione I was reared.’ Marcus sat back in his chair and looked at her.
‘You’re all dressed up. You look very posh.’
‘I’ve something else on later. I hope you don’t mind.’
‘You could dress up in a sack and you’d look good in it, Alexandra. Of course I don’t mind. Now, tell me all the news . . .’
They talked and laughed and exchanged ideas over a thoroughly enjoyable meal and when it was over Marcus raised his glass to her approvingly. ‘That was delicious, Alexandra. The veal was melt-in-the-mouth. And that mushroom and cream sauce . . .’
‘See! I was right. Trust me. I know what’s best for you. I’m glad you enjoyed it, Marcus. I thought this would be handy for you. And it’s nice and cosy. The Burlington is so . . . so busine
ss-lunchy,’ Alexandra said lightly. ‘Come on now, do have a brandy. I insist.’
‘Good Lord, woman! I’ve a stack of work to do when I get back to the office,’ Marcus laughed.
Alexandra laughed back at him. The man was so sexy. The way he said ‘woman’ in that deep delicious voice made her quiver. She loved his accent. A West of Ireland lilt that years in the city hadn’t erased. It was divine and he was drop-dead gorgeous.
‘Marcus, never turn down a brandy when Stuart and Stuart’s are paying. Just think of the pleasure you’re giving Ron Evans,’ she said wickedly.
Marcus grinned, baring even white teeth. ‘In that case I’d love one. Far be it from me to deprive Ron of his pleasure.’
‘You know,’ she said slowly, ‘it’s so frustrating having someone like Ron stepping on your toes every time you try and introduce something new. Malachy and he are so cautious. I’d really love to set up on my own. I’d like to hire my own team. I know I could make a go of it,’ she confided, her eyes wide and guileless.
‘You’d make a great job of it, Alexandra. You’re terrific at what you do. That plan you’ve come up with is pretty slick.’
‘Thank you, Marcus.’ Alexandra let her hand rest lightly on his hand. ‘I really appreciate that.’
‘It’s true. You’re good.’ Marcus shrugged. In the dim light of the small intimate restaurant his brown eyes glittered almost black.
‘I’m the best.’ Alexandra arched an eyebrow.
This was it, she decided. She was sure he was receptive. They’d had a delightful lunch. The best ever. They clicked so well and always had. He had to like her as much as she liked him.
‘Marcus, work isn’t the only thing I’m good at,’ she murmured, leaning closer so that she was staring into his eyes. ‘Do you know what I’m saying?’
Marcus looked at her in shock and eased away. ‘Alexandra, I think we’ll forgo the brandy. Maybe we should get back to work.’ She froze. She’d misjudged the signals he was sending. This was a disaster.
‘Are you sure?’ she asked in amazement.
‘Alexandra, let me put it like this, so there’s no mistake,’ Marcus said quietly, a troubled expression darkening his eyes. ‘I like you a lot but I’m in a relationship as you know. And I’m committed to the woman I love. I don’t two-time.’
‘I see. Pardon me, Marcus, I made a bad judgement.’ Alexandra’s voice shook with humiliation.
‘Thanks for lunch, I’ll be in touch.’ He stood up and nodded down at her, his expression unreadable.
She smiled weakly. ‘Fine.’ She watched him leave and wanted to weep. All her dreams went out the door with him. She’d made a dreadful fool of herself. She was losing her touch. And she’d never be able to look him in the eye again.
Heavy-hearted, she paid the bill and hailed a taxi. To hell with the office. She wasn’t going back there. It was snowing heavily and it was bitterly cold. She had the beginnings of a thumping headache. The only place she was going was to bed, alone. It was one of the lowest moments of her life.
Later that evening Chris phoned to say he was going to a Christmas booze-up and was staying in a friend’s house. Alexandra was just as glad. She wanted to be alone to wallow in her depression.
The following morning she dragged herself into work. But she really didn’t want to be there. Marcus’s humiliating rejection of her stung. She’d been awake all night thinking about it. What a fool she’d made of herself. No man had ever flatly turned her down as he had. Was she really losing it? Was her sex appeal letting her down? That was the most frightening thought she’d ever entertained. Suddenly her options seemed to be shrinking rapidly.
Don’t think about it! Alexandra nibbled the tip of her pen as she read through a marketing strategy she’d prepared for a new client. It was hard to concentrate. And that was most unlike her. Usually she was very focused on whatever project she was working on.
At ten-forty-five Peggy phoned. ‘Mr MacDonald would like to see you at eleven in his office,’ she said crisply.
‘Very well,’ Alexandra snapped. What did he want? She really wasn’t in the mood for Malachy. He was getting short shrift from her today whether he liked it or not.
At ten-fifty-five she left her office and walked along the carpeted corridor towards Malachy’s room. As she passed the accounts department, Ron poked his head out first as he usually did when emerging from his office. He reminded her of a snake the way he slithered around the offices. Alexandra eyed him coldly. His face broke into a sly knowing grin when he saw her.
‘Aahh, Alexandra, off to see the boss? Well, good luck.’
‘Sorry?’ she clipped. Why was the little weasel wishing her good luck?
‘Aahh! You don’t know, then. I’m sure Malachy will tell you all about it.’ He smiled insincerely but his reptilian little eyes were hard and cold.
What the hell was he talking about? He obviously knew something that she didn’t. But snowballs would roast in hell before she’d ask him. Alexandra felt a tremor of unease. Ron enjoyed power games. He liked bossing the clerical staff around. He could get away with that but it was unusual for him to try it on with her. He was extremely wary of her. Alexandra despised him. At heart he was a coward. He practically had a shit attack if Malachy said boo to him.
‘Ron,’ she said crisply, ‘I don’t have time to stand here yapping. I’ve a lot of work to do, if you don’t. Excuse me.’ She swept past.
Ron’s air of self-importance deflated.
‘Bitch,’ he muttered. How he’d love to be a fly on the wall at the meeting between her and Malachy. That stuck-up cow wouldn’t be so stuck-up very shortly, if only she knew it.
Alexandra, a little thrown by the encounter, rapped smartly on Malachy’s door.
‘Come in,’ her boss invited.
Alexandra opened the door and marched into the office. ‘Malachy, I’m really up to my eyes,’ she insisted as she shut the door and came to stand in front of his mahogany desk.
Malachy studied her from behind his silver-rimmed glasses. He was looking particularly natty today, Alexandra thought in wry amusement as she noted the red carnation in the buttonhole of his cream jacket and the burgundy handkerchief decorating his breast pocket. Dressed to impress! Obviously he was taking a woman to lunch. Malachy always dressed to the nines on such occasions. He loved playing his role of powerful business executive to the hilt.
‘Sit down, Alexandra. This is rather difficult.’ Malachy’s watery blue eyes were less than friendly. The avuncular, good-humoured façade he usually sported, gone.
Alexandra sat down feeling suddenly shaky. What was all this about? She’d seen Malachy turn on people many times. Especially at strategy meetings when he’d eff and blind and rant and rave if he wasn’t getting his own way. He was an outrageous bully. But it had never been directed at her. Malachy steepled his fingers and rested his chin on their tips. He had a weak chin. She’d never noticed that before, she thought a little wildly.
Alexandra took a deep breath. It was always best to be in control.
‘What’s the problem, Malachy?’
‘I’m afraid, my dear, you are.’ The coldness in his voice chilled her. Malachy had never been anything other than charming to her until now.
‘I beg your pardon!’
‘I’m sorry but I must ask for your resignation. Marcus Lynn has asked that someone else handle his account. And, on top of the same request from Victor Conway, I really feel that – unfortunately – the time has come for us to part company. I cannot take the risk of losing clients.’ He slid an envelope across the table to her.
‘An excellent reference and a more than generous cheque to keep you going until you find another position,’ he said smoothly.
Alexandra picked up the envelope and stared at it. ‘You’re joking!’
‘Indeed, anything but. I’m sorry, Alexandra. You’re very good at your job but we expect a certain standard from our employees. And discretion in their private lives. I can’t kee
p you on. It’s too high a price to pay.’
Too high a price to pay! She couldn’t believe her ears. She was being sacked. He could say he was asking for her resignation but the reality was that she was getting the boot.
She jumped to her feet.
‘You can’t do this to me, Malachy. You owe me. I brought big clients with me when I moved from Weldon’s. I raised your profile out there, buster. And don’t you dare speak to me about standards, you gutless little creep. You wouldn’t know what a standard was if it slapped you in your smug mush. You, who haven’t an ounce of honour or integrity, talk about standards. Ha! You that people don’t have a good word for. You that rip people off left, right and centre . . . Don’t make me sick, Malachy MacDonald. Your hypocrisy stinks! Standards indeed. That’s the best one I’ve heard in years. Let me tell you something.’ She pointed a finger aggressively under his nose. ‘This was a Mickey Mouse company for years because you and that miser, Ron Evans, were making a balls of it. The sloppiness, the inefficiency, the lack of vision . . . I could go on and on. You haven’t got a clue—’
‘I resent this. I deeply object to your accusations,’ Malachy blustered, banging his hand on the desk. ‘This is a reputable company, and my business ethics are above reproach. I think you’d better go.’
‘Business ethics!’ Alexandra snorted ‘You’re hilarious, Malachy. You can kid yourself all you like but you know, and I know, that no one out there respects you. The things I’ve heard said about you would curl your hair if you had enough of it,’ she added insultingly. ‘And I won’t be playing happy families, believe me. I gave you my loyalty but you showed me none. I’m just a commodity to you. Well, let me tell you, you miserable little shit, I’ll bad-mouth you every chance I get. You’re going to get everything you deserve and more. And you know something?’ She glared at him, her eyes dripping scorn. ‘That carnation makes you look an even bigger idiot than you are.’
Malachy’s jaw dropped in horror. His vanity was enormous. That last slur was even more offensive than the one to his business reputation. That one hurt.
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