“I won’t argue. We could all do with a day to sleep in. Frankly, I’m exhausted.” She wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck, and Oswald had a snapshot of what he wanted in his life.
A relationship like Court and Randi’s. A woman who was loving and not afraid to show affection. It was a miracle these two had found each other after twenty-two years apart. Maybe there was one more miracle up God’s sleeve, one that ensured Oswald found such a woman for himself.
The fact that such a woman already existed twisted his guts. The very daughter of these two people had been raised in a home filled with love, despite the separation. It showed in her very nature. One that could easily be taken advantage of. How he’d love to be the one to protect her from the harsh realities of the world.
A wonderful dream. One that could never come to fruition.
“Hey, Oswald, I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Randi turned her attention on him. “Who was that woman Paul brought today? I met her, Deirdre somebody, but I have no idea who she is.”
“Good question,” Court said. “I mean, I know who she is, but why was she here today? And why was she with Paul?”
Randi looked at Court. “You know her?”
“Sure, she’s one of the socialites. Has a regular posse of men she calls on to escort her various places. Oswald has been seen in her company a fair bit.”
“Okay… But that doesn’t really answer my question. Why was she here today?”
Oswald cleared his throat. “I’m afraid that was my fault. She was under the impression I promised to bring her as my date, but between last night and leaving this morning, I forgot to call it off.” He shrugged. “She’s a bit furious with me over that. I guess she saw the wedding announcement in the morning paper, figured I’d stood her up, decided she wasn’t going to settle for that, called Paul just before he left, and so here she was. I apologize. I didn’t really want her here, but I never should have ignored her that way. I know what she’s capable of when she’s displeased with an individual.”
Court’s brow rose. “I didn’t realize you two were so close.”
Oswald shook his head. “It’s not a matter of being close. It’s a matter of me not kowtowing to her demands. I’ll pay for it.”
“I just hope Birdie doesn’t get in the middle of your payback. I saw that woman glaring at her more than once this afternoon.” Randi’s frown wasn’t something Oswald saw often. In fact, other than teasing, he didn’t think he’d ever seen her scowl in such a manner.
“I’ll do my best to keep Courtney far away from her. However, between now and the holidays we’ll attend many of the same charity events. As Courtney is coming up in the company, it will only make sense for her to attend, and I’ll be the one best suited to escort her, for several reasons. At least initially. One, to introduce her in the right circles, and two, because of my connections and temporary position with the company while you two are traveling about. Three, I know the players from many years interaction and observation. I can steer her toward the people who will do the company the most good. From there she may meet someone else who would make an appropriate escort.” Or not. In fact, he could not think of one man who would do a good job. Possibly Hammond. He was harmless enough by all accounts.
“All true, I suppose,” Randi murmured. “But also because we trust you to look out for her.” The smile she sent him was about as brilliant as any he’d ever seen.
“Yes, you can trust me to keep her safe. I won’t court her, merely provide escort. I know that role well enough.”
“Won’t bother me if you do court her…as long as your intentions are honorable,” Court said. “Don’t toy with her heart if you don’t mean to capture it.”
Oswald blinked. “I’d never…”
“Oh you’re a right proper gentlemen,” Court cut him off. “You’ll do everything by the book of etiquette. However, if you fall for her, and I doubt there’s much you can do if she falls for you, do it for real. Otherwise, I know you’ll keep your hands to yourself.”
Not a topic of conversation he wanted to have. Not now, not ever. “I assure you, your daughter is safe with me. I won’t touch her, nor will I allow her to get hooked up with someone who only wants to play. She deserves so much more than that. She certainly deserves a man far better than me.”
“I seriously doubt there are many men better than you, Oswald.” Randi narrowed her gaze on him. “In fact, I bet your intentions, whether you want to marry her or not, are far and away purer than any other man in London. Your reputation as a gentleman is impeccable.” She nodded at his look of disbelief. “You’re a very good man, Oswald. We’d be proud to have you officially in the family. You’re halfway there already.” She unwound her arms from around her husband’s neck and stood. “Well, now you know how we feel. We won’t meddle…very much.” Her green eyes twinkled, a look that sent a spear of true fear through Oswald’s gut. “We expect you for dinner whenever you can make it, just like this last year, but we won’t push.”
Unable to think of a reply, he merely stared at the tiny woman standing over him. Smiling, she shook her head, bent to kiss his cheek, then turned to her husband.
“Time for bed, honey bunches.” She held out a hand to Court, and he accepted her invitation.
Oswald finally found his voice. “I have no intention of marrying. Ever.”
At the foot of the stairs, Randi looked back at him. “That’s a real shame. You owe it to the world to pass on your superior genes, don’t you think?”
Court’s hand landed on her bottom. “Impertinent chook. Leave the boy alone. If he doesn’t figure it out soon for himself, I’m sure Birdie will, and then he’ll be toast.”
Toast.
Oswald shook his head and reached for the champagne bottle. Not a one of them seemed to understand. They were all mad as hatters.
Chapter 11
Tuesday morning Birdie straightened her skirt as she rode the elevator up to her father’s office suite with him beside her. His company owned the twenty story building, but only occupied five floors. The top five floors, and the penthouse was their destination. On the far side of the floor from the executive suites, the Human Resources department could be found. No problem. She’d been there before and had met with Danielle Richards, the VP of the section. But her father insisted on escorting her there.
As befitted a new hire in an office environment, Birdie had dressed with care. A skirt neither too tight nor too short in gray gabardine was topped by a silk shell and crocheted cotton sweater, both in a soft sunny yellow. As her legs were still tanned, she’d skipped the pantyhose and wore sensible flats. She was tall enough she didn’t need to emphasize her height when she already knew some of the older men and women she’d be working with were her height or shorter. Nothing here to scream out her status as the boss’s daughter. It was a good outfit for her first day, although knowing she’d be in the mailroom, she had a selection of gabardine slacks and cotton shirts hanging in her wardrobe. Drew had already warned her she’d see some action that might get her fancy clothes mussed by the end of most days.
“You don’t have to walk me to Ms. Richards’ office, Dad.”
“It’s not like I got to see you off on your first day of school. I guess this is my one and only chance to make up for that bit of absenteeism.”
She had no answer for that. The twinge of guilt she felt wasn’t really hers to feel. The little smile she gave him was answered with one very like her own.
“Nervous?”
“No.”
He met her denial with one of those raised brow looks.
“Not really. Maybe a little.” With a touch of chagrin she admitted a bit of what she felt. Sure wasn’t going to admit to the Air Forced sized butterflies acting like a bombing raid in her stomach.
“I mean, I’ve had jobs before, so that part is no big deal. This is a career. The next step up.”
Dad nodded. “Makes sense to me.”
/> “All you have to do is ignore me. I’m not riding on your coattails, right?” She hitched the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder and narrowed her eyes on her father.
“I won’t show you undue preference.” He lifted his hand with three fingers up. “Scout’s honor.”
“Were you ever a Boy Scout?”
He laughed. “No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“I do have to tell you, there might be a mild amount of fun at your expense. Most employees experience it, particularly in the mailroom or amongst the junior clerks. If it veers into hazing, I expect you to report it. If not to me, then to Danielle directly.”
The seriousness on his face made her stomach clench just a little. “I can handle teasing.”
“I know you can. It’s just…” The elevator dinged open on their floor.
“It’s just, what?” she asked as he guided her with a gentle hand on her lower back. At her own glance with raised brow he dropped his hand.
“Drew dealt with some,” he said quietly, walking close enough those in the cubicles wouldn’t hear, “but since he’d been in and out of the office from a young age, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Maybe slightly more pointed than for others, but he handled it well. The difference is you’re female, and a very new face, or rather concept around here. I’ve made no secret of my daughter, but I have no idea how the employees will react. Most will be respectful, if a little distant. Some might use you to express some latent discontent at their lot. I have no way of predicting or heading off such reactions.”
They stopped in front of Danielle’s door. “Just be careful, smile a lot, and don’t try to change the world your first day here.”
Birdie gave him her most confident smile. “I’ll be good. I’ll listen more than I speak and ask intelligent questions. Hey, I even brought cookies for the mailroom staff.” A pat on the side of her overlarge shoulder bag produced a slight drum sound.
Dad laughed. “Good start. Old Dennis likes his sweets.” He rapped two knuckles on Danielle’s door and opened it when she called for them to enter.
A woman not much older than her father rose from behind a desk with a view of London behind her. “Good morning, Court. Ms. Ferguson.” Hair that had once been penny bright was a soft shade of auburn now. Mom had told her about meeting Danielle years ago. She maintained a slender figure and wore an outfit not that much different than Birdie’s, only her navy skirt and pale blue blouse were both silk, and her tastefully moderate navy pumps had a three inch heel that made her legs look great even if her ankles were a little thick. Middle-aged, but making it look good with pale skin and few lines.
“So happy you’ve joined us.”
“Ready to take on the next Robinson?” Dad asked.
Danielle managed to look down her nose at him despite his six inches of height on her. “I’ve taken on a couple of Robinsons when they were barely out of short pants. One barely out of nappies. Since women are generally smarter and easier to work with, a grown up one should be a breeze.”
It was easy to smile at the wink Danielle gave her. Dad laughed. “I guess I’ve been put in my place once again. Well, since I had to swear on my father’s grave that I wouldn’t follow her around snapping pics of her first day of school, as it were, I’d better take myself off to my cushy office chair and leave it to you ladies to plot how to run the company.”
“Ah, I always said you were one of the smarter ones.” Danielle patted his arm. “Off with you now. She’s a big girl, and I’m sure is more than capable of getting along.”
Feeling saucy, Birdie gave a slight curtsy of the variety her grandmother had taught her. “Thank you for the escort, Mr. Robinson. I’ll see you at home at the end of the day.”
Dad rolled his eyes. “Memo to self, tell the wife to cut back on viewing period dramas. Come hunt me up at the end of the day, and we’ll walk back together.”
“I’m a big—”
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Humor me.”
“All right. If I must.” While she rolled her eyes, he chucked her under the chin, then strolled out of the office.
“Nice little family scene there.” A wide smile negated the rebuke. “He’s a good man, but he’s also a father and fully entitled to worry. We’ll make sure there’s nothing for him to worry about.”
Couldn’t help but agree with that, so Birdie nodded. “What’s first?”
“Paperwork, what else?”
Paperwork, then viewing the new hire video on company policies filled the hours until noon. Danielle invited Birdie to join her and her assistant, Anita, for lunch. The café at street level did a lively business at the noon hour, but they also made an excellent chicken sandwich and latte. The latter was definitely needed to give her some pep for the afternoon. Jet lag and party lag still tugged at Birdie’s energy, not that anyone other than her family would notice, but she felt it.
Anita, a blonde woman in her thirties, happily married and a little pudgy from her last pregnancy, she said as she patted her stomach, was friendly enough Birdie felt she had passed the first round of meeting new people.
A short time later, she had to reevaluate that thought when Danielle showed her the way to first the locker room where she could lock up her purse or anything else in the line of personal belongings. Next stop was the actual mailroom at the back of the ground floor.
“We process the mail for the entire building here. Each company sends down their own mail clerk to help with the sorting, then they take the mail for their company and distribute it. We found it far more efficient than letting the postal service do the distribution. But we’re in charge of it.” She pushed open a door into an anteroom where she had Birdie swipe her brand new employee badge for the set of double doors.
Inside, what first looked like pure chaos, resolved itself into controlled chaos upon a few moments of observation.
“Dennis is stationed at the back wall where the mail is delivered by a truck each morning, and again at noon the bigger packages arrive. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to explain it all to you.” It took five minutes to cross the room, dodging the dozen or more people loading trays of letters onto carts with different company names on them. It also helped the carts were a different color, coded by company or floor, Birdie guessed when she saw floor numbers also noted.
“Remember, over here the first floor is your second floor,” Danielle said.
“And ground floor is my first floor. Got it.”
“Exactly. You’ll have even more fun converting from American to British in addition to learning the routes.”
“No problem. I’ve had some practice.”
The nod of approval from the older woman was welcome. And with that they stood before a dais of about twelve inches with a large desk on it. Behind the desk sat a man who looked as gnarled as a hundred-year-old oak tree. He was lean with a hooked nose on his heavily wrinkled face.
“Who you got there, young lady? This the worker who was supposed to show up yesterday?” Faded disapproving brown eyes peered over half-moon reading glasses, and Birdie sensed he found her wanting.
“Family situation, Dennis. This is Courtney Ferguson-Robinson. Courtney, Mr. Redford, until he gives you leave to call him Dennis.”
“Hello, sir.” She gave him a friendly smile and held up the box of chocolate chip cookies she’d dug up from her bag in the locker room. “Had occasion to bake last night and thought you might like a sweet to go with your afternoon tea.”
He took the box, all while peering at her suspiciously. “American? And escorted down by the head of hiring. Now there’s switch. Going to be twice as hard to train you.” He rattled the cookie box. “These any good?”
Holding her smile in place, Birdie restrained herself from wincing at the treatment of the cookies. “Chocolate chip. I’ve always called them cookies, but you could call them biscuits. Although I might have to bring in some hot buttery biscuits
someday.”
Dennis narrowed his eyes at her. “You being cheeky, missy?”
“Not unless you like cheeky misses, sir.”
Dennis rolled his eyes. “Not only does she look like ’em, she acts like ’em. Fine. Ms. Richards, ye’ve done yer duty. I’ll take it from ’ere.”
Danielle nodded first at Dennis, then Birdie. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Thank you.”
The first thing Dennis did was yell to a young man about ten feet to his left. He was tall, lanky, and had thick dark hair that fell over his face, probably to partially hide the red spots on his face and neck. He looked about eighteen. “Oi! Freddie, boy, ’ere’s your shadow for the rest o’ the week.” Dennis looked at his watch. “Aren’t you done sorting yet?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Redford.” He gestured for Birdie to join him.
With a nod to her current boss, Birdie strode over to Freddie and held out her hand. “Name’s Courtney. Pleased to meet you.”
Freddie gave her a quick shake, then turned his lanky body to the pair of carts parked side by side. “With you shadowing, you might as well push one yerself. We might even complete our circuit in time for a tea break.”
“Fair enough.” Following his example, she gripped the handle and pushed the cart with two bins, each about twenty-four by thirty-six inches. Each one loaded to bursting with all manner of envelopes rubber banded together. There were even a few small packages precariously balanced on top. It was surprisingly difficult to push as she followed him toward what looked like a freight elevator where half a dozen others with identical carts waited.
“We’re running a bit behind.” The glance Freddie gave her made it clear he’d been waiting for her to show up.
“I’m sure we can catch up.” It was just beginning to occur to her she’d made a wise choice in wearing flats.
“If only these buggers would let us go ahead.” Grumbles rose from those clustered around the elevator door awaiting their turn.
“You wait your turn, Freddie. Just like the rest of us.”
Her Improper Affair Page 10