‘If you feel sick, tell the teacher and I’ll come and get you.’
‘Promise?’
She wrapped her arms around her youngest sister. Usually the cheeky, smart-mouthed one, today she looked small and vulnerable. ‘I promise, sweetie.’
By the time she arrived in the office Abby felt she’d already done a day’s work. She was about to sneak – technically she wasn’t late, but she certainly wasn’t early – through to her desk when she spotted a tall, slender woman leaning over Doug’s desk. Tight black skirt, long stocking clad legs, black stiletto shoes, her manner was – familiar was a posh word for it. Rude was how Abby would describe it.
‘Are you looking for something?’
The creature turned round and it was only then Abby caught sight of Doug sitting behind his desk. Whatever this woman had been doing leaning over, and boy was her mind racing over that image, especially considering how few buttons she’d bothered to do up on her blouse, she’d been doing it with the full permission of her boss.
Looking slightly uncomfortable, Doug cleared his throat. ‘Abby, meet Geraldine, our marketing director. Geraldine, this is Abby, my PA.’
‘Sorry, I thought … well, I couldn’t see you behind Geraldine.’ Please let me go and slink quietly to my desk, she silently pleaded. Something I should have done in the first place.
‘I didn’t realise I was that wide.’ The dark haired, exotic looking Geraldine gave her a small, tight smile.
‘Oh God, you’re not. Not at all. It must have been the angle, or the way you were bent over …’ Yikes. ‘You’re very slim,’ she added lamely.
She didn’t miss the veiled look Geraldine gave Doug. A private message that probably said why on earth did you pick this one? Geraldine gave her one final, dismissive glance before returning her dark-eyed gaze back to Doug.
Yes, rude had been exactly the right word. Overly familiar might have done, too. Doug must be getting a real eyeful of whatever it was Geraldine was at pains for him to see. Feeling totally put in her place, Abby trudged off to her little alcove, firmly shutting the door to Doug’s office behind her.
If that’s the type of woman he liked – bony and cold – good luck to him.
Doug stared back at his marketing director.
‘Rudeness isn’t a particularly endearing quality,’ he told her mildly, though inside he was fuming. He was getting pretty fed up with the way Geraldine kept turning up at his office with items other than work on her agenda.
‘She implied I was fat.’
‘She thought you were rifling through my desk and apologised. You know perfectly well you’re not fat so you can cut out the attitude. Abby is an employee and we treat everyone in Crumbs with respect.’
‘Got a soft spot for your new PA, have you?’
Doug sighed. He had enough angst in his life without adding a melodramatic female to it. ‘I won’t have anyone who works here being treated so carelessly. Abby’s working on the agenda for the Taylors meeting next week. Go and make friends. If you’re not careful she’ll put you down for the after lunch slot.’
‘Ah, so the perky blonde wields the power, does she?’
He turned his attention to his computer, not bothering to reply. It was a toss up whether the sex he was getting was worth the grief.
For the rest of the morning he ploughed through the Taylors proposal, trying to get up to speed with the old brands. Abby’s words from yesterday kept floating round his head and he phoned Geraldine for the promotional spend on them over the last ten years and any recent market research reports.
At the sound of a light cough he glanced up to find Abby standing in the doorway in what he’d nicknamed her Bambi pose, all awkward and hesitant. And cute.
Also worryingly quiet.
‘What is it?’
‘I, umm.’ She shuffled and twisted her hands.
‘Geraldine hasn’t been rude again, has she? She’s not so bad when you get to know her.’
‘I need to go,’ she blurted. ‘I’m so sorry but the school phoned and Ellie, she’s my youngest sister, she’s been sick. I knew she wasn’t feeling well this morning but I didn’t want to let you down so I pushed her into school, but now …’ She paused, took in a deep breath. ‘Sorry, but I have to pick her up.’
‘Is there nobody else who can help?’
She gave him a small smile. ‘I wish there was, but my other sisters are at school or college and my dad, well, he runs this garage business so he can’t really drop everything and pick Ellie up.’
Though he clearly expected his eldest daughter to do that. Doug leant back in his chair and decided to ask the obvious question. ‘And your mum?’
‘She died twelve years ago.’
Doug winced. He’d like to bet Abby had been the stand in mother ever since. ‘I am sorry. I hope Ellie gets better soon.’
Her brown eyes widened, appearing impossibly large in her small face. ‘Does that mean I can go?’
‘Of course.’
She showed no signs of moving, though. ‘Is that it? Aren’t you going to get cross? At least raise your voice? Tell me to finish what I’m doing before I go?’
A rare desire to laugh bubbled inside him. ‘I can if you want me to.’
‘I’ve finalised the agenda for next week’s meeting with Taylors and sent it round to everyone for comment. I’m still waiting on two people to confirm they’re coming but I can chase them up this afternoon from home. I’ll also work on formatting the slides I’ve been given so far so they all look consistent.’
‘I guess that means I can’t get cross.’
A small frown appeared between her eyes. ‘Are you always this calm?’
‘Is that how I appear?’
‘Yes. You have this air of control about you. A composure, I guess, as if nothing ever upsets you. It’s only my second day on the job and already I’m going off early. You should at least be a bit annoyed.’
‘Maybe I am, inside.’
‘Are you?’ Her eyes swept over his face, as if trying to read his thoughts. ‘I’d rather know if you are. I hate having to second guess.’
Annoyed he could rule out, but he was beginning to feel frustrated. ‘I’m not angry with you, Abby. Are you lying about your sister being sick?’
She looked horrified. ‘Of course not.’
‘Did you make her sick?’
‘No.’
‘Then why should I be cross?’
She shuffled on her feet and let out a loud sigh. ‘Okay, I’m not going to argue with you, because then you really will be cross. Besides, you look like a tricky customer to argue with. So I’ll say thank you and nip out quickly before you change your mind. I hope to be in tomorrow but I’ll let you know if I can’t make it. I’ll also be on email and you’ve got my number if you need me for anything.’
‘Go and rescue your sister, Abby.’
‘Right.’ She gave him a crooked smile and ducked back out, appearing in his doorway a few moments later with her bag and a few haphazardly shoved together files. ‘I’m not pinching anything,’ she told him, shuffling the files so they were slightly less likely to fall out from her hands and onto the floor. ‘These are the notes behind the slides I’m going to work on at home—’
‘Go.’ He must have said it with the right amount of authority because she finally scuttled out, the files pushed awkwardly under her arms.
He’d wager a tenner they tumbled onto the floor before she made it out of the building.
Doug worked through his lunch and by four he reckoned he had a good enough handle on the Wafty Wafer, Crappy Crunch and Dubious Delight – or whatever the hell the stupid biscuits were called – to not make a fool of himself at next week’s meeting. After stretching out his neck muscles he turned off the computer, dumped it into his briefcase and sauntered out of the office.
He was just climbing into his car – a slate grey Aston Martin Vantage, one of the few perks of being Charles Faulkner’s son – when his mobile rang. Not
ing the caller, he slumped against the cream leather seat with a resigned thud.
‘Father. What have I done now?’
‘I don’t pay you to bugger off at four o’clock.’
Doug clenched his jaw, rubbed a hand over his face and drew on the control he’d spent a lifetime honing. ‘No, you pay me to be your son,’ he countered, glancing up at the Crumbs building to where his father had an office.
‘Get back inside and set a proper example.’
‘Or what? You’ll fire me?’
‘You think I won’t?’
‘I think you care too much about what others think to fire your own son.’
‘Then think again. I won’t be taken for a fool, not by the likes of you. You drive a fancy car, earn a decent wage and live in a nice house, all thanks to me. I can take it all away from you any time I like.’
Doug leant forward, resting his head on the steering wheel. Did the old bugger really think he was bothered about any of that? ‘Take it away then.’
‘Don’t tempt me.’
The desire to tell him to go to hell snapped at Doug, as it always did, burning a hole in his gut, but he bit his tongue. As he always did.
‘Thank you for the chat. As I was in the office at seven fifty-two, and you’ve just spent the last eight minutes talking to me, I’ve completed my contracted hours.’ He jabbed at the disconnect button and threw the phone onto the passenger seat. He was now in the perfect mood to beat the shit out of someone.
Shoving the Aston into gear he screamed out of the car park and headed for the gym. It wasn’t a place most people would associate with a man who carried the title of Managing Director, Crumbs – even if it was only in name – and drove an Aston Martin. The men and women who joined didn’t go to pose in lycra and drink energy drinks at a bar. They came to work out and to fight. Instead of fancy machines there were punchbags and rubber mats.
It was exactly the type of place he needed to let off steam after an altercation with his father. At university he’d taken up boxing and been pretty good at it. Too good, he recalled with a shudder. Now he preferred rolling around on the floor, grappling. It felt more physical, more skillful. Safer.
Pushing away his thoughts, he drove down the narrow alley and parked up outside the old brick building beneath the railway bridge. Hauling his bag onto his shoulder he marched inside, wincing as he read the fresh graffiti on the wall near the entrance. Was that anatomically possible?
Luke was already in the changing room. He took one look at Doug’s face and came to the wrong conclusion. ‘Told you you’d regret hiring a PA based on looks and not talent.’
‘I don’t regret hiring Abigail.’
Luke peered more closely at him. ‘If it isn’t the new PA who’s put that glower on your pretty face, it must be your father. Have you two exchanged words again?’
The downside of having a friend who’d known him all his life was that he saw too much. ‘Shut up and get changed.’
Luke shook his head and pulled on a workout vest. He was shorter than Doug by a few inches but, though Doug hated to admit it, he filled out a vest more impressively.
‘You know it’s about time you sorted out this crap with your father,’ Luke muttered. ‘You’re getting more and more miserable working in a place you hate when you could be making us both lots of money doing the thing you love.’
‘Thanks.’ Doug threw his work clothes into his holdall and yanked on his shorts. ‘When I want your advice, I’ll ask for it.’ He knew he was being a git, but he couldn’t shake himself out of it. Only a session in the gym could do that.
‘So how is it going with the new PA?’ Luke had dealt with his foul temper for too many years to be bothered by it.
‘She’s pretty good, actually. Surprisingly efficient.’ He stood and bounced on the balls of his feet, adrenaline fizzing round his system, every inch of him ready to pulverise a punchbag.
Apparently Luke hadn’t finished the conversation though. ‘And?’ he asked, his dark eyes alight with mischief.
‘And now it’s time to do what we came here to do.’
‘Which, translated, means I think she’s hot but I’m not discussing it.’ Doug glowered, which only made Luke laugh. ‘Well, well. I wonder what the gorgeous, though rather scary, Geraldine is going to make of this new addition to Crumbs?’
‘And I wonder when you’re going to stop gossiping and get your arse into the gym. I’m itching for a fight and right now you’re top of my people-I’d-like-to-thrash list.’
Luke nodded and rose to his feet, though the smirk remained on his face. Doug looked forward to wiping it off.
Chapter Five
Abby had often wondered what the phrase ‘Running around like a blue-arsed fly’ actually meant. Now she knew. She’d arrived at the swanky hotel, the venue for the off-site meeting with Taylors, at seven a.m. A full two hours before the attendees were scheduled to arrive. So where had the time gone? Of course it hadn’t helped that the hotel had tried to shoehorn them into a meeting room so small they’d have been sitting on each other’s laps. By the time Abby had complained and had it changed, then emailed and texted everyone with the name of the new meeting room, the early start she’d given herself had practically disappeared. Now she was sitting in the coffee area outside the new meeting room, and feeling like she’d done a day’s work already.
‘Is it safe to assume the latest room name you’ve sent round will actually be the meeting venue? Or will you be changing it again in half an hour?’
Abby looked up from her to-do list to find the immaculately dressed Geraldine staring down at her. Today she wore a fitted bright fuchsia suit which, Abby was forced to admit, looked pretty amazing with her dark looks. She also wore deep purple nail varnish on nails Abby knew, because she’d seen the evidence, were not only long but sharp.
‘The original room they gave us was too small, so I had to change it.’ She wasn’t going to apologise to this woman. She wasn’t.
‘I suppose I’d better go and collect the handouts I’d put in the first room and move them to the second room, then.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.’ Oh bugger, looked like she was going to apologise then. ‘Do you need any help?’ And worse, she was going to grovel.
Geraldine gave her a tight smile. ‘I’m sure I can find a strong male to help me.’
As she watched her saunter away, hips wiggling sensually in a way Abby knew she’d never be able to mimic, she bet Geraldine would have no problem finding that man. No problem at all.
With a sigh she returned to the next item on her list. Food. Somewhere between yesterday, when she’d checked up on them, and this morning, the catering department had managed to lose her lunch request. Honestly, were they trying to make her look inefficient?
Shifting through the suggested menu packages she’d been given she became aware of someone walking up to her. The hint of fresh male aftershave told her it was a tall, dark, handsome someone.
‘Everything okay?’
‘Doug, hi. Yes, it’s all fine, thank you. Everything is fine. Just … fine.’
He frowned. ‘That’s reassuring to hear. I think.’
Another of those silences followed. A week into the job and Abby was still trying to get her head around them. Silence meant either he was thinking, or he’d found out all he needed to know. It didn’t mean she had to fill it. ‘For lunch would you prefer the healthy buffet, the lighter sit down meal or the eat-until-you-burst sit down, and maybe never get back up again, option?’ she blurted.
His lips curved into the small smile that was fast becoming a high point of her day. Generally his face showed very little emotion so when she managed to tease a smile from him, it was a personal triumph. ‘The first or second options might be more conducive to a successful meeting,’ he replied, easing his hands into the trouser pockets of his immaculate charcoal grey suit. ‘Though right now I’m thinking the third has its merits.’
She tried not to stare at him.
Tried to ignore the way her blood seemed to hum in his presence. ‘Are you not looking forward to the afternoon?’
‘I’m not looking forward to any of it.’
‘Oh.’ She risked a glance at his handsome face. As usual it didn’t give much away. ‘Do you not get on with the Taylors people?’
He looked like he was on the verge of replying, though she couldn’t be sure because his keeping quiet expression was pretty similar to his about to talk one. At that precise moment though, Charles Faulkner swanned into the coffee area – she recognised him from the photographs on the company website. Instantly the atmosphere changed from congenial to antagonistic.
Doug’s spine stiffened, his shoulders straightened and his jaw tensed.
‘Everything set?’ Charles’ voice boomed over to them. Loud and pompous, his question wasn’t directed at her, but at his son.
‘Of course.’ Doug’s quiet, controlled voice held a frosty edge. ‘Have you met my new personal assistant? Charles Faulkner, Abigail Spencer. Abby’s the one who’s pulled everything together today.’
Abby felt a deep flush scald her cheeks. ‘Well, I wouldn’t put it quite that strongly. I’ve arranged the room and …’ She trailed off when she realised Faulkner senior wasn’t taking the blindest bit of notice.
‘Teddy and Stanley are in the foyer,’ he snapped at Doug. ‘When you’ve finished flirting with your admin, I suggest you go and greet them.’
Abby knew her jaw was hanging as she watched Charles Faulkner’s stocky figure disappear out of the room. ‘Flipping heck, you’re nothing like your father.’
A muscle twitched in Doug’s otherwise expressionless face, but he didn’t reply.
‘Is he always that rude?’ It was only when he turned to stare at her Abby realised she should hardly be saying that to him. ‘Sorry, please forget I said that. Sometimes my mouth runs away with words my brain hasn’t had a chance to sanction.’
‘Sometimes?’
Glacier blue eyes held hers and for several nerve wracking seconds she thought she was in trouble. Then his lips twitched, making her heart flutter wildly.
Oh Crumbs Page 5