A Business Engagement

by Jessica Steele

  She usually had a good appetite, and was fortunate in being able to eat anything she fancied without adding an ounce to her slender shape. Yet strangely she just didn’t feel hungry now.

  ‘Do you mind if I don’t?’

  He did. ‘I insist,’ he wheedled.

  She laughed. Whatever he was, he was obvious, but she liked him. ‘I’ve some shopping...’ she began vaguely.

  ‘I won’t take no for an answer,’ he returned stubbornly as they went through the ante-room and into the corridor.

  Someone wandered between them. Ashlyn, who had no intention of having a ‘Yes, you can, No, I can’t’ argument in the lift, took off for the other door she recognised on that floor.

  Ten minutes later, she judged it safe to leave the ladies’ room. She was walking back along the corridor, thinking about what she could and could not recount to her father when she got home, when she saw another door up ahead open. A moment later a mature, well-built man appeared, followed by Carter Hamilton.

  Oh, heck. Why she should want to turn about and go the other way Ashlyn had no idea. But, if she didn’t want to look foolish, she would have to go on. Which would mean, since this must be the man that Carter was lunching with—not one of his lady-loves as she had imagined—that they would all be going down in the same lift.

  Carter was closing the door just as she reached them. Ashlyn went to walk on by, but to her surprise, not to say astonishment, she felt her arm caught and held in a firm grip. Made to halt by Carter, she turned, and, letting go of her arm, he addressed his companion.

  ‘Osmund, I’d like you to meet our newest board member, Ashlyn Ainsworth.’ Ashlyn guessed she was still in shock. Carter, for a change, was not ignoring her but was actually introducing her. She stood where she was and even extended her right hand to the man as her chairman completed, ‘Ashlyn, this is Mr Kogstad who’s over from Oslo to see us.’

  Mr Kogstad was Norwegian! She loved Norway! She smiled a welcoming smile. ‘Det gleder meg å hilse på Dem, Herr Kogstad.’ She shook hands with him, aware that Carter Hamilton was doing something of a double take. Norwegian wasn’t her best language, but from the beaming expression on Herr Kogstad’s face she guessed her greeting of ‘I’m pleased to meet you’ had been received and understood.

  ‘You speak my language!’ Herr Kogstad exclaimed warmly.

  ‘A little,’ she owned modestly, thinking that since it didn’t appear as if Carter spoke Norwegian, and that since Osmund Kogstad obviously spoke English, it would be better to continue in the latter.

  ‘Your accent is perfect,’ Herr Kogstad assured her, and gallantly asked, ‘You are joining us for lunch, perhaps, Ashlyn?’

  No way. She opened her mouth ready to make her excuses. ‘Actually I’ve arranged—’ But she got cut off before she could invent anything very clever.

  ‘Everyone wants to take Ashlyn to lunch,’ Carter Hamilton. sliced in pleasantly, and Ashlyn turned to stare at him. His tone might be even, but there was a steely glint in his eyes. Still in the same pleasant tone, her chairman went on, ‘But we have priority over everyone else.’

  She couldn’t believe what she was hearing! Was he saying that he wanted her to lunch with them? Was he pulling rank, ordering her to break her other arrangement...? Ah. Click. Suddenly it dawned on her that he thought her other arrangement was to have lunch à deux with Geoff Rogers.

  She smiled. It offended her to be bossed about by Carter, but since she was certain that it was only out of duty to the group’s good name that he was ordering her to lunch with them—and that personally he would hate it like poison—she could afford to be magnanimous.

  ‘I’d love to have lunch with you, if I may,’ she beamed. She felt it might sound insincere if she told Herr Kogstad how she truly loved his country, and so said instead, ‘It’s some while since I was last in Oslo—I should like to hear of any changes to your capital.’ You swine, Carter Hamilton, she fumed, and wondered how, with so much dislike in her soul for one man, she could, at the same time, smile and chat so pleasantly to the other. She’d just love to tell Carter that with his efforts to stop her having lunch with Geoff he had spiked no one’s guns but his own!

  Yet, even while she disliked Carter Hamilton like crazy, even while she was aware that the feeling was mutual, as they progressed from lift to car to restaurant she just knew instinctively that Carter would do and say nothing in front of their guest that would make her look small.

  And so she relaxed. Herr Kogstad was Carter’s guest at lunch, and, because of her connection with Hamilton Holdings, the Norwegian was her guest too. ‘I hope you’re hungry, Herr Kogstad?’ she enquired. Since something light was never going to fill either man’s large frame, she added, ‘I believe the peppered steak here is quite splendid.’

  ‘This restaurant is a favourite of yours, Ashlyn?’ Carter pressed suavely.

  She’d been once—and was saving up before she came again. ‘Lord, yes,’ she answered blithely, and was happy to be consulted by their guest who needed some item on the menu translating into Norwegian.

  She was hungry suddenly, and ate well, glad that the other two did also. Over the meal, at their guest’s request, she fell to calling Osmund by his first name too.

  ‘Does the funicular still run there?’ she asked him when the port of Bergen was mentioned, and soon they were deep in discussion.

  ‘You sound as if you visited my country often, Ashlyn,’ Osmund commented.

  ‘Not recently, I’m afraid. But my parents and I went every year for a skiing holiday for a while.’

  And so it was a pleasant lunchtime. Though Ashlyn was at pains not to hog the conversation, and felt perfectly at ease sitting back when Carter had anything to say, she was a little astounded at quite how charming he was to her. He brought her in, as well as their guest, to comment when the occasion demanded it—not that she trusted Carter for a moment. He’d be looking through her again at the next board meeting; that she didn’t doubt.

  To her surprise, she discovered that for all this lunch could be called a working one business was barely touched upon. She acknowledged she had a lot to learn.

  ‘That was a marvellous meal,’ Osmund thanked Carter as they left the restaurant, and, turning to Ashlyn, he said, ‘I will bring you here the next time I come to England.’

  Carter wasn’t the only one with charm, she observed. ‘I should like that,’ she smiled.

  ‘Are you coming back to the office with us, Ashlyn?’ Carter enquired.

  For the second time she declined his offer of a lift back to Hamilton Holdings. ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ she answered nicely, ‘I’ve one or two bits of shopping...’

  She shook hands with Osmund who sincerely insisted that if she was in Oslo before he was again in London she must contact him and his wife and they would be delighted to entertain her. Ashlyn went on her way wondering why she hadn’t gone back with the two men. It had never been her intention to do any shopping. Yet she felt that she wanted to be on her own. It was almost as if she felt that being in Carter Hamilton’s company for too long was unnerving. How ridiculous!

  As she had thought, her father wanted to know all that she could tell him as soon as she arrived home. Both he and her mother were in the drawing room, and he was voicing his first enquiry as she walked in through the door.

  ‘How did you get on?’

  ‘Very well,’ she assured him—after all, she had understood a little of the meeting this time, so that had to be a vast improvement!

  ‘Who was there?’ Before she could answer, another question came. ‘Carter Hamilton wasn’t there?’

  ‘He was, actually. He chaired the meeting.’

  ‘Well, he would,’ her father stated, as if that much was obvious. ‘Er—you’re a little late—did you go out to lunch again?’

  ‘Mmm—I did have lunch,’ Ashlyn answered. She didn’t know why, but she felt she would prefer to leave the matter there.

  ‘Who with?’ her mother, whose antenna h
ad tuned into something worth investigating, asked.

  ‘Um—Mr Hamilton was entertaining a Norwegian businessman. They kindly invited me along and—’

  ‘Did they now!’ Her mother and father exchanged glances. ‘Other board members were present?’

  ‘Well—no.’

  ‘Just the three of you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Ashlyn reluctantly owned—and knew then why she had not wanted to say with whom she had lunched. She wouldn’t put it past her father, or her mother either, for that matter, to be on the phone to one of her uncles within the next half an hour to exaggerate the importance of her presence at the lunch.

  Ashlyn knew it for a fact on Friday evening, when she met up with her cousin Duncan for a drink. ‘What’s this my mother tells me about you being one of the most popular members on the board of Hamilton Holdings?’ he teased.

  ‘No!’ she gasped.

  ‘Ah,’ he grinned. ‘Methinks it comes under the same heading as “Of course, Duncan’s tutors think he’s the most brilliant student they’ve ever had”.’

  She had to laugh; his mimicry of his mother’s voice was superb. ‘Shut up, and mine’s a gin and tonic,’ she told him.

  The weekend seemed to be particularly dull. In fact Ashlyn got up on Monday morning and realised that she felt restless, with a need to be doing something. But doing what? She found no answer. All she knew was that ever since she had returned home last Tuesday she had felt that there was something—something indefinable—lacking in her life.

  And yet as far as she could remember she hadn’t found the board meeting so overpoweringly stimulating. She’d been pleased to have understood more of what was going on, of course, but even so there had been great chunks of it that remained a mystery to her.

  Perhaps speaking with Osmund Kogstad had revived memories of the wonderful holidays she and her parents had spent in Norway. But why should that make her feel restless now?

  Ashlyn was still feeling much the same around midday. Both her parents were out, just she and the housekeeper at home, when the phone rang. ‘I’ll get it!’ she called to Mrs North. She had meant to give Todd a ring—it was probably him now.

  ‘Hello,’ she said.

  ‘Hello, Ashlyn,’ answered a voice that was male, but was not Todd’s. A voice which she instantly knew; why did she feel the need to sit down? ‘Carter Hamilton,’ the voice announced.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she answered warily. He had been pleasant to her the last time she had seen him, but they’d had a guest with them. She must never lose sight of the fact that Carter Hamilton was looking for a way to remove her from the board.

  ‘I’ve a problem,’ he stated.

  She almost said ‘Oh, yes’ again, but changed it to a cagey, ‘A problem?’ From what she had seen of him, Carter could handle any problem standing on his head!

  ‘The thing is, Lorna Stokes, my PA, had an accident over the weekend...’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry!’ Ashlyn exclaimed spontaneously. She remembered his PA. A very pleasant, capable-looking woman. ‘Is she...?’

  ‘She’s not too badly hurt, but she’s in plaster and will be in hospital for a while. She’ll be off for some weeks after that until her bones heal.’

  ‘Oh, the poor woman.’

  ‘What about poor me?’

  Selfish brute! If you want a little sympathy, come to me—I’ve got as little as anybody! ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’m without my most efficient and all but indispensable PA.’

  The poor woman could probably do with a rest. ‘So where do I come in? Good grief!’ she exclaimed, quite without thinking. ‘You don’t want me to be your PA?’

  Even as her temporarily departed brain matter returned to acknowledge her question as ludicrous, Carter was asking—sarcastically, she was sure—‘Can you type?’

  Rat! ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ Ashlyn bridled. She heard a muffled sound at the other end of the phone, and if she hadn’t known him better she’d have suspected Carter of covering a laugh—as if she’d amused him. But she’d rarely seen him smile, so doubted very much that he had a sense of humour, much less one that was on a par with her own.

  ‘In point of fact, I’ve got other staff covering most of Lorna’s PA duties—that isn’t where the problem lies.’

  ‘Oh?’ Ashlyn queried politely.

  ‘Where I need more specialised help is with the public relations side of her work.’

  Ashlyn had no intention of rushing in with another impulsive, brainless assumption. ‘I’m not with you,’ she said.

  ‘You, Ashlyn, whether you know it or not, are a natural on the PR side.’ He was complimenting her on something? The moon would be blue tonight!

  ‘What are you asking?’ she asked as she started to recover.

  ‘Just that you come in and be ready to chat to people when I’m not available.’ Feeling slightly staggered, at the same time Ashlyn started to feel more perky as Carter went on to outline, ‘Lorna knows all the people I deal with. But, in her absence, an associate or board member of another company is going to feel much more valued if they’re put through to a member of our board, rather than having to speak to someone covering my PA’s duties. Don’t you agree?’

  She did. Having attended a couple of board meetings where business worth millions was discussed, she saw the sense of a VIP being put through to a board member, rather than being asked to leave a message with whoever happened to be in the PA’s office at that time.

  ‘Well, yes,’ she had to confess. ‘But—’ She broke off. She had almost said, But I know nothing about the business, and at once realised the mistake of that. She realised she knew nothing, and thought this man must know it too; he wanted her off the board, but for her parents’ sake she had to stay there. No way was she going to give Carter Hamilton ammunition which he could use later. Suddenly, startlingly, it dawned on her that this might be a trap.

  ‘Well?’ Carter’s tone was short. This she judged, was a man who was unused to asking anyone for anything.

  And, if it was a trap, surely she could find the ins and outs of his PA’s ‘accident’ once she took on her phone-manning position? Yet she hesitated to accept, though there was a part of her, a part she did not understand, that was very keen to take on the job.

  ‘Er—it would entail my coming in every day—Monday to Friday?’ she queried.

  ‘That’s when we do business!’

  Pig! ‘But...’ She paused, smiled to herself, and asked prettily, ‘Aren’t you worried that if I come in every day I might bump into Geoffrey Rogers?’

  There was a silence at Carter’s end. She guessed her query hadn’t helped him to swallow the fact that he’d had to ask her for something—and realised that there were better and much sweeter ways of getting even for some slighting remark than thumping someone. She was really enjoying this!

  ‘You—want me to apologise for what I said.’

  On your knees! ‘A small grovel wouldn’t come amiss!’ she replied—and definitely heard a laugh, brief though it was. But she did not get her apology.

  ‘Are you coming or not?’ he barked.

  And she wanted to laugh. She didn’t really need an apology. Carter must have rethought his opinion of her behaviour with Geoff Rogers, or he would not be offering her this job now. And she no longer felt restless, she felt stimulated, and knew that, for however long this job might last, she wanted it.

  ‘Do I get my own desk?’

  ‘You get your own office.’

  It got better and better. ‘When do I start?’

  ‘As soon as you can.’

  Ashlyn took a deep and steadying breath. ‘I’ll be in tomorrow!’ she said—and put down her phone receiver.

  She almost punched the air, she felt so happy.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ASHLYN’S euphoria had evaporated somewhat by the following morning, when, with both her parents up and around to wave her off, she set out for Hamilton Holdings.

  She must have
been carried away by the confidence Carter Hamilton had that she could do the job, she realised, because this morning she was sure that she could not.

  That would not stop her from giving it her best shot, though, for several reasons. One: Carter would be forever on the lookout to give her a black mark for something. Two: her father, and her mother too, to a lesser extent, had been at first incredulous, and then jubilant, when she had told them about her new, temporary role. And three: she now had to make a good showing, if only to save her father’s face—because her uncle Richard had dropped in last night. He’d barely been across the threshold before her father had been telling him how Carter Hamilton had phoned her in person that day.

  How she’d managed to cover her dismay when she’d heard her father tell his brother, ‘So Ashlyn’s no longer a mere non-executive member of the board but an executive director,’ she did not know. The trouble was, even though her father was getting so carried away, her loyalty to him meant there was nothing she could do or say to contradict him.

  The nearer she drove to Hamilton Holdings, however, the more Ashlyn worried about how she was going to cope, and deal with the chairman. A month ago she would have said he could go hang before she would help him out. So, given that she had accepted the job, and without too much deliberation either, did that mean she did not dislike the man so much as she had thought?

  Ashlyn arrived at Hamilton Holdings, parked her car, and, her insides in uproar, took the lift to the reception area. An assistant named Una was waiting for her when she stepped out. ‘Miss Ainsworth?’ Una enquired, her eyes on Ashlyn’s classic knot of thick red hair, as if she had been advised that the person she was looking for would have hair of that colour.

  Ashlyn, very much aware of her lack of training and business knowledge, was quite surprised when Una, explaining that she had been roped in to help in Mr Hamilton’s office, showed her to the office she had been allocated. Ashlyn discovered she was to be housed on the top floor—with all the other high-ranking executives.

  Her office was airy, spacious and the one nearest the lift and stairs. ‘Is this all right for you?’ Una enquired. ‘Mr Hamilton said if you—’