When Strangers Meet

by Kemp, Shirley

  She shrugged regretfully. ‘None at all.’

  His jaw tightened irritably.

  Hayley noticed it with resentment. It wasn’t her fault this had happened. He couldn’t really expect her to complete the work by magic, but the failure seemed to hang over her like a cloud.

  ‘I could work through until it was finished, I suppose,’ she said doubtfully. ‘But I don’t know when that would be.’

  He looked more angry than pleased at her suggestion.

  ‘That won’t be necessary. There’s too much day-to-day work to be done here for you to take time off in lieu of overtime.’

  ‘Oh, but I shouldn’t automatically want time off. In my other job it was often necessary for me to work overtime. It became part of the job.’

  She didn’t add that it had been to the exclusion of practically everything else, including her social life. That was partly why it had hurt so much when she found that loyalty hadn’t worked both ways.

  He nodded coldly. ‘I’m sure. But here I’d like you to manage things a little more efficiently, so as to make overtime unnecessary. That way you’ll stay bright and alert, with less risk of mistakes, and we’ll both be happy.’

  His disapproving tone cut Hayley to the quick. His implication was all too obvious. He hadn’t completely absolved her from fault with regard to the missing report. She fumed inwardly. She hadn’t expected him to be pleased about the situation, but she had hoped he would be fair.

  ‘The delay will mean rearranging some meetings.’ He sighed impatiently. ‘Remind me in the morning to go through my diary.’

  He stood up and began pushing his paperwork back into his briefcase. The grim lines of his face had deepened, making him look older and unexpectedly weary.

  Hayley’s annoyance faded a little. If he pushed her hard, he pushed himself ever harder.

  ‘Just do what you can,’ he said, less brusquely. ‘I’ll be out for the rest of the day, so you won’t have me to worry about.’

  He was shrugging into his coat, the day having turned rather chilly, and Hayley found her mind wandering again to the broad, masculine strength of his shoulders and the lithe movements of his body. She gave herself a mental shake as he went on, ‘Put the phone calls through to Reception, and Vicki will take the messages.’

  Hayley was relieved to see the ghost of a smile on his fascinating lips. To her further surprise, he touched her chin with a finger, holding her to his gaze for a second or two.

  ‘Not such an ogre after all, hey?’

  If he expected an answer to that, she couldn’t give him one. She was too busy wondering if he had the power to read her mind.

  The shock from his touch ran right through her body, and it seemed impossible to unlock her gaze from his. If one finger could do so much, what would it be like...?

  With a near superhuman effort she tore her eyes away from his, shaken by the confusion of her feelings...half pleasure...half resentment at the ease of the charm he used with such devastating effect...when it suited him. But at least this time she hadn’t recoiled.

  After he’d gone Hayley found it difficult to settle to work. She sat for some time with her elbows on her desk and her chin resting in her hands, trying to decide what made Marcus Maury tick, and why, in his presence, she found herself ticking furiously.

  Eventually she sat before the computer and opened it up to begin yet another search. Desultorily she went through the routine to bring up the various lists of files, and then suddenly a strange list popped up on to the screen, arranged alphabetically and seemingly endless. Somehow she must have found entry into the universal memory. Quickly she scanned through to M, and there it was! ‘Minutes 1’!

  She simply couldn’t believe her eyes.

  Now all she had to do was bring it up into her own system. She did it eventually with the help of her manual, and felt a glow of satisfaction. ‘Minutes 1’ was back in place, ready for her to take up where she’d left off.

  She still couldn’t understand what had happened, but wasn’t stupid enough to look a gift-horse in the mouth.

  Cheered by her unexpected luck, Hayley got down to the business of finishing the minutes. She didn’t put the phone through to Reception. After all, Marcus Maury had suggested it only because he’d thought she would have more to do than she now had.

  Besides, answering the phone would break the monotony of too much typing, and put her in touch with the people she would be dealing with from now on as the managing director’s secretary.

  There weren’t that many calls of interest, however, until about four-thirty, when Felicity Braun rang, asking to be put through to Marcus Maury right away.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Maury is not available at the moment.’

  An impatient sigh sounded down the line. ‘For pity’s sake, don’t play the dragon at the gate now. If Marcus is in a meeting or something, just drag him out. I wish to speak to him urgently.’

  Hayley tried to keep the frost from her voice. ‘Mr Maury isn’t in a meeting, Miss Braun. He’s out of the office.’

  ‘That tells me a lot,’ the actress said snappily. ‘Out of the office where?’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t know.’ Hayley bit her lip, wishing he’d told her, or that she’d had the sense to ask him. ‘He didn’t say.’

  ‘New at this game, are you?’ Felicity asked disparagingly. ‘Well, if this is your best performance, I don’t think you’re going to last long.’

  If you have anything to do with it I probably won’t, Hayley retorted silently, but aloud she said, ‘I’m sorry, Miss Braun. I’ll tell Mr Maury you called.’

  ‘Yes. Do that! If I don’t tell him first.’ The phone was slammed down with a resounding clatter that rang in Hayley’s head for some time afterwards.

  He came in about half an hour later, with a frown on his face that seemed to spell trouble for someone.

  ‘Get me a cup of coffee, will you?’ he commanded, without preamble.

  The serving hatch in the staff-room was closed, but, in answer to Hayley’s knock, it opened and a disgruntled face appeared in the aperture.

  ‘You’re too late. Everything’s cold and I’m not making any fresh.’

  ‘It’s not for me,’ Hayley explained hastily. ‘Mr Maury wants a coffee. Black, no sugar.’

  ‘I know how he likes it. I’ve been here long enough.’

  The disdainful sniff left Hayley in no doubt that the lady felt that her length of service gave her the edge over any new upstart.

  He was sitting behind his desk when she eventually returned with the steaming cup, studying the file containing the completed minutes, a puzzled expression in place of the earlier grimness.

  ‘You finished all this today?’ he queried as she set the cup on the heat-resistant pad on his highly polished desk. ‘What are you, Miss Morgan? Some kind of superwoman?’

  ‘Unfortunately not.’ Hayley would have liked to claim the title, but couldn’t. ‘I finished it only because the universal memory magically appeared on my screen. Don’t ask me how.’

  He grunted shortly. ‘Then I won’t. But are you sure it wasn’t there all the time?’

  ‘I’m sure it wasn’t. I searched for it for over an hour this morning. Later I found it somewhere quite different.’

  He studied her face silently, the blue eyes deliberately unreadable, until her colour began to rise with discomfort. Then he said musingly, ‘In my book, honesty ranks more than equal to capability. Some, probably most, might have lied by omission and just taken the credit.’

  Hayley let out the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.

  ‘Too risky,’ she said. ‘You might have expected me to repeat such a feat at some time in the future, and then what a fool I’d have looked.’

  His brows rose. ‘Sound reasoning, Miss Morgan.’ His mouth quirked sardonically at one corner. ‘Clear logic is almost as much an asset as a beautiful face.’

  Chauvinistic comment! she thought in silent annoyance, but the underlying imp
lication had her pulse jumping erratically, and when she couldn’t bear to go on looking into those disquieting blue depths any longer she turned away.

  Glancing down at her notebook, she said a little unevenly, ‘By the way, Miss Braun phoned.’

  ‘I know.’ The tone of his voice had changed, and she looked up quickly. The grimness was back. ‘I called her earlier and she told me you were rather less than helpful.’

  Hayley bit her lip. Her moment as paragon hadn’t lasted long! She could just imagine the comments made by Felicity Braun, with the incident blown up out of all proportion. ‘It wasn’t intentional.’

  He grimaced. ‘Why didn’t you put the phone through to Vicki in Reception as I told you?’

  ‘There didn’t seem any point, when I could manage myself.’

  Brusquely he said, ‘There was a point. Vicki was informed of my movements; you weren’t. Next time, follow instructions. It will save us all a lot of trouble.’

  Hayley bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry.’ She seemed always to be apologising for something, she thought a little resentfully.

  He gave a deep sigh and reached for his coffee. To her surprise, the look he gave her over the rim of his cup held a glint of humour.

  ‘Swings and roundabouts, Miss Morgan,’ he said. ‘Life’s full of them.’

  Which was certainly true of the rest of the week. So many swings and roundabouts that she was positively giddy. In the past she’d always managed to round the week off tidily, with everything that needed to be done completed by Friday. But when Friday came, the in-tray was still very much in.

  Marcus Maury had been out for the whole day, which was a blessing, since it allowed her to bash on unhindered. This time she did put her telephone through to the receptionist, with a silent blessing for the obliging Vicki.

  The girl came up towards the end of the afternoon with a list of messages.

  ‘Still in the thick of things, I see.’ She grinned. ‘Rather you than me. And if you think you’ll be really late leaving, don’t forget to let the porter know, because of the security system.’

  Hayley nodded, without ceasing the flight of her fingers over the computer keys. ‘Thanks a lot, Vicki. Have a good weekend.’

  ‘Oh, I will. Don’t worry.’ She was a pretty girl, with a carefree smile. ‘Have you got anything special on?’

  ‘Not really,’ Hayley said absently, and then, as she recalled, ‘Oh, my flatmate has two tickets for the première of Felicity Braun’s new film tomorrow night. I might go.’

  Vicki snorted. ‘Don’t you see enough of her around the office?’

  Hayley grimaced. ‘That’s a point.’

  The actress had been buzzing in and out the whole week, and Hayley wondered how she could spare the time. Probably ‘resting’ in between films, she decided a little cattily. And making the most of the opportunity to keep Marcus Maury’s interest at fever pitch. Though why that should bother Hayley she didn’t know, and at the moment she was too busy even to hunt for reasons.

  Remembering Marcus’s ban on overtime, she felt momentarily guilty. But he wasn’t here to see, and she did have the weekend ahead to get over it.

  Eventually the last letter was typed and placed in the folder for his signature. She took it through into his office.

  The room smelled faintly of his aftershave, which sent a strange little tingle up Hayley’s spine, making her shiver. She looked up at the portrait of him, which hung majestically behind his desk. He was wearing a dark, formal suit and looked very forbidding. And there was that little shiver again. What was it about this man that lured her into daydreaming? Hadn’t she reason enough to avoid such foolishness like the plague?

  The building was quiet now and she had time to notice how late it was. She hadn’t meant to stay so long.

  What was it Vicki had said about the security system and the porter? She hadn’t really been listening. She soon found out when she tried to open her office door. It was shut fast, and unresponsive to all her efforts to open it. Then she noticed the little code panel alongside, and groaned. A combination lock, which would only open the door to the right sequence. Now what was she going to do?

  A bubble of panic threatened to rise, but she pushed it down determinedly. Perhaps there was still somebody in the building...the porter in the lobby, or someone else working late. She picked up the telephone and clicked the rest up and down a few times, hoping someone might see or hear something on the switchboard, but nothing happened. She slammed it down hard in frustration.

  She thought about ringing Anthea, but her friend would probably be at the hairdresser’s by now. She had an evening appointment and had gone straight from her office, which was partly why Hayley had decided to work on. In any case, even if she could get hold of her, not knowing the code, Anthea wouldn’t be any real help in getting her out of the building.

  The police could probably help, but she was reluctant to involve them in her foolish situation. Marcus Maury was going to be annoyed enough about her deliberately disobeying yet another of his instructions, without her dragging the authorities into it.

  And he was right. Every time she deliberately went against him, she found herself in trouble.

  Which was why she held out so long before deciding to telephone him.

  In the end, of course, she had to accept that it was the only solution. She found his home number in his diary and dialled, sighing with frustration when she got his answering machine. Having worked herself up to this, her nerve was shaken by the disappointment. She was tempted just to replace the receiver, but steeled herself to leave a message, trying not to speculate on his feelings when he heard it.

  Now there really was nothing to do but wait until he either came to let her out or telephoned her.

  But after half an hour had passed she began to wonder whether he might not be away for the weekend, and felt a tremor that could easily become a quake. Firmly she pulled herself together.

  Using the logic he’d admired, she examined her situation. The very worst that could happen was that she would be here for the weekend, until the system was unlocked on Monday morning. The thought was unnerving, to say the least, but she thrust down the desire to panic. That wouldn’t get her anywhere. And anyway, it was unlikely to come to that. A more likely occurrence was that the cleaners would arrive at some time before then. Probably on Saturday morning.

  To take her mind off the situation, she worked on the backlog of filing and, with that done, she went into Marcus Maury’s office to start on his out-tray. She sat at his desk, in his chair, realising with surprise that, even without his presence, it was a comfort.

  After a little while she sat back with a tired sigh and closed her eyes, letting her mind wander. The first time she’d seen him, on the train, he’d been sitting like this, with his eyes closed. The familiar grim expression had been absent then, and his face, she remembered with a little spurt of excitement, had been relaxed and very handsome. She squirmed with renewed embarrassment. How had she ever have had the nerve to do what she’d done?

  But, strangely, she didn’t now regret the incident. Her only regret was that she hadn’t made the kiss a real one...allowed herself to feel it. An opportunity missed that would never come again.

  And he hadn’t mentioned it again. She’d wanted him to forget, and now it seemed that he had. The incident was memorable to her, but not necessarily so to him. Perhaps strange women kissed him all the time. The thought had been meant as a joke, but stirred an irrational feeling of annoyance.

  For heaven’s sake, she remonstrated with herself. He belongs to Felicity Braun, and you, my girl, know well enough where infatuation during working hours can lead. But then she hadn’t been the one who’d been infatuated. And she wasn’t now. Not if she could do anything about it.

  She must have dozed eventually, because she came to with a little start, her heart pounding as she tried to orientate herself. She was somewhere in a darkened room, and there was a noise that threatened danger. There was a f
aint light from somewhere, and suddenly, silhouetted in the doorway, a figure loomed. She screamed, jumping to her feet in fright.

  A startled male voice said, ‘What the hell...?’

  A light snapped on, and Marcus Maury stood looking at her in amazement.

  ‘Miss Morgan! What on earth...?’

  As fright gave way to relief she rushed towards him, stumbling over the rug on the polished floor. He caught her up before she fell and held her steady against him.

  Involuntarily, her arms went around his neck and she clung to him, her breath coming in little gasps. ‘Oh! Thank God! I thought I’d never get out.’

  Only now, when rescue finally had come, did she let herself feel the full dread of her situation, and she began to shake uncontrollably.

  He gathered her close, his hand moving soothingly against her back. She felt the strength of him, the hard outline of his body against hers, the firm but gentle clasp of his arms about her, and her fright began to subside.

  Suddenly self-conscious, she began gently to disentangle herself from him.

  ‘For heaven’s sake,’ he said, as she continued to tremble, ‘calm down and tell me what you’re doing here.’

  Reluctantly she moved away, looking up into his face rather sheepishly before trying to explain. ‘I got locked in. I stayed to finish the last of the letters and then found I couldn’t get out.’

  He made a sharp sound of annoyance. ‘I seem to remember making my opinions on that point quite clear to you.’

  Hayley felt a ridiculous urge to hang her head, but with an effort she kept her gaze steady.

  ‘I know. But I had some time to spare and I wanted to clear the decks ready for Monday.’

  She saw the ice-blue glint of anger in his eyes, and her own eyes widened on his in anticipation of what she knew would come.

  ‘Has it always been impossible for you to do as you’re told?’ he gritted.

  Hayley answered with attack. ‘Isn’t your secretary ever allowed to be a little spontaneous?’

  He said harshly, ‘Within the rules—occasionally. But if she’s doing her job competently, it shouldn’t be—’