Secretary on Demand (4 page)

The healthy optimism stayed with Shannon for the remainder of the week and right into the weekend, which was spent with Sandy who seemed agog at the turn of events. She kept referring to ‘the luck of the devil' and the way that Irish blarney could get a girl what she wanted until Shannon was forced to point out that the man was obviously impressed by all the secretarial potential he had spotted in her while she had waited tables.

‘Ha! Perhaps he spotted
other potential
,' Sandy whispered darkly over their celebratory pizza.

But even that failed to quench her optimism.

She dressed very carefully on the Monday morning, making sure that everything matched and that there were no unknowing eccentric touches which had always been permissible at the radio station and at Alfredo's but most certainly would not be in most normal working environments. She looked regretfully at her floppy hat as she left the bedsit, and at her flat black lace-up shoes which were her faithful companions whether accompanied by skirt or trousers. Neither would do. Blue skirt, white blouse, blue and black checked jacket, which unfortunately was the only one she possessed and as a hand-me-down from one of her sisters didn't fit quite right, and, of course, her coat, one of her more expensive purchases from her working life at the radio station.

Her hair had presented a bit of a problem. Braids didn't seem right for a secretarial job in a normal office environment, but wearing it loose wasn't an option because as far as she was concerned, it was just too
red
, too
beacon-like
, so she tied it into a low ponytail which she held in place with a large, tortoiseshell barrette.

Shannon decided, as she caught the underground to the address Kane Lindley had written down for her, that her mother would have loved her outfit but her brothers and sisters would have fallen over laughing. Although she wasn't the youngest in the family, she was the last girl and so her elder sisters had mothered her. She was the only one in the family with red hair and somehow the red hair had always made her look much younger than her years. Thank heavens she had tied it back. Severely. She was about to embark on a severe career path, she decided, working for a man who would certainly not tolerate too much gaiety within the four walls of his office.

Her first taste of exactly how different her job would be compared to the last two was when she arrived at the office which turned out to be in a building all smoked glass and, as she entered, marble floors and plants in the foyer. Mr Lindley, she was told by the receptionist who was separated from the public by a large, smooth circular desk, was waiting for her and that if she took the lift to the fourth floor, she would be directed to his office.

By the time Shannon was standing outside his door, she was fast losing faith in her office skills. They had certainly done nicely in her previous two jobs, but did radio stations and restaurants really lend themselves to the sort of top-class working skills needed in a place like this? Somewhere with thick carpets and enclosed offices and people hurrying like ants from computer terminals to fax machines and photocopiers? Her carefully thought-out clothes seemed hideously informal next to the smartly dressed women she had spied, who seemed to be in a uniform of grey suits and black pumps.

She tentatively knocked at the door, which was opened by a middle-aged woman with iron grey hair and sharp eyes.

‘I'm sorry,' Shannon stammered. ‘Actually, I'm looking for Mr Lindley's office. The girl at Reception—'

‘Should have called me to come and fetch you,' the woman said, interrupting her nervous explanation. ‘I shall have to have a word with her. Step inside, Miss McKee. Allow me first of all to introduce myself. I'm Sheila Goddard. I don't normally work for Mr Lindley, although it has to be said that he hasn't found a suitable replacement for his previous secretary for…well, frankly, months, and I've spent quite a bit of my time covering. Most inconvenient.' She gave Shannon a look
that seemed to imply that this inconvenience was somehow her fault.

‘This will be your office. As you can see, Mr Lindley's office is just beyond the inner door. Now, my dear, I must confess that we were all a little surprised when Mr Lindley informed us that he had found himself a permanent secretary…'

Not as surprised as I was to be offered the job, she thought. ‘I'm on one month's probation,' Shannon pointed out quickly, as she looked around the large outer office with its walnut desk and swivel chair and discreet company advertising pictures framed on the walls. Her optimism was fading fast in the face of all this sterile, hygienic space. No one around, no one to occasionally chat to. She might very well go mad within the month.

‘Naturally,' Sheila said. ‘You may join the line of unsuitable candidates, which is why I did suggest to Mr Lindley that it might have been a bit
rash
to take you on full time rather than as a temporary.'

‘If you don't mind me asking, why exactly has there been a long line of unsuitable candidates?'

‘Mr Lindley,' Sheila said ominously, ‘is a demanding boss. Anything less than first rate never satisfies him.' She knocked respectfully at the imposing door separating the two offices, giving Shannon ample time to accommodate the prospect of trying to work for a monster who would attack at the first sign of a typing error.

The monster, waiting for her behind his desk, was on the telephone when she entered and he carried on talking, his voice clipped, while Shannon looked all around her, taking in the even more sterile surroundings of his office, unbroken by any hint of personality. Not even a picture or two of his daughter in sight. When there was nothing else to look at without doing damage to her neck
muscles, she finally rested her green eyes on him. As he spoke, he leaned back in the leather chair, nodding at whatever was being said, answering solely in monosyllables.

‘Right,' he said, as soon as he had replaced the receiver. ‘You're here.'

‘With my references,' Shannon agreed. ‘But I must be honest, Mr Lindley, you were very kind to employ me but I don't think this arrangement is going to work out.' She pushed the references over to him and he began scanning them, then he sat back and looked at her.

‘Why not?'

‘Because this isn't the sort of working environment I'm used to at all. I really don't think I'll be suitable for the position.'

‘Why don't you let me be the one to decide? Would you like some coffee? Tea? While I explain what your specific duties will involve?'

‘No, thank you.'

‘You're nervous.' He sat back and looked at her with his hands loosely folded on his lap. ‘I'd never thought it of you, reds.'

‘I'm not nervous.' Pointless, she thought, trying to tell him to use her full surname. ‘It's just that…this is all a bit too formal for me… I wouldn't want to waste your time.'

‘Very considerate of you,' he said drily. ‘Your references are excellent. You're computer literate, you're willing to accept responsibilities… What makes you think you'd be wasting my time?'

‘Apparently you've run through quite a number of unsatisfactory secretaries. Well, either the recruitment agencies have all been failing to do their jobs, or else you're a difficult man to work for.'

‘I set high standards, if that's what you mean. Now, stop wittering about letting me down and let's start getting down to business. When I'm finished going through one or two clients with you and explaining what we do here, you can trot off to Personnel and sign your contract of employment.' He stood up, and glanced down at his watch, flicking back the cuff of his sleeve to expose dark hair gently curling at the strap.

‘I have meetings this afternoon, but I shall leave you to do the basics. Some letters, faxes, e-mails. You can fence incoming calls by taking messages and I'll get back to them later. Sheila's always down the corridor if you run into difficulties.' He could see doubt stamped in her wary green eyes and he wondered, in passing, whether she realised exactly how appealing it made her.

‘Look, if you really don't want to work for the company, I won't force you to stay. I can't force you to stay. The door's there and you're more than welcome to walk right through it and keep on walking until you get to an agency that has vacancies for interesting jobs in exciting, informal environments. Clearly you think that all this is just a little too stuffy for you. Perhaps you think that bosses should just lounge around all day in garish clothes with their feet on the desk, making as few demands as possible on their staff so as not to interrupt the enjoyment of it all. But,' he said, ‘I can guarantee that your pay will be more than double what you were earning at that restaurant. And that's excluding what you'll personally be paid by me for anything you do involving my daughter.'

Shannon gave him a wry look to match his own. ‘I'll give it a go. I'm as open to bribery as the next person.' Their eyes tangled in perfect mutual and amused understanding before she looked away.

She preceded her new boss into her office and sat down at the desk. He watched as her skirt rode a few centimetres higher, exposing slim, pale thighs through her tights. She'd disposed of the coat and the peculiar jacket, revealing a blouse that fitted snugly over her small breasts.

‘Clients.' Kane Lindley cleared his throat and frowned in concentration as she flicked on the computer and waited for him to pick up the sentence. ‘Accounts. Yes. Well, you'll be expected to update accounts and everything has to be filed in alphabetical order.' He leaned forward so that his forearm rested on the desk, almost brushing her bare skin.

‘A lot of business is conducted overseas, so it would be helpful if you knew the money markets. Not in any great detail, but it would give you some idea of what is likely to be profitable and what is not. Now the media group I've just taken over…' He leant past her to flick back to the main menu so that he could begin running through details of the finances of the various companies under the one umbrella and as he did so she felt him brush against her breast. She drew away, a little shaken at the fleeting contact.

‘Generally speaking, you won't be needed to accompany me to meetings.' He moved away from the desk and chose instead to pull up a chair so that his eyes could remain safely fixed on the same level as hers. ‘However, you
will
need to check every e-mail I get when I'm not in the office and I get quite a number. In time, you should be able to deal with a good proportion of those.'

Shannon, turning to look at him, was a little disconcerted to find him quite so close to her. Close enough for her to distinguish the various shades of dark brown
and black in his eyes and to breathe in the musky scent of male body, unimpeded by any colognes.

‘Now,' he said finally, sitting back and pushing himself away from the desk, ‘any questions?'

Shannon swivelled her chair to face him. ‘About work?'

He looked at her wryly. ‘No. I thought we might just have a general discussion about world affairs.'

‘Don't you get a little lonely stuck out in this office on your own?'

‘
Lonely?
Don't I get
a little lonely
?'

‘Yes. You know…surely you don't spend the entire day focused on work. You must need to chat now and again…'

‘Chat?'

‘To people? Maybe when you break off to have a cup of coffee?'

‘When I break off to have a cup of coffee, reds, I actually normally remain at my desk and more often than not I devote my attention to paperwork while I'm having it,' he said crushingly, and she nodded.

‘Then how do you know what's going on in your company? You know, if you don't get around and hear the gossip on the ground floor?'

‘Hear the gossip?'

‘Well, you
did
ask me whether I had any questions,' Shannon trailed off, when he continued to stare at her as though she were crazy. ‘As far as the actual
work
goes, I think I can handle it. I might be a bit slow to start with, of course. Until I find my feet.'

‘I shouldn't think it'll take you very long,' he said. ‘I've told Linda in Personnel to expect you some time before lunch.' With a swift, graceful movement, he stood up and eyed her blandly. ‘Right now I shall be busy with
meetings, so I probably won't see you until tomorrow. Linda will fill you in on all of this, but if you're interested, there's an office restaurant on the ground floor. I suspect that's where all the chat and gossip occurs.'

‘Perhaps
you
should eat there more often in that case,' Shannon said with a slow grin.

‘Actually,' he threw at her over his shoulder, as he slipped on his jacket and adjusted his tie, ‘I do. Whenever I get the chance.'

He walked towards the door, then paused before turning to look at her. ‘I think it might be a good idea if you met Eleanor. Carrie's been staying on late to accommodate me over the past two months, but now that you're here we can work something out so that she can get back to her social life.'

‘I thought the babysitting arrangement was more on an…occasional basis,' Shannon faltered. ‘And what about
my
social life?'

‘Oh.' He walked slowly towards her, rubbing his chin with his hand as though startled at the concept of her having a social life. ‘I thought you had come to London to nurse a broken heart. Don't you spend all your free time pining?'

Shannon flushed at his blatant and cheerful disregard for boundaries. ‘Actually, if you read any self-help book, you'll discover that women with broken hearts immediately rush off to cultivate new and exciting social lives,' she replied tartly. She wondered whether dinner dates with Sandy constituted a new and exciting social life. Having come to London, she had quickly realised that the novel taste of freedom from her brothers and sisters and extended family members also carried a downside. Namely, that there was no handy cushion to protect her from her nights spent on her own. She went
out with Sandy and with some of the other staff who worked at Alfredo's and was gradually building up a social life of sorts, but it was hardly humming.