He quickly whipped out the cheque he had already written and laid it on the desk in front of her.
‘Now hang on, we had a deal. I’m not in the habit of punching people, but I grew up with three brothers and I can look after myself if need be. I attacked you and your staff yesterday because I had been kidnapped and I thought my life was in danger, as you are well aware, but I can assure you this sort of thing doesn’t normally happen.’
He couldn’t help the smug smile from spreading on his lips, she had walked straight into his trap.
‘Oh but Miss Franklin it does. You were fired from your last job for punching your boss in the face and breaking his nose. He said it was because he told you off for poor work, constantly being late and chatting on the phone to friends. Now that is definitely not the sort of person I’m prepared to have working for me here. So I suggest you take that cheque and get out.’
‘I punched my boss in the nose because he was a dirty little pervert who shoved his finger up my arse when I was changing the paper in the photocopier.’
The pencil he was holding snapped in his hand.
‘You don’t want me here and I get that. What I did yesterday, blackmailing you into giving me a job was underhand and I’m sorry. I would never have gone to the papers or the police with my story. I could never damage your business as I know how much it hurts to build up something you love and have it snatched away from you. But if you really don’t want me here then I’ll go.’
He watched as she moved to the window and slipped her feet into a pair of smart black heels. She pulled her coat on and left, the cheque remained untouched on his desk.
He felt like scum.
He swore loudly as he screwed up the cheque and hurled it into the bin. He got to his feet and hurried to the door. She was already on her bike, an old rusty machine complete with a faded white wicker basket and was just cycling past. He called to her but she ignored him. He stepped out in front of her bike and she slammed on the brakes and would have toppled off if he hadn’t grabbed her. At the feel of her hot skin against his own, he felt his gut clench. He quickly released her.
‘We had a deal Miss Franklin, and I don’t go back on deals. I thought it would be easier for both of us if I gave you three thousand pounds now, but if you won’t accept a payoff then the job still stands.’
She looked at him as if she really didn’t want the job now.
‘Look, when I saw why you had been fired from your previous job I made a rash decision about the sort of person you were. I didn’t realise you were sexually assaulted. I presume you told the police.’
‘No, why would I? My word against his, and he’s a respectable local business man. People look at me, look at my job history, look at the tattoos I have and they make their own minds up about me. You certainly did.’
‘I’m sorry.’
It was a genuine, heartfelt apology but he certainly wasn’t going to get down on bended knee and beg her to stay. And why was his mind filled with images of tattoos and where they might be?
She stared at him for a moment then got off her bike. ‘Apology accepted.’
‘Good, now let me talk you through some of the things you need to know. There’s a diary on the computer…’
‘Yeah I found that, it’s rubbish, very antiquated. I’ve implemented a new program. My diary allows people to book their slots online, it won’t allow any double bookings and they can also book provisionally if they are not sure on dates or whether this service is for them. The diary then automatically emails the office and we can then follow it up with an interview to discuss their needs. I’ve also posted a queries section onto the website so they can email us regarding any questions. Many people work nine to five and are unable to phone during the day, being able to email at eleven o’clock at night is imperative. Of course they won’t get an answer straight away but at least you’re not losing customers because they haven’t got time to ring.’
She walked back inside ahead of him as if she owned the place and he couldn’t help his eyes wandering down to her arse. He snatched his eyes away as she turned round to look at him. If she punched him in the face now he knew he totally deserved it.
‘You changed the diary without permission.’
He wasn’t sure why he was fighting that, he’d been meaning to update it for ages.
‘As Office Manager I need to be able –’
‘Since when are you Office Manager? You’re a receptionist. I wouldn’t glorify what you do here, you answer the phone, simple as that.’
‘You can call it whatever you like.’ To his annoyance she settled herself in his chair again and with a few clicks on the computer she brought up the new diary. ‘But if I’m going to work here I’m going to make a few changes about the way things are done. You cannot continue to work in squalor, that is not professional, especially when clients come round to talk about what they want. If they are trusting you with kidnapping their wife, their most prized possession, they need to see you as a professional outfit. How many men have come here to talk about kidnapping their wives and changed their minds?’
‘Our service is not for everyone.’ He sat down opposite her, feeling annoyed that he felt like the naughty boy called in front of the headmistress. Why should he have to justify his own business?
‘How many in the last year, ten, twenty?’
He gritted his teeth. ‘Probably about twenty.’
‘That’s twenty men that have come here, looked at the mouldy coffee cups and the piles of paper and thought, “There’s not a chance I’m letting these guys get their hands on my wife.”’
He’d never thought of it like that.
‘Our business does very well. Many businesses go under after the first year or so. We’ve been running for five years.’ That was mean but he wanted to regain the upper hand here.
‘You can throw that back in my face as many times as you want, but the fact is I can make a difference here. Judging by your diary you’re getting two or three bookings a week, I guarantee I can improve on that. But you need to give me free rein, I can’t keep checking up with you every five minutes when I see areas where your service can be improved.’
Her lips were a dark pink, unadorned with makeup. He wanted to kiss her, hard. He suddenly had an image of making love to her on the desk. He rubbed his hand over his eyes to try to shake that picture from his head. Where the hell had that come from? But he could still see her eyes in his head. Silvery grey eyes that were honest and determined – but hidden behind all this bravado was vulnerability.
He looked up at her and she was still staring at him.
‘I want to be kept informed of any changes you make. If I don’t like them you put them back to how things were. I won’t have this company compromised.’
‘I won’t do anything to damage this company, and I would ask that you trial any changes I make first before you decide you don’t like them, but ultimately you are the boss and if you don’t like them, of course I’ll change them. Now are we keeping the new diary for now or would you like to go back to the old version?’
She leaned back in her chair, templing her fingers, she smiled serenely at him. What he would like to do to her now was definitely not what she would call professional.
He stood up and for a split second he thought he saw her eyes dilate with desire before she turned away and started flicking through the diary.
‘The new diary is fine. I’ll put the kettle on and then we can talk through any more changes you wish to make.’
He hoped his tone was