‘I hardly think Mr Robertson would be so unprofessional as to bandy nicknames in any business letter thanking you for your interest,’ Astra tilted her chin to tell him haughtily.
Sayre Baxendale’s eyes narrowed for a brief moment, letting her know—as if she cared—that he wasn’t too enamoured by her uppity manner. Then that mocking look was back. ‘Neither did he,’ he drawled. ‘Apparently you were recommended to Ronald Cummings via Veronica Edwards, through a friend of hers who works for Yarroll Finance. The same friend passed on the good news to Veronica that North Pole Northcott no longer worked for the company. Tell me,’ he went on, retribution his in full for her daring to have come the high and mighty with him, ‘what are you doing now you’ve been dismissed for incompetence?’
Had he deliberately been trying to goad her, he did a splendid job. ‘You’ve been misinformed!’ Astra snapped, angry pink colour flushing her normally pale cheeks. ‘When I found some of the people I was called upon to deal with too obnoxious for words I resigned.’ Chew on that!
She had as good as called him obnoxious—it glanced off him. ‘You’re still in the same line of business?’ he enquired silkily. ‘You are working, I take it?’
Odious—obnoxious was too good for him! ‘I’ve had two good offers,’ she took great delight in being able to inform him. He wasn’t to know that both offers were in the family, so to speak, or that both offers of a job were for the one firm.
‘You’ve accepted neither?’ Dark, all-assessing eyes studied her. Why did she feel she’d love to poke him in the eye? She’d never had such tendencies before!
‘I’m being selective,’ she replied coolly, in control of her anger once more. Her control didn’t stay around for long.
How could it? He strained it to the limits when loftily he suggested, ‘You obviously earned enough commission in your last job not to need to take another job for a while.’
What was it about this man? Astra took a long, steadying breath. She’d be hanged if she’d tell him she had private means. ‘Obviously,’ she agreed, her temper straining at the leash. She opened the door—to the devil with him; she was going home.
Before she could so much as take a step outside, however, Baxendale was there again with his comments. Though she had to admit she was a touch baffled by his change of subject when he said, ‘You and Alford seem on very close terms?’
What on earth had her cousin Greville Alford got to do with any of this? Astra threw Baxendale a look of intense dislike. ‘We are,’ she replied coldly. ‘Very close.’ And, not giving him a chance to get another remark in, she went swiftly through the door and marched over the tarmac drive.
Honestly! That man! Never had any man upset her the way he so easily did. Insufferable swine! The next time Greville invited her to a party, she’d ask to see the guest list first. If Sayre Baxendale’s name were on it, Greville would be going on his own!
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