Desk Job (London Menage Book 2) (2 page)

Chapter One

Stella

“Hey gorgeous.” I slipped my hand through the crook of Sian’s arm and grinned. “Hope you’re ready for some serious bargain hunting.”

“Definitely, and lunch, I’m starving.”

“Shall we eat first then?” I pointed to Poro, a favorite of ours on The King’s Road.

“Good plan.”

We pushed through the glass doors and were directed to a table at the back of the restaurant. The waiter brought us a jug of iced water with lime slices floating in it and two long, thin menus.

“I thought you might have eaten with Coben,” I said.

“No.” She shrugged and studied the tasty dishes being offered. “I had to go to the shop this morning and collect my phone. I’d left it there by mistake. Then when I came back he made other plans.”

“Other plans?”

“Yes, he’s got an old military friend coming round to see him. I think they’re going to spark up the BBQ.”

I was surprised. I’d known Coben for years, ever since he’d swept into Sian’s life and stolen her heart, but I’d never heard him mention anyone from his days in the Air Force. “Oh, who’s that then?”

“Well,” she leaned forward, a slight frown marring her brow, “it’s all a bit strange.”

“Tell me more.”

“I tattooed this guy last week, he’s hot, like … seriously hot.”

“Got a girlfriend?” I asked full of hope. My love life had been either disastrous or non-existent for too long.

“I don’t think so. Sounds like he’s an all work and no play kind of bloke.”

“Dull.” I rolled my eyes.

“Anything but dull, I can tell you.”

“You’ve really got me curious now.”

“So am I. We went for dinner at one of Coben’s business associates, really nice people, and this guy, Ed his name is, was there, by chance.”

“And…?”

“And Coben was so weird around him. I’d never seen anything like it. They acted as though they didn’t know each other but it turns out they did, or rather do.”

I poured us each a glass of water. “What do you mean?”

“They served together, years ago.”

“And lost touch?”

“Yes. Ed’s still in the Air Force.”

“So why would they pretend not to know each other?” I was confused.

“That’s what I want to know. I’m sure there’s more to it. Whatever friendship they had, there’s something Coben is being shady about.”

“I thought you two told each other everything.”

“We do.” She took a sip of her drink. “But you know what it’s like. Everyone has a history, baggage.”

“And you think Coben has history with this guy?” I wasn’t sure what Sian was getting at. Coben wasn’t gay, he was one of the toughest, manliest blokes I knew. “A
romantic
history?”

She laughed. “I don’t know. It’s silly really. But there’s definitely more to it.”

“You’ll have to do a bit of investigating then.”

“I reckon I will.” Her eyes twinkled wickedly. “But seeing them, sitting at the table next to each other the other night… Bloody hell, they’d be one hot man sandwich to get in the middle of.”

I laughed, a lovely bubble of release that burst from my chest. Sian, my best friend, always managed to make a shopping date fun. “Let’s hope you get to be in that sandwich then.”

“A girl can hope.” She winked.

“What can I get you ladies?” a waiter asked, looking between us.

Sian ordered fishcakes and I went for a chicken and avocado salad. I’d been good all week and if I could stick to my allotted calories today, then I’d have a cheat day tomorrow.

“Is that all you want?” Sian asked. “It’s my treat.”

“No, no, we’ll go halves.”

“No way. I invited you out.”

I frowned.

“No arguing.” She gave me a stern look.

“Okay … thank you. But a salad is fine. I’ll probably end up eating a tub of ice cream later in front of the TV.”

She smiled. Clearly glad I’d agreed to her plan.

And I was grateful for her offering to pay. I’d be window shopping today. Cash had been tight since I’d lost my job a month ago. It was through no fault of my own—the company had folded. But still, once I’d used up the rainy day fund I had stashed aside, I’d have to take on a waitress position or find bar work—not something that appealed to me.

My phone trilled to life and I fished it out from my handbag. I glanced at the screen. “Do you mind if I take this?” I said to Sian. “It’s the agency.”

“No, go ahead.”

I swiped the screen and answered the call. “Stella Wright speaking.”

“Hello Stella. This is Martin from People For Jobs, Jobs For People.”

“Hi Martin.”

“Sorry to bother you on a Saturday.”

“That’s okay.” They could bother me any time if it meant I’d get a job. “Have you found something for me?”

“Possibly. There’s an opening at a marketing company for a personal assistant. I think it would suit you down to the ground. It’s a perfect location for your home address plus you have all the necessary skills.”

“Great.”

“The only thing is they’re desperate to get someone started. Interview would be on Monday morning.”

“I can do that.” I did a thumbs up sign to Sian.

She grinned.

“Excellent. I’ll email you all the details, is that okay?”

“Absolutely fine. And thank you for thinking of me.”

“You’re welcome and good luck.”

I clicked the phone off and dropped it into my bag. “Well that’s a result. Interview Monday. It was worth signing with that new agency this week.”

“Absolutely.” She held up her glass. “Here’s to a successful interview, a good pay packet and a sexy new boss with a nice arse you can ogle.”

We both laughed.

“And after this,” Sian said, wafting her menu. “We’ll have to get you a fancy new outfit to wear for the interview.”

“I’m sure I’ve got—”

“Yes, I know you’ve got plenty of work outfits, just some new shoes then, and some sexy stockings.” She paused. “Perhaps a sheer, silky blouse too. You’ll get the job on looks.”

“Hey, I like to think I have PA skills to my merit. I have been doing it for years.”

“I know, but no harm thrashing the competition by making the most of those awesome curves and gorgeous legs of yours.”

A warm feeling settled inside me. Sian always made me feel good, and I didn’t know what I’d do without her. We’d been friends for years and even though she had Coben, her husband, to think about, she always made time for me. Other friends I’d had ditched their single mates once they paired up and settled down, but not Sian, she was a keeper, and it seemed she thought I was too.

But it would be nice to pair up and settle down myself. Find someone to enjoy trips to the theater with, nice meals, cuddle up with on rainy Sundays and binge watch boxed sets on TV.

“And sexy boss or not, I need a job,” I said. “Pretty sharpish.”

“And we need that drink.” She stretched her neck to look over my shoulder. “Ah, here it comes.”

Two glasses of sparkling wine were placed in front of us, the fizz misting over the rim.

“To new jobs,” Sian said, raising her glass.

“And mysterious new men,” I added with a giggle.

****

The weekend sauntered by. The weather was warm which seemed to inject laziness into me.

I cleaned my apartment, added some small flowering plants to a tub I had on my miniscule balcony, and caught up with reading I’d been meaning to do—a lovely new romance book by one of my favorite authors.

Monday came round and I spent longer than I’d planned straightening the seams on the new stockings I’d bought. Sian had insisted on treating me to them as a good luck present, saying they’d work just right with my black patent heels, black pencil skirt and sheer sky-blue blouse. She was, of course, right. They’d turned a smart outfit into one with just a little bit of sass, and there was no harm in that. Subtle sass I could work with.

I added a slim silver necklace with a heart pendent that hung just above my cleavage and swept my hair into a twist on the crown of my head. I then decided to splash out on a cab rather than battling The Tube. The last thing I wanted was to arrive at the interview all hot and sweaty and with damp patches on the underarms of my top. No, I needed to give the impression of smooth efficiency, an unruffled demeanor, and someone who could pre-empt a busy person’s needs.

The offices of Wainwright and Bramon were set in a tall building constructed of steel and blue-tinted glass. I stepped through the revolving doors, my heels clicking on the hard tiled floor, and made my way up to a reception desk.

I noticed a man wearing glasses glance my way. His attention lingered. Yes, I looked good. I had the type of round hips that were impossible not to roll as I walked and now, wearing high heels, that sway was even more pronounced.

A shiver of nerves went up my spine. I hadn’t always felt so confident about my shape but after a scary year where I’d realized I wasn’t eating enough and had become way too thin, I’d bucked up. A course of sessions with a therapist and some strategies that helped me get to a healthy weight again, put paid to that problem.

And I intended for it to stay that way. Making myself ill to look a certain way was not how I wanted to live my life.

“Hello,” I said to the receptionist. “I’m here for Wainwright and Bramon.”

“Yes, twenty-sixth floor. The elevator is just there.” She jabbed her pen to the right.

“Thank you.” I headed for the lift, checking my hair for loose strands.

As I rode to the twenty-sixth floor, I went over again what I’d learned about the company I was hoping to work for. Owned by two men, Andre Bramon and Tristan Wainwright, it was an up and coming marketing firm with an impressive list of clients. Fifteen people were employed in a range of roles and from what I gathered, the joint owners were very much hands on in the day-to-day running of the company.

It was also very convenient for me, only a short cab ride or three stops on The Tube. Whatever the weather, I’d be able to get to work and it wouldn’t cost me an arm and a leg either.

I pulled in a deep breath as the elevator slowed. This was it. Time to do my stuff. This job would be the answer to a whole host of rather pressing problems.

The doors slid open and the scent of new carpet and polish filled my nose. I stepped out, my heels now quiet on the soft flooring. The lights were muted, not harsh like the ones in the reception area and the furniture was made of rich, dark oak. It had a nice feel to it, luxury, contemporary, but also comfortable.

A woman with a tight blonde bun and black glasses paused typing and looked up. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here for an interview. Stella Wright.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” She stood. “If you’d like to come this way, Andre is waiting for you.”

Andre? Did that mean I was to be interviewed by one of the partners?

I quashed a knot of nerves. That was fine. Of course he’d want to interview me. I would after all, if I got the job, be running his life Monday to Friday, nine-to-five.

I followed the young woman past several offices, all of which had their doors closed. I then came to one that was open an inch.

The woman knocked.

“Come in,” called a deep voice.

“Stella Wright is here. For the eleven o’clock interview.”

“Yes, yes, send her in.”

I glanced at my watch. I wasn’t late, in fact I was ten minutes early, but somehow I felt as though I’d kept him waiting.

“Please, go through.” The woman stepped out of the way and indicated the office.

“Thanks.” I gripped the strap of my bag a little tighter and wondered if maybe I’d gone over the top with my outfit. She wore plain black trousers, flat shoes and a shapeless red top.

Stepping into the office, I paused for a moment to let my eyes adjust to the dim lighting. Blinds were half pulled at the windows and the dark furniture appeared nearly black. Sitting behind a huge desk was a man in a suit. He had blond hair and his face was lit by the computer screen in front of him.

“Ah, hello,” he said, standing and walking around the desk. “You must be Stella.”

“Yes. Mr Bramon, right?”

He smiled, a warm easy grin that went right up to his blue eyes. “Spot on. Please, sit.” He gestured to one of the low bucket chairs in front of the desk and to my surprise, took the one next to it rather than heading back around to where he’d been sitting.

I settled myself, set my bag on the floor, and crossed my legs. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, something light and fresh, a little peppery maybe.

“I’ve just been through your CV,” he said, folding his arms and creasing his suit jacket. “I see you worked at Naddra.”

“Yes, for several years. I was personal assistant to the human resources director. It’s a shame the company went into liquidation. I was very happy there.”