Desk Job (London Menage Book 2) (8 page)

Chapter Seven

Monday morning dawned and another warm day looked set to shine over London.

I opted for a pale blue summer dress with a tight white belt and shoes that matched the dress. I slipped a white cardigan over my shoulders just in case the breeze was cool.

Arriving at the office half an hour early, I was surprised to hear a voice coming from Tristan’s office.

The door had been closed all of the previous week while he’d been away on business, but now it was ajar.

I set my bag in the bottom drawer of my desk and draped the cardigan over the back of my seat. My desk was positioned between Tristan and Andre’s offices in such a way that I could see into each of their rooms and also whenever people approached.

I booted up my laptop, then went to put the kettle on in the small kitchenette for staff use. I wondered if Tristan was as keen on a coffee in the morning as Andre and I were. As I waited for the water to come to the boil, I hoped that everything was going smoothly for Andre. I’d booked the whole trip for him, the hotel, the car, the conference room and the table to take his clients out to dinner that evening. Perhaps I’d drop him an email and make sure he had everything he needed.

Wandering back to my desk with two coffees, I noticed Tristan’s office was quiet. He must have finished his telephone conversation. I decided it was a good time to introduce myself.

I set one coffee on my desk, then rapped my knuckles on his door.

“Come in.”

He didn’t look up from behind his huge desk, just continued to tap away on his computer.

His hair was coal-black and thick, he’d already discarded his suit jacket and his shirt was pale gray with a darker gray tie.

“Good morning,” I said. “I’m Stella, the new personal assistant.”

“Oh yes, Andre mentioned you.” He glanced at me, then away, then back to me.

His phone rang. “Tristan Wainwright,” he snapped into it, still looking at me. “Ah, yes, I have that right here, hang on.” His attention shifted and he appeared to be searching for information on his computer.

I walked over to his desk and set the coffee on a coaster to his right.

“Yes, here it is. Do you want the figures individually or as a whole?” Pause. “Okay, let’s get it done then.” He hunched over a bit more to peer closer at the screen. “You start.”

I didn’t know if he’d noticed the coffee or not, but it was clear he was absorbed in whatever it was he was doing with the person on the other end of the line. I headed back to my desk feeling a little flat.

I’d been looking forward to meeting my other boss. I’d heard so much about him from Andre. I couldn’t deny I was intrigued. And yes, Andre had been right when he’d said Tristan was handsome, he was, very, but also intense, consumed, entrenched in his work.

I had plenty to be getting on with and the morning flew by. The previous PA had a strange filing system that I wanted to set to my own method plus there were lots of upcoming meetings and conferences in both Andre and Tristan’s diaries that needed attention.

What I did notice was that Andre had been correct in saying Tristan barely got bothered by the staff. In fact, when Jenny wanted something from him she didn’t even bother knocking on his door, she just handed it to me to pass on for him.

I wasn’t sure if it was because they were all learning my new system or if his brisk manner put them off and they were glad of a messenger.

By lunchtime, I had several things I needed to work out with him. There were some parts of an imminent trip that I couldn’t second-guess, I needed to know what he wanted organized.

Again I knocked on the door.

Again he didn’t look up as I stepped in.

“Do you have a minute?” I asked.

“Not really.”

I pulled in a breath and beat down a wave of irritation. “Are you likely to have time today to go through details about your trip to Ireland?”

He shoved at his sleeve and glanced at his watch. “I doubt it. I need to go next door and catch up with Andre about a few things in a minute.”

“He’s in Barcelona.”

Finally, he looked up at me. A frown slashed over his brow. “Oh … yes, of course. I thought he was late in.”

“Well, he’d be very late, it’s nearly one o’clock.” I held up my notebook. “And talking of time, if I don’t get flights booked soon, there may not be any seats left.”

“What did you say your name was?”

“Stella.”

“Stella.” He drummed his fingers on the desk. “Okay, what do you need to know?”

“What time on the fifteenth do you want to fly? The meeting isn’t until the evening but do you need time when you arrive to brief the contractor?”

“Er, no, I can do that on the phone. A flight about four should be fine. Oh, and a hotel at the airport, that makes it easier for heading back the next day and if you can book a restaurant too, something bland, not Indian or Chinese.”

“Yes.” I made quick notes.

“And I’ll need a bottle of Moet to take to the CEO. It’s his birthday apparently.”

“Can you get that on duty free on the way?”

He hesitated. “Yes, good idea.” He directed his attention back at the screen.

“And these are from Jenny. If you could get to them ASAP, she said she’d be grateful.” I set the file on the desk.

“I’ll try.” He was typing furiously.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” I asked, watching the way his big fingers flew over the keyboard. There was a hint of dark hair peeking from his shirt sleeve. “Any communications or routine stuff I could take off your hands?”

“Nope.” He glanced at some documentation to his right then carried on typing.

His phone rang.

He tutted, then answered it.

I left the office. Tristan Wainwright might be most girls’ ideal man to look at but he had a long way to go in the charm department. He was at best a control freak and at worst just plain rude.

Ten minutes later I headed out of the office and picked up a mozzarella and tomato panini for my lunch. I didn’t bother asking Tristan if he wanted anything. When I got back to my desk, herbal tea brewing to accompany my food, I was delighted to find there was an email from Andre.

He told me it was all going well, that he hoped I liked the flowers, and Tristan wasn’t proving too difficult. He then set out a list of several things he needed me to give my attention to during the afternoon.

I replied with a professional slant to my tone—even if I had sucked his cock yesterday morning, it didn’t mean I had to be all simpering and girly. I didn’t mention Tristan.

After hitting send, I set to my long list of tasks. The office had a sense of studiousness to it, the atmosphere more subdued than it had been the week before. I wondered if that was the Tristan effect.

In a way it was a good thing, it meant I wasn’t disturbed with having to fend off staff eager to spend time with my busy boss or cope with him constantly asking me to do things.

By mid-afternoon, I made him another cup of coffee and took it in. I didn’t speak and neither did he.

It would be the last coffee I made him.

But despite his dour ways, nothing could detract from my happiness. My weekend date with Andre had been wonderful. His smile, the sparkle in his eyes, his hot body, had all hit the spot perfectly for me and I was now craving time with him, another chance to feel him inside me.

As was often the case, I worked late because there was lots to do and I liked to feel in control of my workload. It wouldn’t be necessary once I got used to the job and found my feet a little more, but for now an extra hour here and there wouldn’t matter.

But it had been more than an extra hour—when I looked at my phone, I realized it was nearly eight o’clock. The office was empty except for Tristan.

I shut down my computer and pushed my to-do list to one side. It would all have to wait until the morning. I pulled on my cardigan and reached for my purse. Perhaps I’d stop at the wine bar opposite the entrance to the office block and have a quick glass of pinot before I jumped on the Tube.

Mmm, good idea.

I put my head around the door to Tristan’s office. He was standing by the window, staring at the screen on his phone.

“It’s eight, so I’m heading home now.”

“Okay.” He turned. “See you tomorrow…” He circled his finger in the air and frowned.

“Stella.”

“Yes, that’s right. Stella. See you tomorrow.”

“You will.”

I turned, feeling thankful that although Tristan was a self-obsessed grump, his partner was the complete opposite. For all of Tristan’s briskness, Andre had equal amounts of tenderness.

If I were just Tristan’s personal assistant, I wasn’t sure how long I’d last.

The wine bar was busy and it took me several minutes to claim a stool and order a drink. I opted for a large and after I took the first sip I checked out the clientele. Mainly suits. City guys who worked hard and played hard, I knew the type.

There were a few women too, in groups, chatting. It reminded me that I needed to catch up with Sian and see how she was getting on with Coben’s new friend, what was his name? Edward?

“Excuse me.”

I turned to my right. A tall guy with a long face was grinning at me and holding up a near empty pint glass.

“Do you have a Band-Aid?” he asked, his beery breath washing over me.

“Er … pardon?”

His grin broadened. “'Cause I scraped my knee falling for you, baby.”

Seriously?

I rolled my eyes and took another sip of my drink, hoping I was giving off not-interested-vibes.

“That was a good chat up line.” He downed his last mouthful of beer. “Admit it.”

I declined to answer.

“Hey, girl. Is your name Wi-Fi?” His shoulder bumped mine and he continued to grin manically.

I shifted and glanced at the barman who had his back to me.

“Because…” he said in a slurred voice. “We have a connection.”

“I don’t think so.” I gestured to my drink. “The only connection I have this evening is with this glass of wine so if you don’t mind…”

“Oh, I get it, you want me to walk past again because you don’t believe in love at first sight.”

“What?”

He chuckled as though highly amused at himself. “Can I get you another drink?”

“No thank you.” I wondered about getting my phone out and calling Sian. That would give him the hint surely.

“Hey, mate, pour me another.” He held up his glass to the barman who took it and began to replenish the booze.

I glanced around the busy place wondering if there were another seat I could move to. No such luck. What had I done to deserve this? All I’d wanted was a peaceful glass of wine.

“Come on, darling, cheer up.”

“I don’t need to cheer up. I’m fine. Well I would be if you’d leave me alone.” He clearly needed it spelled out. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to drink my wine in peace.”

He slung his arm over my shoulder and pulled me against him. “Don’t be like that, I’ll show you a good time, hell, a great fucking time if you know what I mean.”

“Hey, leave me alone.” I shoved at him. “Before I call the police.”

He moved much faster than I’d expected him to and I realized it was because someone else had gripped the back of his shirt and propelled him toward the wall.

His shoulders hit it with a loud
whump
. Several people stepped out of the way as they turned to watch.

The man who’d come to my rescue had wide shoulders and dark hair. I recognized him.

Tristan Wainwright

He had the creep who’d been hassling me pinned up against a wall. His forearm was lodged beneath the drunk man’s chin, and the other hand hovered as if ready to block an alcohol-fueled punch.

“Get off me,” the drunk slurred.

“The lady said she wasn’t interested. Why didn’t you take the hint?”

“Is she your woman or sommat?”

“That makes no difference. You need to learn to take no for an answer.”

“Fuck off.” He went to take a swing at Tristan’s head.

Tristan easily batted him away then appeared to pin him with even more force.

The man groaned and shut his eyes.

“Next time a woman asks to be left alone you’re going to walk away, right?”

“Yeah, right.”

“Hey come on, leave it now.” The barman leaned over and jabbed his finger toward the two men. “I don’t want trouble kicking off.”

My heart pounded. What the hell was Tristan doing here? And more to the point, why did he feel he needed to defend my honor?

“What are you going to do next time a woman asks to be left in peace?” Tristan said harshly.

The man kind of spluttered, then said, “Walk away, okay, I’ll walk away.”

“Which is just what you’re going to do now.” Tristan stepped back, releasing the man.