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Authors: Jane Corrie

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BOOK: Peacock's Walk
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about that when you came to see me,' she added in a low voice.

He did not answer her for a second or so, and when Jenny glanced up at him she was surprised by the flash of fury in his eyes. 'The contract states that all staff are to be retained, if I remember rightly,' he said savagely. 'I made a concession there for which you ought to be grateful.'

Grateful! Jenny wanted to shout the word at him. She'd be grateful if he left her alone. He had enough hotels, didn't he? Why should he want Peacock's Walk? 'Thank you,' she managed to get out between clenched teeth.

'Will it be so repugnant working for me?' he asked softly, yet goadingly. 'It won't be so very different from the job you used to have with Peacock —er—workwise, that is. There won't be any business trips, I'm afraid,' he added meaningly. 'We've got that side of it over with, haven't we?'

Jenny's small hands clenched into fists. He didn't have to bring that up to make sure she understood the position. She did not answer. There was nothing she could say anyway, nothing that he would understand.

`I'm not,' he went on smoothly, 'saying that time won't alter the situation.'

Jenny's eyes had been centred on her hands, but now they flew to his, and the incredulity in hers made him smile again. She didn't care for that smile any more than she had cared for the other one he had given her, or the way his narrowed eyes were studying her slight figure.

 

'You're a very attractive woman, Jenny,' he said softly. 'I might just decide to kick over the traces with you.' He gave a nonchalant shrug as he added meaningly, 'Who knows?'

Her eyes never left his face, even though she felt the flush spread over her features. There was nothing 'like putting it on the line, she thought furiously. It wasn't enough for him to make her feel cheap, he had to emphasize the fact that he thought her a go-getter as well, and had the temerity to dangle a golden carrot in front of her!

Jenny sent a silent thank-you to Malcolm for leaving her some security. He had been right about Mark Chanter—he did use women as playthings, she thought scathingly; if she had ever needed proof of this, then she had just received it. She could, and would, get out. The staff were taken care of, so there was no worry there. Her head was held high as she replied steadily, 'I'm afraid I have no wish to resurrect the past. I'm flattered, of course, by your remarks.' Her lovely eyes glinted with green sparks as she added significantly, 'I didn't enjoy the last chapter in our romantic skirmish, so I'll pass this time, if you don't mind.'

For one frightening moment it looked as if he would yank her out of her chair, but her beating heart calmed when she saw him sit down again slowly, but his eyes never left hers as he said softly, 'You rather underrated me, didn't you? But time will teach you not to make the same mistake again. Who's the, current fancy?' he shot out at her.

Jenny stared at him and almost gasped at his

 

audacity. She could speak the truth and say there was no one, but on second thoughts he might leave her alone if there was someone else in the running. This thought, however, was soon replaced by the certain surety that he knew very well that there was no one; she had made sure of that by rebuffing any would-be suitors. 'I don't see that that's any of your business,' she contented herself with.

`Ah, but I do want my staff to be happy,' he replied smoothly. 'I'm rather partial to the personal approach, you know. It makes for good relations all round.'

'I'm sure that whoever takes over from me will be happy to know that,' Jenny got out, willing herself to stay calm. 'I presume it is the secretarial position you had in mind for me?' She paused at the look of mockery in his eyes as she said this and could guess his thoughts. A feeling of complete helplessness passed over her, and with it a wish to hit back hard and hurt this man as much as he had hurt her. It was a feeling totally alien to her nature, bringing a lost, uncertain backlash in its wake. All her previous values had disappeared in a puff of smoke. She had never hurt anyone before, at least, not consciously so, but just give her a chance to get her own back on this man and she would jump at it! 'I only agreed to stay on because Mr Hawter specifically asked me to,' she resumed slowly. 'At your direction, I suppose?' she asked in a tight hard voice, the dislike she felt for him plainly visible in her eyes as she looked at him.

He gave her a complacent nod, as if to say she

 

ought to have known this, and Jenny received an inner sense of shock as she digested the fact that her open hostility towards him did not infuriate him; if anything it seem
ed to cause him some gratifica
tion
, and she was doubly grateful to providence that she was not dependent in any way on him, because there would be precious little understanding between them.

'You wanted all the staff retained,' he answered smoothly. 'Under those conditions I deemed it wiser to keep you on as well. It might have caused a few difficulties otherwise.' He gave her a speculative look. 'They're very attached to you, aren't they?' he observed caustically.

Jenny privately conceded this point, although it was only the older staff who felt they owed allegiance to her, and it was they who held the most responsible positions in the hotel. Looking at it from that point of view it made sense. Even so, Mark must have known what her reaction would have been when she found out that he owned the hotel. It struck her that he had gone to a lot of trouble to ensure the smooth running of the hotel, and she wondered why. It was not as if he couldn't replace any member of staff at a day's notice; he had enough hotel staff at his command to cover any such vacancies—including secretarial staff, she thought scathingly.

'I'm sure,' he went on carefully, 'that when you think things over, you will retract what I presume to be your notice. You signed a contract, remember, and if you fail to honour it, I am under no obliga-

 

tion to
fulfill
my part of it. In other words, Miss Grange, if you go, so does the rest of the staff, and I shall return to my original plans in keeping such staff as I think suitable for the work entailed.'

The indignation Jenny felt at this pompous ultimatum was soon replaced by a dawning
realization
of the clever tactics now being used on her—and she had very nearly fallen for it! He had quite deliberately riled her into reacting in just the way she had reacted. He knew she didn't need the money, so the job was not essential to her, and had taken great pains to outline the future for her as his secretary —for she would be his secretary; no manager would be appointed here, as was the usual procedure in his other hotels, instinctively she was certain of this, just as surely as she was now certain of the reason why he had insisted on retaining her. It was simple really, and she ought to have seen it coming. Tony, she thought sadly, hadn't been all that far wrong when he had said she couldn't see the wood for the trees. She drew in a deep breath—it wasn't a wood, it was a great forest—no, forest wasn't the right definition, more akin to a jungle where the tiger stalked its prey. The tiger was sitting right in front of her, waiting to pounce at any given moment. She shivered at the thought, and told herself she was being fanciful.

She looked back at him and found, as she had expected, that he was watching her closely, waiting for her to throw the job in his face regardless of the consequences of her actions. He would assume that her pride would force her to leave, but he didn't

 

really know her—he never had. Pride was something she could do without when it concerned the welfare of the people she loved. It was her pride that Mark had gambled on—a ploy that would have worked with anyone else, herself included, if it hadn't concerned others.

There was a little consolation for her in the fact that he was about to find that his strategy in getting rid of not only her, but the older staff that he had not wanted to keep on, had suffered a severe setback.

Her head was held high as her wide grey-green eyes met his hard grey stare unflinchingly as she replied haughtily, 'It seems I must thank you for reminding me of my responsibilities. Under the circumstances, I have no option but to stay on.'

Her gaze remained fixed on his face, hoping to witness the fury this decision brought, but there was no alteration in his expression, although when he answered, Jenny caught a hint of mockery in his eyes—a challenge maybe? she wondered. Her lips set in a firm line. He could be as obnoxious as he liked, it wouldn't get him anywhere. She was not as soft as she had been two years ago, and if he dared to even attempt to 'kick over the traces' as he had put it, with her, then he would soon be acquainted of this fact.

As if sensing her thought, he said softly, 'Don't worry, I'm not short of feminine company at the moment.'

To her fury, Jenny felt herself flush, and to cover her confusion, she snapped out, 'Are there any other

 

arrangements you'd like made?' adding meaningly, `for our guests.'

Mark Chanter's mouth quirked slightly at the corners, as if regretting the sudden change of conversation. 'It all seems in order,' he remarked dryly, 'for which you have my congratulations. I like you like that,' he shot out at her, catching her unawares as she made a few notes on the notepad she had picked up ready to resume her secretarial duties.

Her flush deepened as she replied caustically, 'As you once said, I am a good secretary and will, I hope, continue to be, in spite of the changed circumstances. One thing I would ask you to bear in mind, and that is that our relationship should remain a business one. Nothing else is sought, or indeed, wanted.' -

Mark's eyes narrowed at .this, and he replied harshly, 'Aren't you meeting your fences a little early? I'm not likely to make the same mistake again, if that's what you're referring to.' His glance flickered over her, taking in her soft cashmere sweater of a shade of green that highlighted her eyes, and passed on from her neatly tailored grey skirt to her shapely nyloned legs and her small feet encased in grey moccasins. 'Peacock must have had quite a lot going for him where you were concerned,' he added pointedly, 'but the perks helped too, didn't they? One mustn't forget that. At least you know where you are with me. I'm not likely to add to that little nest egg he left you. Yes, Miss Grange—ours will be a business relationship, and don't go back to the clinging vine type, will you? In

 

case you're ever tempted to do so in the future, I've gone off that act.'

He pointed to the chair from which Jenny had risen before making her way towards the door. She didn't have to stand this kind of barbed torture; he said he had nothing else for her to make a note of, and she saw no reason to stay. 'Sit down, please, I haven't finished. You really must remember who's calling the tune now, and this is business,' he added harshly. 'It was you who brought the personal angle into the limelight, remember. Now that we've got that straight, there's a few other things I wanted to discuss with you, such as future policies. Peacock's Walk is now under Chanter Administration and there are certain rules I shall expect adhered to.'

It was no easy task for Jenny to concentrate on the rules he was reeling out to her, let alone keep the notebook steady in her trembling hands, but she somehow managed it, and hoped her concentration, now centred on the page she was covering with her neat shorthand, would hide the conflict raging inside her, willing herself to remember the reason why she had accepted the job, and as unpalatable as it was obviously going to be, why she had to see it through.

CHAPTER THREE

A SHORT while after Mark had left her, Jenny sat alone in the office that had once been her domain, but would from now on be shared, if that was the right word, she thought unhappily, with the august person of Mark Chanter. That he expected her to revert to her original role, to not only take over the secretarial duties but to share the same office as her boss, as she had done with Malcolm, he had left her in no doubt by obliquely remarking that he presumed the other desk was about somewhere; and would she arrange to have it reinstated back to its previous position.

This meant having a word with Rose, for the desk had been allotted to reception shortly after Jenny had taken over the running of the hotel. At this thought she winced, for it brought to mind the next worry on her agenda—that of telling the staff that they were now part of the Chanter group, and posting up a list of the rules they would now be expected to adhere to.

Hard on the heels of this miserable thought came another one even more unpalatable than the last one. Tony had to be told of the identity of the new

 

owner of Peacock's Walk, and then Dodie would have to be put into the picture. She swallowed as she envisaged Dodie's amazed reaction at the news she had to impart to her.

Of Tony's reaction she hardly dared think! He could, and very probably would, take her to task for not foreseeing what had happened, although how she could have done was beyond her present reasoning.

It did not occur to her that the delicate task of explaining the position to the staff would be carried out by the man himself, and when thinking about it afterwards, Jenny ought to have known this. He did not believe in delegating such responsibilities to others. The staff were now under his direction, and he lost no time in enlightening them on this fact.

This was related to Jenny by a scowling Tony, who joined her just before lunch as she was still debating whether she ought to call a meeting of staff, or whether to see them individually, and in the case of the older staff, reassure them that their jobs were not at risk and that they would keep the positions they held. She had just decided on the latter course, when Tony stalked into the office after giving a short perfunctory knock.

BOOK: Peacock's Walk
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