HELEN BROOKS - The Boss's Inexperienced Secretary

‘Safe option?’ he’d drawled. ‘I don’t see you as someone who would settle for the safe option.’

She had thought about that for some moments before she’d said, ‘That was seven years ago.’

‘Ah…’ Just one syllable but she’d had the feeling he’d understood more than she would have liked.

Her mother had been cautiously enthusiastic when she’d told her parents the news over Sunday lunch. ‘That’s nice, dear, but don’t let the job become the be-all and end-all,’ she’d said carefully. Kim knew exactly what she meant. You came so close to being a normal woman and having a husband and family; don’t let it all be for nothing.

Her father was great. ‘Well done, sweetheart,’ he’d said bracingly. ‘I knew you’d get it and this’ll be the start of something good, you mark my words. I feel it in my bones.’

Whether her father was right or not, on Sunday night—when her bed was piled high with clothes and she still couldn’t come to a decision as to what to wear the next day—she told herself enough was enough. No more panicking, no more dissecting, no more thinking .

She hung the clothes away, tidied her shoes and bags and climbed into bed. She would pick the first clothes that came to hand in the morning and be done with it.

She was free of Kate Campion and her waspish companions; life could only get better.

At eight-thirty the next morning Kim was reminding herself of this was she stood in Pat’s office, listening to Blaise’s secretary outlining the normal procedure that occurred before the rest of the office staff arrived.

Blaise was already in his office. Pat admitted she didn’t really know what time their boss got to work, but in the five years she’d been working for him she had never arrived before Blaise once. He was a self-confessed workaholic, she ventured, but he never asked more of any employee than he was prepared to give himself.

All very commendable, Kim thought wryly, but at this precise moment that wasn’t particularly comforting.

At twenty to nine the interconnecting door opened and Blaise appeared. By now Kim was feeling sick with nerves. The feeling of being out of her depth wasn’t helped as she took in the dark man leaning nonchalantly in the doorway. He seemed even bigger and tougher than she remembered. More attractive too. He was wearing a blue shirt the same colour as his eyes and his tie was hanging loose, the first two or three buttons of his shirt undone and showing the beginnings of dark body hair.

The laser-sharp gaze swept over her. ‘Hi.’ It was casual, easy. ‘Good journey this morning, I hope?’

‘Fine, thank you.’

He nodded. ‘Let’s hope it lasts. I seem to remember Pat thinking she could commute from somewhere or other but within six months she was living in the city. Right, Pat?’

Pregnant and contented, Pat smiled serenely. ‘And a month later I met John and within four months we were married.’

‘Whirlwind courtship, I remember.’ The piercingly blue eyes switched to Kim. ‘I trust history isn’t going to repeat itself?’

Kim occasionally had flashes of her father’s quick wit. Straight-faced, she said, ‘I doubt it; I’m sure John is very happy with Pat.’

Blaise stared at her for a moment before throwing his head back and chuckling. ‘You’ll do,’ he said, smiling, and disappeared back into his office.

Which was just as well. The brief glimpse of the man behind the tycoon had made Kim’s knees weak. He was gorgeous , she told herself with something akin to horror, but she couldn’t fall for her boss. Not on day one.

Whether something of what she was feeling showed in her face she wasn’t sure, but the next moment Pat said quietly, ‘He’s not an easy man to work for but I wouldn’t have missed a minute and I think you’ll feel like that too. He’s the most charismatic man I’ve ever met and has a succession of girlfriends that change with the wind. They only have to get a tiny bit clingy and they’re history—he’s strictly a love ’em and leave ’em type. I thought I was in love with him for a little while after I first started but I quickly realised it was a hundred times better to work for him than go out with him; he’d be murder to date. The only female who will ever lay claim to Blaise’s heart is his daughter—he’s devoted to her. Now, let’s get back to those files. As I was saying…’

The rest of the day flew by. At the end of it Kim staggered to the train and sat in dumb senselessness all the way home. After a hot bath and a cold meat salad she fell into bed incredibly early and slept solidly until the alarm went off the next morning. The next four days were a repeat of the first and by the weekend she felt she couldn’t have survived one more day without a break.

After sleeping most of Saturday and Sunday away, she went in to work on Monday morning feeling rested and prepared for the challenge. She fared slightly better that second week, and by the third had got a handle on most things. By the fourth week she knew she had gone up several gears and was coping fine. She was still exhausted most evenings but Pat said that went with the territory.

It was just as well she had acclimatised to life at Blaise’s pace fairly quickly, because at the end of the fourth week Pat began to feel unwell. Within twenty-four hours there was a risk she could lose the babies. This didn’t materialise, but the end result of the scare was that she was hospitalised and would remain virtually flat on her back for the rest of the pregnancy.

When Kim went to visit her with a bunch of flowers and several good novels, she found Pat in a private suite which didn’t bear any resemblance to the general wards.

‘Blaise insisted on footing the bill when it was discovered the firm’s private health insurance didn’t cover one or two things,’ Pat confided once she had thanked Kim for the flowers and books. Considering Kim had had to negotiate the jungle of hothouse blooms the room held to reach the bed, her little offering looked rather forlorn. ‘He got one of the top men in the country to look at me and then had me moved here.’

‘That was generous of him.’

Pat nodded. ‘It’s certainly put John’s mind at rest. He thinks Blaise is the best thing since sliced bread. How much it’s all going to cost by the time the twins are actually born I dread to think, but Blaise is adamant it’s OK.’

‘You know Blaise wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want to do.’ Kim smiled at the woman she had come to like very much in the last month. Pat had gone the extra mile in helping her slip into the job, smoothing out a hundred and one difficulties and being generous with her time and advice. ‘Now, just try to relax and make the most of being waited on hand and foot. You’re going to be pretty busy once the babies arrive.’

‘I’m already bored out of my head.’ Pat wrinkled her small nose. ‘And I want you to promise me you’ll call if there’s anything you’re not sure about.’

‘Of course I will,’ Kim lied. She had no intention of worrying Pat with office matters when she was supposed to be having complete rest and being kept free from any stress or anxiety. ‘But I’ll be fine. You’ve been fantastic the last few weeks and all those notes you’ve given me cover everything from A to Z.’

Pat had been taken ill during Thursday night and today was Sunday. Because Blaise had been tied up with organising the consultant and Pat’s hospital care himself, Kim had seen little of him on the Friday. Tomorrow would be the first proper day she was alone with him in the role of personal assistant, and she was ridiculously nervous already. She knew Blaise well enough by now to know that she had to hide any tension she might be feeling from him, though. He valued self-control and a cool, calm approach to any situation above anything else.

She sat talking to Pat until John arrived fifteen minutes later and then made her excuses and left. She had driven into London when she discovered the hospital had a car park; she had enough of the train every day in the week. Humanity packed into a small space was never particularly uplifting—or fragrant.

She was just going to get into the car when she heard her name called. Her heart thudding, she swung round. ‘Blaise—what are you doing here?’ Stupid question, but he didn’t appear to notice. In fact, for once he looked distinctly harassed. It suited him; made him appear more like the rest of the human race.

Kim just had time to notice how the black jeans and charcoal open-necked shirt he was wearing did even more for him than the immaculate business suits he wore to work, before he said, ‘You’re leaving, I take it?’

She nodded. ‘Why?’

‘I’ve got a couple of forms Pat needs to sign and as next week is going to be a busy one I thought I’d kill two birds and bring them myself and make sure they’re looking after her properly. At the last minute Lucy wanted to come with me but she doesn’t like hospitals.’

Kim nodded again. Pat had told her Blaise’s daughter had been in hospital for a couple of weeks after the accident which had killed her mother. She had also hinted that the child was a bit of a handful.

‘She’s insisting she can wait in the car by herself, although I’d rather not leave her alone.’

Kim stared into the tough, attractive face. His daughter was ten years old in a couple of weeks’ time, more than old enough to sit in a parked car and wait while her father delivered the papers, surely? ‘I can wait a while with her if you like.’

In true Blaise style, there was no prevarication or asking her if he was putting her about. ‘Thanks,’ he said shortly. ‘Come and meet her.’

He led the way to his Ferrari. It was a panther of a car, black and sleek and powerful, and always sat in the space reserved for it in the firm’s car park like a dark, brooding presence. The young child sitting in the passenger seat couldn’t have been more at odds with the car’s aura. She looked much younger than nearly ten, seven at the most, and was tiny and fragile and as blonde as Blaise was dark.

As Blaise opened the door, saying, ‘This is my new personal assistant, Lucy. Her name’s Kim,’ she bent and peered at the little girl, smiling widely.

‘Hello, Lucy. Nice to meet you.’

The child stared back at her with enormous clear blue eyes. ‘Hello,’ she said reluctantly. She didn’t smile back.

‘Come and sit in; I won’t be more than a minute or two.’ Blaise took Kim’s arm, moving her round the bonnet of the car and opening the driver’s door. She had no option but to slide in beside Lucy, who was now eyeing her resentfully, as Blaise said, ‘Kim’s going to keep you company, Lucy,’ and then shut the door.

Great. She turned to the child but before she could speak, Lucy muttered, ‘I’m not a baby, you know.’

Kim watched Blaise disappear into the building in the wing mirror. ‘I know that. You’re ten in two weeks’ time, aren’t you?’ she said brightly. ‘Are you having a party?’

Ignoring this, Lucy continued, ‘So you don’t need to sit with me, all right? You can go.’

She wished. ‘Your father asked me to wait until he comes out,’ she stated calmly.

‘I’ve told you, there’s no need.’

Kim took a deep breath and let it out evenly. ‘Nevertheless, I said I would.’

‘I don’t want you to.’

‘I’m sorry but I can’t help that.’

‘This is my car, not yours. If I want you to get out then you have to.’

Thanks a million, Blaise. And this definitely didn’t come under the job description. Looking into the angry little face, which was undeniably pretty, Kim said quietly, ‘Are you always this rude, Lucy?’