Buttoned-Up Secretary, British Boss

In the kitchen, she was just filling the kettle when her mobile rang and she took it from her jeans pocket, frowning briefly. It could only be Melly.

It was, and the girl’s excitable voice almost deafened Sabrina as she listened.

‘Sabrina? You’ll never guess! You know those dancing classes I took over at short notice because the girl was ill? Well, they’ve asked me to step in again, only this time it’s something much more exciting!’

‘Go on, tell me,’ Sabrina said patiently.

‘I’ve been asked to go to Spain! To teach at a summer school—well, an autumn school, really. And it’s a two-week contract to include musical theatre, aerobics and dance, and I think some singing as well. People have enrolled from all over the place to take part, and participants, as well as those of us who’ll be running the classes, will all be put up at various houses. Everything’s taken care of, Sabrina. All I need is to take my clothes and passport—oh, and some money, of course—and turn up on Sunday morning when the minibus will be taking us to Heathrow!’

Melly hardly paused for breath, not giving Sabrina a chance to interrupt. ‘It’s a wonderful opportunity, Sabrina—and I know two of the teachers who are going. They’ve done this sort of thing before and they say it’s fantastic fun, and a holiday as well—all expenses paid—and we get a respectable cheque for our services at the end! What do you think?’

Well, what could Sabrina think or say other than to join in her sister’s enthusiasm? ‘Bring home all the necessary literature for us to check out, Melly,’ she said reasonably. ‘But I should think it will be perfectly OK. Though I’m sure you’ll have to work pretty hard for your holiday!’ She bit her lip, hoping that Melly wouldn’t suffer from any depression during the proposed assignment. Her attacks were so unpredictable, and she’d be too far away for Sabrina to help her.

‘Oh, I know that. There will be several sessions each day, but time for breaks as well.’ There was a pause at the other end. ‘The only thing is, I don’t have much money at the moment—as you know, Sabrina—so could you lend me a bit? I’ll be able to repay you when I get home.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about the money, I’ll sort that out,’ Sabrina said, suddenly elated at her sister’s news. This could be stimulating for Melly, she thought, a complete change—and a much-needed boost to her confidence.

Early on Sunday morning, Sabrina waved the minibus out of sight. She was thinking that, if nothing else came from this experience for her sister, it was going to be the first break away from her, Sabrina, and from home, for a very long time.

She sighed briefly, biting her lip as she watched the bus disappear around the corner, before walking back the short distance to where she’d parked the car. Melly was twenty-six years old, after all. Yet she was the kid sister, vulnerable and easily hurt, her fragile emotional state often rocked by outside influences. Sabrina fervently hoped that this trip would turn out to be everything Melly thought it would be, with no complications.

Sabrina did feel relieved to have met the leader of the excursion this morning—a youngish man called Sam—who’d reassured her that everyone would be in safe hands and that these events were always well organized.

Driving slowly back home, Sabrina tried to think about this evening and how she was going to get through it. She had not liked the sound of Lydia one little bit. And how strange that Alexander called his mother by her Christian name—what was that all about? Perhaps that was what elevated people did, she thought idly. Then something else struck her: what should she wear to this do? Alexander hadn’t given her a clue about any of it; his only directive as they’d parted company on Friday was that she must be ready when he arrived to pick her up at seven o’clock.

Still, she thought now as she parked outside their modest front gate, her black dress would have to be her salvation again, her suitable-for-anywhere item. It was well-cut, of good-quality material and wearing it always made her feel sure of herself, confident. If she kept it plain and didn’t deck it out with any jewellery, it could be classed as a perfect number for her role as secretary to Alexander McDonald. Not that he would bother about what she was wearing, or even notice what she had on, Sabrina thought.

The traffic that evening was abnormally heavy, and it had gone eight by the time Alexander drove his sleek, bronze Aston Martin slowly up the wide approach to his parents’ mansion, set in the Surrey countryside.

As Sabrina peered ahead at the imposing building, she saw lights from every open window shining out like beacons. As reverberating waves of high-pitched chatting and loud laughter could easily be heard, she felt like jumping out of the car and running away. But that thought lasted for less than a second as she remembered who she was with, who her employer was, and she hardened her resolve to be the perfect personal assistant to Alexander McDonald. To be ready for anything he might need her for, and to remain professional and businesslike.

The huge oak door was thrown open by a uniformed maid, who ushered them straight away into a brightly lit room, which to Sabrina seemed to stretch almost out of sight. There must be more than a hundred people present, she thought, realizing in those first few seconds that everyone seemed extravagantly dressed.

Alexander, his dark eyes sweeping the scene at a glance, knew he’d been right in not wanting to be here. It was one of his mother’s usual parties, he thought with distaste, where she invited just about everyone she knew—many of them young women, some not so young, who laughed too loudly and drank too much. His perceptive gaze had already spotted two whom he knew to be immensely rich, thanks to the well-known escort agencies they owned and ran in town.

Putting his hand lightly on Sabrina’s arm, he guided her across the room towards the long, white-clothed table laden with alcohol of every description. Before he could pour either of them a drink, the easily recognizable voice of Lydia reached Sabrina’s ears as the woman bore down on them.

She was wearing a three-quarter-length sheath dress in a brilliant purple colour, and its smooth, satiny material perfectly accentuated her hour-glass figure. Her silver hair was an elegant, shining knot on her head, her sculpted lips painted a bright glossy red. Alexander’s mother was certainly a very handsome woman who had clearly passed on her looks to her son. Her arms outstretched in welcome, she embraced Alexander carefully, offering him her cheek and making sure her make-up was not disturbed.

‘Alexander! Darling! I was afraid you weren’t going to turn up!’

Yes, mother dearest, I know exactly how that feels, he thought cynically, remembering the countless times his mother had not bothered to turn up at the regular boarding-school events to which parents were always invited. Remembering how he’d kept on hoping, until the very last minute, that she’d arrive. But she’d clearly felt that her maternal obligations ended the moment her sons left home at the tender age of seven; she had never left them in any doubt about that.

Alexander could recall her exact words as she’d waved him off on that first day.

‘Remember, Alexander,’ she’d said, ‘that you are no longer a child—and you must accept responsibility for yourself.’ She’d paused only briefly. ‘And from now on I want to be known as Lydia, not Mummy—do you understand? Mummy is a silly, childish word.’

‘But when I write to you can’t I put “dear Mummy”?’ Alexander had asked earnestly.

‘Certainly not,’ his mother had replied. ‘Someone might see it. Just put “dear Lydia”. That is my name, after all.’

Staring down at his mother now, Alexander realized that he and Bruno, who was two years his senior, had never discussed the matter but had accepted their mother’s directive without question. At least their father, Angus, had made no such demands and was always affectionately known as Dad. The older man didn’t seem to be here tonight, Alexander noticed, but that was nothing new. Their parents had lived separate lives for years.

‘Yes—a lot of traffic, I’m afraid,’ Alexander said, in answer to his mother’s remark.

‘Never mind, you’re here now. Though, of course, Bruno is otherwise engaged this evening—what’s new?’ Lydia sighed with a little pout. ‘A heavy meeting with some influential new backers, apparently. Still, there are masses of your friends here tonight, all desperate to see you again. It’s been too long since you’ve been circulating; someone said it’s as if you’ve disappeared off the face of the planet!’

‘Well, I hope this evening will lay that supposition to rest,’ Alexander said flatly. He paused, flickering a glance at Sabrina. ‘As I’m aware that your guest list is always flexible, Lydia,’ he went on, ‘I’ve brought someone along with me tonight—my personal assistant, Sabrina. Janet’s replacement,’ he added.

Sabrina was only too aware that Alexander’s mother had barely noticed she was there at all—or, if she had, she’d chosen to ignore it.

The woman turned now to look briefly at Sabrina. ‘Oh yes, I remember speaking to you on the telephone,’ she said dismissively. ‘How do you do?’ she added as an afterthought. Then she took hold of Alexander’s arm firmly. ‘Now, come along,’ she said. ‘Dinner is going to be served in half an hour, so you’ve a little time to catch up with everyone first.’

Alexander’s lips set in a hard line as he deliberately prised his mother’s hand away from him. ‘All in good time,’ he said. ‘Sabrina and I would like a drink first.’

‘Well, don’t be long,’ Lydia said, waving to someone at the other end of the room. ‘Look, there’s Danielle, I must go and talk to her…’ she said, moving away.

Waving briefly to several people who were calling out and wanting to gain his attention, Alexander poured out two glasses of white wine, handing one to Sabrina, and their eyes met for a second. He looked down at her thoughtfully, noticing for the first time that evening what she was wearing. The black dress she had on suited her dainty, curvaceous figure perfectly, he thought, and he liked her hair coiled up like that. It gave her a cool, elfin, distinctive look, and tonight those eyes which he found so fascinating seemed brighter and greener than ever. She wasn’t wearing a scrap of jewellery or make-up, as far as he could tell, but why should she bother? She didn’t need anything, her natural attributes were entirely sufficient.

Irritated at his own thoughts, and still looking at her, he took a drink from his glass. He didn’t look at women any more, he reminded himself. Not in the way he always had. The youthful, carefree days of enjoying the pleasures of the opposite sex had long gone and the experience had taught him many things—uppermost of which was in future to steer clear of the sort of women he’d so often come in contact with. Vain and self-seeking, many of them were overtly promiscuous, leading little, brittle lives.

It had all made him realize, believe, that he didn’t actually like women very much at all. He admired them, some of them; well, that was the male instinct and not his fault, he thought. But there had not been one in his past, apart from Angelica, whom he could imagine might have been prepared to settle down and be a faithful wife to someone like him, forced to spend so many hours in isolation as he worked. Nor to understand his moods when he became quiet and withdrawn sometimes, or that he didn’t particularly like the heady London life and all that went with it.

He took another swig from his glass. One thing he was damned sure about—he would never find himself in the same wretched position as his father, providing untold wealth to a fickle and demanding partner who lived solely for her own gratification. His brow knitted briefly. His solitary state—though not always entirely fulfilling, he admitted—was at least comfortable. Sorting out the lives of the characters in his books was difficult enough, heaven only knew. To have a real life woman to deal with and to try to satisfy was never going to be one of his problems. He’d come to that decision a long time ago, and it was final.

Sabrina, realizing that he had been scrutinizing her for several moments, felt her cheeks begin to burn and she glanced up quickly. ‘Are you expecting your agent to be here tonight?’ she asked innocently. ‘Or someone from your publisher’s?’ she added, wondering why she was there at all, what her role was to be.

‘Good grief, no, I hope not!’ Alexander said at once. ‘No, this is just one of my mother’s pointless parties, and I didn’t particularly want to come to it alone, that’s all.’

And that was the truth, he thought. It had been a somewhat impetuous act on his part to ask Sabrina to accompany him, but for some strange reason the thought that she would be there had made the prospect of the event slightly more acceptable. He shrugged inwardly. She was his personal assistant, after all, ready to do as he asked when the need arose, and she hadn’t seemed to mind coming along. His brow furrowed again as he remembered Lydia’s reaction when he’d introduced Sabrina just now. His mother had been totally uninterested to meet his new secretary—and was that such a surprise? Sabrina did not fit the mould of the women his mother had always liked being with.

Suddenly, like a minor earthquake approaching, three women rushed up and gathered around Alexander, all talking at once, and each embracing him effusively, almost making him spill his drink.

‘Alex!’ they chorused together. ‘Long time, no see. Where have you been hiding?’

Alexander put his drink down on the table and looked at the women. ‘Not hiding, just working,’ he said blandly. ‘How’s everyone doing? I must say, you’re all looking as lovely as ever.’

They all gushed their pleasure at that remark, and as they all began to babble on, each vying to make herself heard above the others, Sabrina stood back, fascinated to witness their over-exuberant behaviour—and to see Alexander’s casually charming manner as he responded to everything they were saying. It was clear that they were absolutely besotted by the famous, handsome, reputedly unavailable Alexander McDonald. She looked away for a moment, feeling as if she was a voyeur witnessing a mating game. But what was also clear was that she herself hadn’t even been noticed, nor the fact that Alexander had someone with him. Well, secretaries were supposed to make themselves invisible when the occasion demanded, she thought. It was as if she wasn’t there at all as she was faced with the backs of the three extravagantly dressed women clustered around Alexander, still chattering non-stop.

After a few moments of this, he eased himself away and reached over to take Sabrina’s arm.

‘Sally, Debbie, Samantha—let me introduce you to my secretary, Sabrina,’ he began, and for the first time the women turned, deigning to look at Sabrina, their faces blank.

Just as they were murmuring their polite greeting, another woman arrived and draped her arms around Alexander’s neck. ‘Alex,’ she breathed. ‘At last…’

‘Hello, Lucinda,’ he said, disentangling himself gently. ‘You’re looking wonderful, as usual.’ He drew Sabrina into the gathering. ‘Meet my new assistant, Sabrina.’

Lucinda was tall, raven-haired and swathed in a tight-fitting, low-cut red dress which left nothing to the imagination. She stared at Sabrina, a curious expression on her hard features.

‘Oh. So what happened to funny, little, old dowdy Janet?’ she said, turning to Alexander again. ‘Did she die quietly at her desk?’

‘Funny, little, old dowdy Janet, as you put it, decided that she’d had enough and is now spending much-deserved time with her family,’ Alexander said, and Sabrina could see that the woman’s remarks had angered him.

‘Oh, so you’re the new typist, then, are you?’ Lucinda said, looking down at Sabrina, her eyes taking in her appearance at a glance. ‘I wonder how you’ll put up with Alexander the Great?’

‘I’ve had no difficulty so far,’ Sabrina said neatly, suddenly rattled at the company she was in, and realizing that she herself had hardly uttered a word to anyone yet.

Lucinda shrugged. ‘Efficient typists are difficult to find; I know that to my cost,’ she said. ‘Though I’m afraid secretarial work would drive me absolutely bonkers, whoever I was working for,’ she added. ‘I mean, any office work is deadly boring—surely only a stop-gap before finding other more intellectually fulfilling occupations for the more intelligent among us?’ She blinked, her false eyelashes sweeping her cheek. ‘I run my own marketing company,’ she drawled importantly. ‘Which regularly keeps me out of the country. But I’m afraid my secretary in the London office comes under the heading of “brain dead”. Lazy and utterly useless!’

The others all tittered at that, and Alexander cut in calmly, ‘You’ve obviously lost your powers of discernment, Lucinda,’ he said. ‘I have no such problems. Janet was a loyal, hard-working, good-natured professional and was seldom away. She was with me for fifteen years.’ He paused, glancing at Sabrina. ‘And I very much hope that Sabrina will beat that,’ he added, though thinking that that wasn’t likely. Sabrina would want to return to her own line when the time was right.

Lucinda slipped her arm through Alexander’s and held him to her. ‘Oh, we don’t want to waste time talking about boring work. Now, Alex, you do remember our little arrangement…?’ she said eagerly.

The expression on Alexander’s face told its own story as he stared at the woman. He answered coolly, ‘What arrangement was that?’

‘Oh, you must remember, surely?’ Lucinda cried.

‘Bad luck, Lucinda,’ the others laughed. ‘We told you he wouldn’t have given it another thought!’

‘Then I’ll remind you, Alex,’ Lucinda persisted. ‘We agreed that when I came back to the UK, if neither of us had, shall we say, settled down, we’d see what fate had in store for us. Remember now?’

‘It was all a very long time ago, Lucinda,’ Alexander said calmly, thinking, and I only said that to keep you out of my face.

‘Well, Lydia has certainly not forgotten,’ Lucinda said. She paused. ‘Your mother has prepared the west wing for anyone who might need it tonight, Alex—who may prefer not to go home until tomorrow, I mean.’ She looked up into Alexander’s eyes. ‘We’ll be able to discuss things, Alex, be alone. It’ll be like getting to know each other all over again.’

Sabrina felt herself go hot and cold with embarrassment at the unbridled talk going on over her head. Not embarrassed on her own behalf, but on Alexander’s. But he merely shrugged his shoulders as if Lucinda had just given out the weather forecast.

‘No can do, I’m afraid.’ he said casually. ‘It’s always an early start on Mondays, and deadlines are deadlines.’

At that moment, Lydia came up to them, her face wreathed in smiles as she saw her son surrounded by adoring females. Totally ignoring Sabrina, she said, ‘There, isn’t this wonderful? There’s nothing like a get-together with old friends!’ She glanced at the expensive gold watch on her wrist. ‘Dinner’s being served, so come along, everyone—the night is young!’

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