Oh-So-Sensible Secretary

you’ll kiss me back. You’ll fall back against the door and pull me with you-’

‘I don’t mean really have an affair,’ I interrupted, scarlet. I was horrified at how vividly I could imagine it, and there was a strange thumping deep inside me. Jonathan had never lost control like that. I was beginning to feel very odd, but I hoped very much that was down to the martinis. ‘I meant…how would we make everyone believe it? We can hardly send round an e-mail announcement that we’re sleeping together.’

Phin didn’t seem to think that would be a problem. ‘We’ll go to a couple of parties, maybe leave work together-or even better arrive together-and word will get round in no time. If you can contrive to blush whenever my name is mentioned in the Ladies’, or wherever you girls all congregate, so much the better. And remember how besotted I’m going to be with you,’ he went on. ‘I won’t be able to keep my hands off you-especially when Jonathan is around. I don’t think it will take long before he gets the point.’

I buried my nose in my martini, trying not to wonder what it would be like to have Phin putting his arm around me, sliding his hand down my back. Would he twine his fingers around mine? Would he stroke my hair?

Would he kiss me?

The breath rushed out of my lungs at the thought. Would he? And if he did what would it be like?

My heart was thudding painfully-ba-boom, ba-boom, ba- boom-and I had to moisten my lips before I could speak. This was about Jonathan, remember?

‘But if Jonathan thinks I’m with you, he’ll assume I’m not interested in him any more,’ I objected.

‘Once he starts paying attention-and he will-you’ll have to let him know that you just might be tempted away from me. If you can do it without seeming too keen. You might have to spend some time alone together…’ Phin snapped his fingers. ‘Of course! Jonathan can come to Cameroon. If you can’t seduce him back on a steamy tropical night, Summer, I wash my hands of you!’

I thought about it as I sucked on the long curl of orange peel which was all that was left at the bottom of my glass. Apart from the reminder of Cameroon, which I’d been rather hoping he’d forgotten about, I was struggling to think of a good argument as to why Phin’s idea wouldn’t work.

The third martini wasn’t helping. I was feeling distinctly fuzzy by now, and finding it hard to concentrate.

Phin followed my gaze to the empty glass. ‘Had enough?’ he asked, and I bridled at the humorous understanding in his voice.

A sensible girl would say yes at this point, but being sensible hadn’t got me anywhere, had it?

‘No,’ I said clearly. Well, it was meant to sound clear. Whether it did is doubtful. ‘I’d love another one.’

One of Phin’s brows lifted. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Absho-absolutely sure.’

‘It’s your hangover,’ he said, the corner of his mouth quirking in that lop-sided smile of his. He beckoned the waitress over. ‘Another pomegranate martini for my little lush here, and I’ll have another half.’

I waited until she had set the glasses on the table. Part of me knew quite well that Phin’s plan was madness, but I hadn’t been able to come up with a single argument to convince him how ridiculous the idea was.

‘Do you really think it would work?’ I asked, almost shyly.

‘What’s the worst that could happen if it doesn’t?’ Phin countered. ‘You’d be in the same situation you are now, but at least you’ll know you did everything you could to make your dream come true. That has to be better than just sitting and watching it disappear, doesn’t it? And, if nothing else, we’ll have promoted the family image of Gibson & Grieve with this interview. As a good company girl, I know you’ll be glad to have done your bit!’

He was watching my face.

‘It’s a risk,’ he said in a different voice, ‘but you don’t get what you really want without taking chances.’

I looked back at him, biting my lip.

‘So,’ he said, lifting his glass, ‘do we have a deal?’

And I, God help me, chinked my glass against his. ‘Deal,’ I said.

‘Good morning, Summer!’ Phin’s cheery greeting scraped across my thumping head.

‘Not so loud,’ I whispered, without even lifting my head from the desk, where I’d been resting it ever since I’d staggered into work twenty minutes earlier. Late, for the first time in my life. I would have been mortified if I had had any feelings to spare. As it was, I had to save my energy for basic survival. Breathing was about all I could manage right then, and even that hurt.

‘Oh, dear, dear, dear.’ I could picture him standing over me, blue eyes alight with laughter, lips pursed in mock reproach. ‘Is it possible you’re regretting that last martini?’

I groaned. ‘Go away and leave me to die in peace!’

‘Aren’t you feeling well?’ Phin enquired solicitously.

‘How could you possibly have guessed that?’ I mumbled, still afraid to move my head in case it fell off.

‘I’m famed for my powers of deduction. The FBI are always calling me up and asking me to help them out.’

I didn’t even have the energy to roll my eyes. ‘How many martinis did you make me drink last night?’

‘Me? It wasn’t me that insisted on another round, or the next, or the next…I asked you if you were sure, and you said that you were. Absolutely sure, you said,’ he reminded me virtuously, and I hated the laughter in his voice.

I only had the vaguest memory of getting home the night before. Phin. A taxi. Anne’s astonished face as I reeled in the door.

‘Oh, God…I’m going to be a statistic,’ I moaned into the desk. ‘I’ll be one of those moody binge drinkers we’re always hearing about who throw away their entire careers.’

‘You don’t think you might be exaggerating just a teeny bit?’ said Phin. ‘Letting your hair down once in a while isn’t the end of the world.’

It certainly felt like the end of the world to me. I’d never been closer to pulling a sickie. I couldn’t even imagine a time when I would feel better. My forehead stayed where it was, pressing into the desk. ‘If you knew how awful I felt, you wouldn’t say that.’

‘You were great fun,’ he offered, but that was no consolation to me then. ‘You were the life and soul of the bar by the time I managed to bundle you into a taxi. It’s one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time. I think I’m going to enjoy going out with you.’

‘I’m not going out ever again,’ I vowed.

‘You’ll have to. How else will everyone know how in love we are?’

Very cautiously, I turned my head on the desk and squinted up at him. ‘Please tell me last night was all a bad dream.’

‘Certainly not!’ said Phin briskly. ‘We had a deal. You drank to it-several times, if I recall. Besides, we’re committed. I met Lex on my way in and asked if I could take you to some drinks party he’s having on Friday.’

‘What?’ Horrified, I straightened too suddenly, and yelped as my head jarred.

‘Our cunning plan is never going to work if you hide away,’ Phin pointed out, sitting on the edge of my desk and deliberately pushing a pile of square-cut folders aside. I was in such a bad state that I didn’t even straighten them, and he looked at me in concern.

‘Jonathan will be there,’ he added, to tempt me, but I was beyond comfort by then.

‘Oh, God.’ I collapsed back onto the desk. ‘What did Lex say? He must have been horrified.’

‘Not at all. He was surprised, sure, but he said falling for you could be the most sensible thing I’d ever done.’

‘I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,’ I moaned.

‘Now, come along-you’ll feel better when you’ve had some sugar,’ said Phin, jumping off the desk. ‘I’ll go and make some coffee, and you can have your doughnut early.’

Oddly enough, I did feel a bit better after something to eat. My head was still thumping, but at least it didn’t feel as if it was about to fall off my neck any more.

Gingerly, I settled down at my computer and managed a few e-mails, although the clatter of the keyboard made me wince and I had to type very, very slowly, while Phin drip-fed me coffee and tried to rouse me by pretending to put files away in the wrong drawer.