“Yes, sir, I’ll get onto them right away.” Her tone was cool, professional. Business-like. She already had a mountain of typing to complete, draft contracts that had been scribbled out and changed that needed to be amended, but that could wait. It would have to.
* * *
She thinks you’re an asshole. Well done. It was clear from her tone of voice, the forced smile, and the stiff way she held her shoulders that she was speaking to him only because she had no choice. She wasn’t being friendly at all, but very formal. He deserved it, he supposed. Scolding her in front of everybody like that probably hadn’t been his best move, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. Scolding wayward women came naturally to him. Besides, it needed to be done. Janice would report straight back to his uncle, otherwise, and he didn’t want that. Hopefully, after that mild public scolding, Janice would think Jilly had been chastised enough.
“Thank you,” he said to her retreating back. “Appreciated.”
He watched her as she walked to the photocopier then glanced down at the mountain of paperwork she had on her desk already, and momentarily felt guilty. She had plenty of work already, and he’d just given her more. That she’d just prioritised. Why had he singled her out for this? There were any number of legal secretaries in this office; he could share his load around them all. He could, but he wasn’t going to. He felt a claim for her that he had no right to have. She tugged at his heartstrings the way nobody else did. Nobody else came across as quite so sweet and vulnerable, almost timid. Like there was something barely buried that she was deathly afraid of, but wouldn’t admit to.
He’d seen the tears that had sprung into her eyes earlier, despite her doing her best to hide them. His heart had clenched for her then, just as it did now. She needed a daddy so badly, he could tell. It wouldn’t be more obvious if she came with a siren and flashing lights, announcing it to the world. He knew that. But did she? That was the important question. Would she let him take care of her, in every way? He resolved to find out.
* * *
The photocopying, stapling, hole-punching, binding, and filing was boring, monotonous work and it didn’t keep her mind occupied enough to prevent thoughts of guilt about her daughter sneaking through. Lily loved school and her after-school care, so usually Jilly’s feelings of inadequacy as a mother were minimal. Her daughter was happy, after all, which was the most important thing. But days like today, when her daughter was sick, she wanted nothing more than to be at home with her, tending to her. Snuggling tight that warm, wriggly little body. Lying in bed together watching telly. Reading books together. Helping her daughter get better. Had she made the wrong decision, coming in to work today? Was Lily okay? Did she need to go to the doctor? Or was she improving? She knew her mother was perfectly capable of taking care of Lily, that wasn’t the point. The point was mothers did guilt well, Jilly included. And the last place she wanted to be when her daughter was sick was at work. It was too hard to concentrate.
“Ow!” Jilly yelped and pulled her hand away, blood dripping from her finger where the metal staple had pierced her skin. This is what happens when you don’t focus on your work, she berated herself, cradling her wounded hand. She’d have to clean this up; she’d get blood all over the papers otherwise. She headed to the lunchroom where the first aid kit was kept, and rinsed her finger under the tap. She was dabbing it with a paper towel when Matthew walked in. Inwardly, Jilly groaned. Why did he have to keep turning up wherever she went?
“Are you hurt? Let me see.”
Before she could answer him, tell him it was just a superficial cut, he was right there, examining her finger, digging through the first aid kit for a plaster. Gently, he dried her hand with a fresh paper towel, paying special attention to the tip of her finger where the plaster needed to stick, and carefully pressed the bandage down. She tried to pull her hand away but he held it fast and brought it upward, grazing his lips lightly across the tip of her finger, kissing the plaster softly. She froze, but his touch was so gentle and his smile so caring as he held her eyes in his steady gaze that she couldn’t help but relax.
“There you go, all better.”
Her heart pounded. Nobody had ever done that to her before. Nobody had ever tended to her minor injuries in such a gentle, caring manner. Nobody, since she was a child, had ever kissed her ouchies better before. It wasn’t something that adults did, was it? But it felt nice. Weird, but nice.
She shyly returned his smile, but pulled her hand away. “Thank you. I’ll get back to work now. An important lawyer is waiting on urgent photocopying.”
Jilly got back to work, paying a bit more attention this time, but she couldn’t shake the confusion that meddled with her brain. Matthew Stevenson was such an enigma. Stern, yet gentle. His kindness as he’d tended to her injured finger was so at odds with the bossy way he’d spoken to her when she’d first walked in that morning, with no regard for her dignity. He clearly didn’t care that he had embarrassed her. He hadn’t even seemed to care that her daughter was sick, only that she was late.
She stapled the last few pages together and dropped them on the top of the heap triumphantly, steepled her fingers under her chin and frowned. She couldn’t figure him out. It was hard, trying to reconcile the tender caring with the asshole. It was like he was two entirely different people. This is
