The Alphabet Game the Complete Alpha Series a to X, Y, Z (2 page)

Why do I feel like he’s talking about something other than the post? Part of me wants to walk out and tell him I’ve had enough of his accidental touching and innuendo, but the fix of those grey eyes on mine, the tilt of his mouth and the gentle brush of stubble on his chin, keeps me in my seat. Plus I need to work in this building and this is my way in.

‘So do you have any questions for me?’

I cross my right leg over my left. He watches as I do so, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. It’s my signature move for when I want something, as it shows off my long legs to their best advantage, but he doesn’t know that.

‘Yes, could you tell me how many other people are being interviewed for the post?’

‘Of course. I just shortlisted you.’

I uncross my legs and sit up in my seat.

‘Okay, first you accidentally brush past me in the coffee shop and now I find out you’re only interviewing me. What’s going on?’

‘A-ha. There it is. The fire I’m used to seeing on Miss Mulroney’s face. Not the subservient person I’ve been interviewing this morning. I wondered where she was.’

‘Again, what is going on?’ I emphasise his name, ‘Mr Gregory.’

‘Oh such a quick learner, you already know when to indicate my superiority.’

I get up and walk towards the door. I turn and snap, ‘I really thought I was being interviewed for a post today. Not just playing a game for some spoilt boy’s amusement.’

I have to step back as Two brings in the coffee and biscuits. ‘Will that be all?’ she addresses him.

‘Thank you Lorraine. If you could just close the door behind you when you leave. I just need a final word with Miss Mulroney.’

I cross my arms over my chest.

‘You can drop the defensive posture. Come back and take a seat. There is a genuine job working for me. Give me the time to explain, please?’

I walk back over and drop back into the seat, placing my arm on the rest, my hand against my forehead and levelling a look of hostility at my potential new boss.

‘Okay, so now you’re back to needing training on how to act with your boss.’

‘You’re not my boss.’

‘Oh I think I am Stella.’ He picks up the coffee pot and pours us both a drink. ‘You see I know that you’ve been trying to get a post here for the last two years and what I want to discover, is why someone who lives in a half a million apartment overlooking the Wharf, wants a job as a PA in my father’s firm.’

I narrow my eyes at him. It appears the game’s up.

‘I’m sure it’s nothing at all to do with the fact that we look after your stepfather’s interests.’

I pick up my coffee and take a sip.

‘Okay, you win.’ I figure I have nothing to lose. ‘I hate my stepfather. I loathe the air he breathes and I want to destroy him.’

‘I thought so. Excellent.’ He spins around in his chair in triumph, a giddy gesture that shows a young playful side that I haven’t been privy to before.

‘Well, if you come work for me, I may just be able to assist you with that.’

I bite my lip, ‘and why would you want to do that?’

He looks out of his window, his eyes glacial,‘Well, lets just say I have my own daddy issues and I love a game. So come work for me and let’s play.’

‘You’ll seriously help me bring down my stepfather?’

‘I’ll try. I can’t have you releasing the details this firm has though. I need to keep it afloat for when my father steps down, which I’m hoping will be
very
soon and then it will be mine. I will help you though. There are ways.’

He walks over to me, leans over and lifts off the finger that I hadn’t realised had travelled over the centre of my lip and places my hand on my lap. I feel open and exposed.

‘So how about it, Miss Mulroney?’

I smile at him. This time it’s genuine and I see it reflected in his own. ‘I’d love to accept the position, Mr Gregory.’

‘Gabe’, he repeats. ‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy working alongside me. I’ll see you Monday morning at nine.’

Again I get the feeling of double meanings, but I take a long firm look at what I guess is a hot bod underneath that suit and decide that I don’t mind one little bit.

I get up and re-shake his hand, standing just a little too close so I’m invading his personal space.

‘Nine it is. I look forward to being able to assist you any way I can.’

I watch his pupils dilate and his eyes flash with a hint of silver. I open the door and leave the room.

Chapter 2

I say Good Morning to the Concierge staff of my apartment block, as I walk past them and head to the communal pool. I swim most mornings, so now I’m going to be working I’ll need to set the alarm pretty early. I head to the changing rooms, my gym bag swinging from my shoulder. I slip into my costume, loving how it accentuates my toned stomach and slim waist. At twenty-three I’m fortunate to have a fast metabolism, but I mustn’t get complacent, hence the daily swim. If I turn out to follow my mother, who I very much resemble, then that apple shaped tummy will be on it’s way. There’s just one other person in the changing room, a woman doing the changing room dance, attempting to work her clothes off whilst holding a towel. From the corner of my eye I see the towel drop despite her best efforts and stifle a giggle. My confidence comes from the years of boarding and of being Mitch’s stepdaughter, the feelings of inadequacy and rejection locked tightly away.

I dive into the pool and swim eighty lengths straight off. This is my routine. I won’t swim any less except when I’m ill, which is rare. Usually I lose myself to the function of swimming, gaining fitness and de-stressing, taking in the feel of my arms as they pull taut through the water, but this morning all I can think about is my interview and Gabe Gregory.

My day so didn’t turn out the way I expected. From thinking I probably had little chance of getting the post, I now have the job and also a partner in crime. I turn onto my back and perform a leisurely crawl through the water. I’m quite looking forward to Monday when I start, seeing what Gabe has in mind.

After a shower and dressing, I call into The Riverside, the local coffee shop for our apartments. It’s literally, step out of the apartment block, turn left, left again and I’m in. I swear this is not the reason I took the apartment, though it certainly helped. I call in almost every day and quite a few evenings and this may be the reason why Col already has my Latte on the side with my name written on the paper cup.

‘Ha, I’m staying this morning, so you can transfer that to a proper mug,’ I challenge him.

‘Oh it’s a Princess day is it, only the best china will do?’

‘I’m celebrating. I have a new job, starting on Monday, so while you’re getting me a better receptacle, you can add a piece of that white chocolate and raspberry flapjack that’s looking at me tantalisingly from that display stand.’

The cafe has many comfortable chairs and tables but I take a seat on one of the high bar stools near the window and Col places my mug and flapjack on the counter that runs below it. I like it here, I can people watch or turn and talk to Col.

The door swings open and Veronica ‘Ronnie’ Huntington-Jones hurtles through, long blonde bob swinging.

‘Espresso, pronto, Monsieur,’ she yells at Col with an accompanying finger click.

‘Oh God, double trouble,’ he shakes his head. ‘Sit next to her, I’ll bring it over to you.’

‘Thanks honey.’

She holds on to the wall to help hoist herself up on the seat. ‘You know I’m a titch, why do you always sit up here?’

‘I like the view.’

‘So do I,’ she says, admiring Col’s midriff as he stretches to put some mugs away and his top rides up.

‘We’ve been through this many, many times,’ I chide her, ‘Ronnie must not shag the Barista, because Stella needs her daily caffeine.’

‘You’re just no fun. There are loads of other coffee shops in London.’

‘Not next door there aren’t, so behave yourself.’

‘He’s not rich enough for me yet, so you’re safe, though I sure could use him for practice.’

I’ve known Ronnie for the last couple of years since I moved into the apartment block. Hers is three doors further down than mine. We’d met outside her apartment on the corridor one night when I’d heard the most blood curdling scream and found her outside shaking, saying there was a mouse inside. It turned out to be rolled up cotton wool balls she’d thrown down on the floor when drunk. She’d not been too sober at that time either. Ronnie was the daughter of Penny Huntington-Jones, Socialite and Henry Jones, Entrepreneur, a close mate of Richard Branson. She’d been bottle fed champers and brought up largely by nannies. Like my own, her parents had bought her apartment as an outright gift. In her case hoping that home ownership would help her to grow up, with the bonus that any tantrums would be miles away from the family estate.

I love her to bits, drama and all.

‘So, fill me in, asap. You got the job, yes, but what’s the rest of the gossip, I sooo need to hear something exciting?’

I tell her about my very unusual Wednesday.

‘Gabe Gregory? You’re working with Gabriel? You lucky bitch. God I’d deal with his dick-tation any day of the week.’

‘Ronnie.’

‘Oh don’t tell me you didn’t consider it, or I’m taking you to a psychiatrist.’

‘He is bloody hot. I can’t get distracted though, I’m going there for a reason.’

‘Oh fuck that, bringing down your stepdad can wait. Let Gabe dick-stract you; honey you’re in dire need.’

I pick up one of the newspapers Col has placed on the ledge and whack her with it. ‘Can you just behave.’

‘Seriously, Gabe used to hang with my crowd on and off in our late teens, though he mainly lived in New York. He used to be a serious party animal, but he’s been off the scene quite a while now. Gosh I haven’t seen him in an age. Wow, you’re going to be his’, she pauses, ‘Personal Assistant.’

‘There’s only you who can make Personal Assistant sound like Prostitute.’

‘Honey, how long is it now since you’ve had any? In all the time I’ve known you, you only dated Jimmy, idiot fucktard that he was. It’s about time you got back on the horse - and rode it
hard
.’

I sigh. It has indeed been a long time. Eighteen months to be exact. I’ve probably re-virginised. Thank goodness for buzzing plastic friends. Ronnie doesn’t know but Jimmy is the only person I’ve ever slept with and if what he offered is what it’s all about, then to be quite honest I could live without it.

‘So are you two finished talking dirty in my coffee shop, or are you having another couple of drinks?’ interrupts Col.

‘Oh we’ve only just started,’winks Ronnie, ‘Have you got a bit of brandy for the coffees?’

I make a barfing action, ‘Its ten-thirty in the morning.’

‘I’ve got to face the folks later, I need some sustenance.’

I shake my head at her and address Col, ‘Do not put alcohol in the coffees.’

‘Never would.’ He points at Ronnie, ‘You’re wild enough without liquor.’

She looks at him over her shoulder, and pouts ‘roar’ in a throaty voice.

Monday morning comes around quickly. I dress conservatively in a pair of black skinny trousers; the most gorgeous black and white ankle boots which are inspired by a tuxedo; a white blouse; and black jacket. I’ve just added some mascara and a slick of clear gloss to my morning routine as the sun has been out enough this summer to give my cheeks a healthy glow that removes the need for blusher.

On arrival at the office, I’m met by the Head of Personnel and the morning is spent completing paperwork and my induction. To say I’m disappointed to get to lunchtime and have not seen Gabe would be a gross understatement.

‘How long do we get for lunch around here?’ I ask Lorraine.

‘Usually thirty minutes but I’ve cleared it that you can have an hour today as Mr Gregory isn’t due in until two. It’s in his diary to follow up on your induction himself.

‘That’s great. Thank you.’ I say and head out to grab a quick sandwich, so I can spend some time making myself look effortlessly pretty in the bathroom before two. I berate myself for becoming this tragic woman and remind myself what I’ve joined the company for and it isn’t to stare at my new Boss’s hot bod.

But, oh what a hot bod it truly is. I sit in front of him, in my new office. Today he’s dressed in a dark grey suit, his jacket open and his mauve tie lies askew across his pale lilac shirt. I want to walk over and straighten it for him. Is that part of being a Personal Assistant, to make sure the boss looks neat? I sure hope so.

‘So, I’d like to start with a typing test, which I apparently should have done at your interview the other day, but which for some reason I got distracted from.’ He gets up and gestures for me to take a seat in his chair.

‘Erm, sure,’ I say, moving to seat myself. It’s warm from where his own bottom has been and I kind of shuffle in the seat to get comfortable, whilst enjoying the warmth.