The Greek Boss's Demand. Trish Morey
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he was part of Aristos’s world and had never been a real part of hers—the pressure of knowing the secret that lay between them like a chasm.
The chair-back pressed into her as she attempted, however fractionally, to increase the distance between them.
‘Alexandra—’
She squeezed her eyes shut. The way he still said her name, just as he had back then, squeezing out the syllables till they seemed to curl in his rich, Mediterranean accent. Nobody had ever said her name like Nick had those weeks in Crete. It had made her feel sexy back then.
Only now she couldn’t let it affect her. She was all grown up and things like that were the stuff of teenagers and holidays and holding hands. She was over it.
‘Alexandra.’
She sucked in a breath, opened her eyes and forced what she hoped would pass as a businesslike expression onto her face.
‘I guess you’ll need to check the accounts, find out how the company is going. Our tax position—all that stuff.’
He blinked slowly. ‘There’s time for that later.’
‘Good,’ Alex said, a little too fast. ‘I’m kind of busy at the moment…’ She shuffled a few papers on her desk for effect. ‘Maybe I could drop the accounts into you later? I imagine you want to get things sorted out here and head back to Greece as soon as you can.’
Nick’s eyes narrowed as he propped himself down on the edge of her desk and leaned dangerously close to her.
‘I can see you’re in the middle of something very important,’ he whispered conspiratorially, nodding towards the computer. She followed his gesture and felt her cheeks heat till she was sure they matched the colour of the rosy-coloured pipe powering a cubic path around her computer screen.
Her hand reached out on impulse, but she snatched it back short of the keyboard. Better the screensaver right now than her desktop. Not with a photograph of Jason beaming out from it.
She looked up at him and grabbed a breath, anxious to steer the conversation to safe territory—wherever that might be.
‘I was thinking…’
Both his eyebrows went up this time and he leaned over to swipe a pen from right in front of her, getting so close as to fill her senses with the subtle scent of his cologne overlaying the unmistakable essence of man. For a second it took her breath away, her line of thought erased, and she had no choice but to sit and watch as he began to tap the pen against the fingers of his other hand.
‘Very reassuring to hear my uncle employed people who can think.’ He looked around, assessing the pale honey-coloured walls, the bookshelves and filing cabinets, as if taking an inventory. ‘But what do you actually do in this spacious office of yours?’
His jibe focused her attention once more, and she straightened her spine, forced her head up higher. ‘I imagine you’ve already discussed the staff and our responsibilities with Sofia.’
The pen kept tapping.
‘I want to hear it from you.’
It was impossible not to feel intimidated by the man. From the edge of her desk he dominated the space before her, looming large and much too close. She looked up at him, feeling her eyes narrow as she tried to work out where he was coming from. No doubt he already had plans in mind for the company. Where did she fit in with those plans?
She needed this job. With a brand-new mortgage to her name, the first chance she’d had to find a real home for her and Jason, now she needed it more than ever. Aristos hadn’t been the easiest boss, but the chance to get out of their poky flat and into a real house with a real backyard was worth anything her former boss had been able to dish out. Now that Nick was the boss, what would he dish out?
‘All right. I’m Financial Administrator for the Xenophon Group. I’ve been here for almost two years, though I haven’t been doing this job all that time.’
The pen stopped tapping. ‘No. That’s what Sofia said. You started out on Reception—is that right?’
Before she could answer she noticed the beat of the pen start up again and felt herself frown. If he was trying to get on her nerves he was doing an excellent job.
‘But then the previous two accountants left…?’ The query was apparent in his eyes. ‘They were no good?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, but your uncle wasn’t the easiest person to get on with. He was a demanding boss.’
‘My uncle started out with nothing and built a fortune in property worth millions. Of course he would expect a lot from his employees.’
‘Of course he did. And he got that—and more. But he was difficult as a boss. Impossible at times. If he was in the office he was shouting. In both cases they were good accountants, but Aristos was always shouting at them for one thing or another—I don’t think he trusted them to look after his affairs—and they just got sick of it. In the end they walked out, one after the other. The second one only lasted three months. Someone had to fill the gap immediately, and Sofia offered to look after Reception if I would do it. I’d been helping both of them out and it really wasn’t such a big deal.’
‘And Aristos didn’t employ another accountant? Why would he keep a receptionist in such a position of responsibility?’
Alex bristled. ‘Maybe because I do the job well.’
He didn’t look convinced.
‘If it’s any consolation, I think Aristos was surprised too. He was intending to advertise, but the employment agency didn’t seem too confident they could find the right person for this job—word had got back to them, obviously—and things here were going well. I was already studying for a business diploma at night—so he was relieved not to have to find someone else.’
And pay them accountant’s wages. If there was one thing Aristos loved more than bellowing his commands it had been a bargain, and with her he’d got a cheap accountant—even with the extra he’d reluctantly agreed to pay over her former receptionist’s salary.
‘Funny, but I don’t remember the young Alexandra looking forward to spending her life as some bean-counter.’
Alex went rigid. She’d relaxed a little, talking about her job, thinking about things present. He’d just transported her slap-bang into the past. A past she’d rather steer clear of now.
‘Funny, but I don’t think of myself as a “bean-counter”.’ She ploughed on, ignoring the black look he threw her. ‘Besides, I don’t think I knew what I wanted back then.’
She certainly hadn’t known what she’d need back then. Had had no idea she’d have a son to support with no chance of finishing school for years. Had never realised how hard it would be to try and manage time with her son when she had a full-time job and night school study. Hadn’t known how hard it would be to earn enough money to put a deposit on an ageing two-bedroom bungalow in the suburbs.
He tapped the pen loudly once more, this time on her desk, snapping her out of her thoughts. ‘And Aristos didn’t shout at you?’
She laughed a little, relieved he was talking about the more recent past once more. ‘Sure, he shouted. He shouted at everyone—including Sofia. But as a property investor, he wrote the book. I learned a lot working for him.’
It was true. It might have been unbearable, just as it had proved for the former employees, except she’d needed the money and the experience more. A few years in this job and she’d be finished with her diploma and could get a decent job with better pay. Aristos had given her a chance and she’d grasped it. For all his faults, he’d at least given her this opportunity, and she owed him for that.
But Aristos was gone, and it was his nephew now sitting in front of her. And yet still she hadn’t even offered the merest of condolences.
‘The