Assignment: Baby. Jessica Hart
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what time you would be back, that was all.’
‘About six-thirty. Why?’
‘I was hoping to have a word with you.’ Tess’s calm expression gave no hint of her inner trepidation.
Gabriel frowned. ‘What about?’
Nobody could ever accuse him of beating about the bush, thought Tess with an inward sigh. She had to ask him for a rise, but it wasn’t the kind of thing you could blurt out just like that.
‘I’d rather explain when you’re in less of a hurry,’ she said.
‘Can’t it wait until tomorrow?’
‘We’ll be busy putting the Emery bid together tomorrow,’ Tess pointed out. And then it would be the weekend, which would mean two more days to worry about Andrew. She set her teeth. It went against the grain to beg, but she had to try. ‘If you could spare me five minutes when you get back, I would appreciate it.’
Gabriel looked at her. She had one of those faces that made it almost impossible to tell what she was thinking. It wasn’t that she was unattractive. She had a fine-boned face with clear skin and beautiful eyebrows, and her hair, always pulled neatly back, was an unusual golden-brown colour. She might even be pretty, he thought dispassionately—if she ever lightened up and got rid of that snooty expression of hers.
It occurred to him suddenly that she might be going to hand in her notice, and his black brows drew together. He didn’t have the time to find a new PA with this crucial contract coming up. He had inherited Tess when he’d taken over SpaceWorks, and her knowledge of the company was invaluable. He couldn’t afford to lose her just yet. It was worth putting up with the frosty atmosphere until he got things under control.
‘Very well,’ he said, irritable at the thought of wasting precious time trying to cajole her into staying. ‘If you wait until I get back, I’ll see you then.’
‘Thank you.’
That was typical Tess. No gush or fuss, just a cool thank you. Gabriel had never seen her anything but crisp, composed, competent. In many ways she was the ultimate personal assistant. She never flapped. When he shouted, she didn’t get upset or muddled. She was intelligent and discreet. Gabriel knew that she was ideal.
It was just that he would like her more if she made the occasional mistake.
Or smiled.
Annoyed to realise that he’d allowed himself to be diverted, Gabriel shut his attaché case with snap and headed for the door. ‘Oh, and book a table at Cupiditas,’ he remembered at the last moment. ‘Tonight, nine o’clock.’
Why could he never use the word ‘please’? Tess wondered. It wasn’t that hard to say. ‘For two?’
‘Yes, for two,’ he barked, irritated anew by her composure. Most people either fawned or trembled in his presence, but not Tess. No, she just sat there in her sensible grey suit and looked down her nose at him.
‘Certainly, Mr Stearne,’ she said.
Gabriel scowled. ‘I’ll be back later,’ he said, and strode out.
The moment he had gone, Tess retrieved the paper from the bin and smoothed out the crumpled page as she read the caption again, shaking her head in disbelief. Gabriel Stearne and Fionnula Jenkins! Who would have thought it?
All day, e-mails had been flying around the office about their unpopular new boss’s appearance in the gossip columns. Tess had seen them, and had assumed that it was all some kind of joke until one of the other secretaries had brought along a copy of yesterday’s paper to show her.
Now she studied the photograph, half expecting to spot that it was all a mistake, but no, it was definitely Gabriel. No one else had brows like that! Some of the girls in the office claimed to find him attractive, and were always dropping by in the hope of catching a glimpse of him, but Tess couldn’t see what the fuss was about. To her, Gabriel wasn’t broodingly handsome. He was just surly.
And there he was in the paper, looking as grimly formidable as ever, with Fionnula Jenkins clinging girlishly to his arm and smiling that famous Fionnula smile. Tess had never seen a more mismatched pair. Fionnula had all the gloss and glitz of a star. Gabriel was a workaholic, abrupt, impatient and, in Tess’s opinion at least, downright rude.
What did a celebrity like Fionnula see in him? Tess wondered as she tossed the paper back in the bin and dialled the restaurant’s number. Fionnula was beautiful and successful. She could have anybody she wanted, so why pick on Gabriel? It couldn’t be money, as Fionnula had plenty of her own, and it certainly wasn’t charm.
Perhaps, mused Tess, Fionnula was the kind of girl who liked a challenge. Gabriel’s reputation had preceded him from the States. He was known to be utterly ruthless and unsentimental. If Fionnula thought she could find a heart beating somewhere beneath that steely exterior, good luck to her, thought Tess wryly. She was welcome to him.
By six, she had everything ready for Gabriel’s return. His table was booked, and the letters, files and reports lay neatly arranged on his desk. Tess checked them automatically. She knew Gabriel was waiting to catch her out, but so far she hadn’t made so much as a typing error for him to complain about. It had become an unacknowledged battle of wills between them and, in a perverse kind of way, Tess almost enjoyed the challenge of keeping up with the punishing pace he set.
Now, she squared up the last paper and mentally congratulated herself. Gabriel would have to try a bit harder if he wanted her to be unable to cope.
Back at her desk, she sent Andrew a quick e-mail to tell him a cheque was on its way, and that she hoped to be able to send him more next week, and was just rehearsing the arguments she would make to Gabriel for a rise when the phone rang.
‘I’ve got a visitor here for Mr Stearne,’ said the receptionist. ‘She won’t give her name, but she says it’s personal.’
Tess looked at her watch. Gabriel hadn’t said anything about a visitor. She hoped this didn’t mean he wouldn’t have time to listen to her request for a rise after all. ‘You’d better send her up,’ she said, suppressing a sigh.
She wasn’t quite sure what she had expected Gabriel’s visitor to be like, but it certainly wasn’t the woman of about sixty who pushed a pram into the office a few minutes later.
Trying not to show her surprise, Tess took off her glasses and stood up with a polite smile. ‘Can I help you?’
The woman looked around her as if she couldn’t decide whether to be daunted or impressed. ‘I’m looking for Gabriel Stearne,’ she told Tess with a belligerent air.
‘I’m afraid he’s not here at the moment. I’m his assistant,’ Tess explained. ‘Perhaps I can help you?’
‘I don’t know if you can.’ Digging around under the pram, the visitor pulled out a copy of yesterday evening’s paper. It was folded open at the picture of Gabriel and Fionnula, and she tapped the photo. ‘This is your Gabriel Stearne?’ she asked doubtfully.
Tess looked down at the stern mouth, the dark, striking brows and the unsmiling face next to the sparkling Fionnula. ‘Yes, that’s Mr Stearne,’ she said.
‘He’s not what I expected,’ the woman confessed, frowning down at the picture with Tess. ‘Leanne said he was gorgeous. The most handsome man she’d ever met, she said.’ Her mouth turned down disparagingly. ‘I wouldn’t call him handsome, myself, would you?’
‘Not personally, no,’ said Tess. It wasn’t a very loyal answer, but it was hard enough putting up with his bad temper without having to rave about his looks as well.
‘Ah, well, that’s love for you.’
There was a tiny pause. ‘Love?’ she echoed cautiously.
‘That’s what Leanne called it. Leanne’s my daughter,’ the woman explained, seeing that Tess was still looking mystified. ‘She