All He Wants For Christmas.... Kelly Hunter

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All He Wants For Christmas... - Kelly Hunter


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      With the day split wide-open and no work to fill it with, Ruby headed back to the office. To the desk she didn’t deserve and the job that took her two hours a day to do, when she was being paid for eight.

      ‘Is Russell in?’ she asked Bea, Russell’s proper PA—the one with her finger on the pulse of his business commitments, not his social ones.

      Bea nodded, and briefly lifted her gaze from the computer screen to favour Ruby with a laserlike stare. Bea was—without a doubt—ten times more imposing than Russell could ever hope to be. Not that anyone mentioned it.

      ‘Is he free?’

      Another nod and a half-smile this time. ‘Go on in.’

      Russell West did not cut a particularly fatherly figure, never mind that his hair was grey and the creases on his face had been there a while. He did cut an authoritative figure. ‘Russell, may I have a moment?’

      ‘What can I do for you, Ruby?’

      ‘You can accept my resignation.’ One didn’t beat around the bush with Russell West. Time was money. A great deal of money. ‘I’d like to finish up in the New Year, once we get your major social commitments out of the way.’

      ‘You mean the Chinese New Year?’

      ‘Nice try. I mean mid-January.’

      ‘Why?’ Russell leaned back in his chair, trusting his imposing office surroundings to work to his advantage, which they probably would have had she not been in and out of offices just as grand as this one all her life.

      ‘Bottom line? The job’s not big enough. I feel like I’m taking money for nothing.’

      ‘The company’s profit margin has gone up thirty-six per cent since you signed on, Ruby. That’s hardly nothing.’

      ‘Your social networking strategy needed some work, that’s all. But that was always going to be more of a consultant’s gig than an ongoing role. My work here is done. Nowadays, I’m just filling in time.’

      ‘You’re welcome to stay on, Ruby. You know that.’

      ‘I do know that.’ She smiled fondly at the older man. ‘And I can’t thank you enough for giving me work when I needed it. When no one else would. But I want to see if there’s still room for me in the world of law. Even if I have to work gratis for a while until I get the necessary accreditation and experience to go into a particular field. There’s family law. International law. Defence law. Fields where my father’s supposed transgressions won’t—or shouldn’t—reflect back on me. After that, I’ll look towards establishing my own business. It’s a solid plan, don’t you think?’

      ‘Well, it’s a solid thought,’ he said dryly. ‘I wouldn’t exactly call it a plan. Generally a plan requires details.’

      ‘I’m working on it,’ she said simply.

      ‘Do you need start-up capital?’

      ‘Are you offering it?’

      Russell steepled his hands, and regarded her thoughtfully. ‘Yes.’

      ‘Just like that?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Because of your former friendship with my father?’

      ‘Because I have every confidence in Ruby Maguire’s ability to succeed.’

      ‘Oh.’ Suddenly Ruby’s big-girl voice deserted her. ‘You’re very kind.’

      ‘I prefer to use the word astute. Okay, Ruby, resignation accepted. Let Bea know when you want to finish up. And, Ruby, I realise it’s late notice but I do hope you’ll join me and my family for a meal over this Christmas break. Say, tomorrow night or even Christmas Day if you prefer?’

      ‘Russell, thank you, but—’

      ‘Christmas is a time for family, I agree,’ he interrupted gruffly. ‘But when family isn’t around you make do. You’ve already met Damon, and I’ve no doubt the girls will enjoy your company. Try making do with us.’

      ‘I—’

      ‘Make it Christmas Eve? That way you can join us at the restaurant. You booked for five people, didn’t you?’

      ‘Yes, but—’

      ‘We’ll swing by your apartment and pick you up at quarter to seven.’ ‘No, I—’

      But Russell and steamroller tactics were old friends. ‘Excellent,’ he said and offered up a small smile. ‘Join us, Ruby. There’s plenty of room at our table. We have family missing this year too.’

      Damon met Poppy at the arrival gate and together they hit an airport bar and settled down to wait for Lena. No point dropping Poppy off at the apartment, according to Poppy, and, seeing as it was Poppy’s jet lag they were juggling, Damon went with whatever made his sister happy. A bottle of mineral water and an order of mini spring rolls would hold them. A chance to talk to Poppy alone wouldn’t hurt either.

      ‘Have you heard from Jared?’ she wanted to know as they settled into the comfiest seats they could find, and Damon watched a little bit of the light go out of his sister’s eyes when he answered no.

      ‘Do you know where he is?’ she said next. Different question altogether.

      ‘Not yet, but I think Lena was right and that Jared’s working a job for someone in ASIS. I found a three-month-old file that has Jared’s employee number embedded in it but other than that it’s fully encrypted. It needs translating. Or decoding. Possibly both. Want to give it a shot?’

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘It’s probably not a piece of paper you want to go waving around the corridors of Academia.’

      ‘I gathered that,’ she said lightly. ‘It’s probably not something you’d want to trust anyone with.’

      Poppy propped her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. ‘You really don’t want to give it to me, do you?’

      ‘I really don’t.’ It went against every instinct Damon possessed to drag Poppy into his world of subterfuge and secrets. ‘And don’t trust computers. Even yours.’

      ‘Are you always this paranoid?’

      ‘I’m entitled.’ Damon sipped his wine and considered his words. ‘This one’s playing out a little too close to home for comfort, Poppy. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves. We don’t know what Jared’s got himself into, or who’s running him. Time to be careful.’

      ‘I’ll be careful,’ said Poppy quietly.

      By the time Lena’s plane touched down humour had been restored and Damon and Poppy had vacated the bar in favour of waiting for Lena at the arrival gates.

      When Lena did finally emerge, she did it from a customs side door, meaning that customs had processed her separately, and she walked with the aid of a stick and the speed of a ninety-year-old. Her once gamine face now looked gaunt and the glaze in her eyes told him that pain ruled her these days. An airport employee walked beside her, towing a suitcase, and the relief on his face as Lena spotted them and waved was palpable.

      So much for the full recovery Lena had been spouting about over the phone for the past two weeks.

      ‘Miss West preferred not to avail herself of our wheelchair services,’ said the airport employee, and with an almost-salute and a harried smile he handed the luggage off to Damon and disappeared back the way he’d come.

      ‘Told you I could walk,’ said Lena into the silence that followed, and Damon drew her silently into his arms for a hug, horrified anew by his sister’s frailty and the quiet terror he saw in Poppy’s eyes as she stared at her sister.

      ‘You look wonderful,’ said Lena as Damon released her. ‘Both of you. It’s


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