and complexity which make me gravitate towards him like the moon to the Earth, even though his ideas about women should repel me..
I have to put distance between us.
Shame it didn’t work with my assistant, who I was definitely not interested in. Cringing, I rest my head against the padded seat, mind zipping back to the time that work went from good to ugly without stopping at bad.
Then
My manager John was supportive and lovely, with years of experience that I learnt a lot from. The last of the old-fashioned gentlemen, he and his wife doted on their four grandchildren, even with his late shifts, and I loved listening to his stories about their youngest granddaughter’s quest for a full working monkey tail. He made coming to work a pleasure and everyone was sad when he retired early.
‘I’ll be leaving in three months’ time,’ he sank into the chair behind his desk, ‘and I think you should apply for my job.’
‘You do?’ I dropped into the chair opposite. ‘I’ve only been your PA for fifteen months.’
He smiled at me, adjusting one of the photos on his desk by a millimetre. ‘I’ve been part of your journey from casual bar staff to temporary front-of-house receptionist to supervising the whole customer-care team. You had some of the best sales when you worked on the floor – the customers love you – and your local marketing campaigns were very innovative. You were appointed PA because I’ve watched you grow passionate about the casino and thought your manner and organisational skills were exceptional.’
‘Thanks.’ I smiled, warmed by his praise.
‘I’m just calling it as I see it and in the last year you’ve only improved. You’ve got a knack for finances and the customer and are a capable young woman.’ He picked up his trademark silver fountain pen, placing it in the pot on his desk. ‘Which is why I campaigned so hard for the company to fund the business admin course.’
‘Yes, and I’ve really appreciated the support, the way you’ve let me interview colleagues, and have extra days off, or swap shifts.’
‘I know you’ve appreciated it.’ He sat further forward. ‘It’s been obvious in your dedication and energy.’
‘I’m glad,’ I smiled, tapping my Biro against my notepad. ‘And you know I value your opinion.’ I hesitated. ‘I am interested, but I’m worried it might be too soon.’
‘Nonsense.’ He waved a hand as if swatting away a hyperactive fly. ‘I have complete confidence in you. You know the job better than anyone, and you’ve seen me doing it up close and personal for long enough.’ He was right. Part of the reason for becoming his PA was to understand what it took to be a manager. ‘I think you’ve got the skills for it,’ he continued. ‘You just need to believe in yourself. Nothing ventured, nothing gained and all that.’
I hid a smile. He always came out with clichés. They were part of his charm and impossible not to inadvertently copy. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll give it some serious thought and let you know what I decide.’
Discussing the idea of applying with Jess, who’d replied with a heartening, ‘Go for it!’ I was stunned to be offered the job after a demanding recruitment process. My team leadership experience was limited and I was certain there were better-qualified candidates but John’s reference and the policy of internal progression meant I was given the chance to prove myself. For the first eighteen months I did, and it was fantastic. Mandy, the assistant I recruited directly from the reception team, was lovely. She was eager to please and efficient and we got on well. Then she went on maternity leave and decided not to return and I got handed Tony Ferrier as part of an internal transfer I never got to the bottom of.
In his mid-twenties, broad–shouldered, squat and slightly pinkish, he reminded me of an ex-public school boy, swaggering around the place from the beginning. But he was polite enough, did his work with a minimum of fuss and didn’t create any drama, so I didn’t think I had reason to worry. At first we got on okay and shared a few jokes.
One Monday I came into the office and frowned, studying him. ‘You look a bit green Tony. Are you all right to be here?’
‘Yes,’ he smiled looking sickly, his normally pink cheeks pale. ‘I’ve been on a stag weekend. The after-effects are getting to me, that’s all.’
‘Right. Well, take it easy, drink plenty of water,’ I disappeared into my office and came back out, handing him a pack of tablets and can of energy drink, ‘and make use of these.’
‘Thanks.’ Taking them from me gratefully: ‘Do you suffer with hangovers often then?’
‘No. I keep a stock of stuff hanging around for staff. It comes from most of them working into the early hours. It’s hard for them to fall asleep when they finish, they’re still buzzing, so there’s a tendency to go for after-work drinks.’
‘Right.’ He sighed and rubbed his head.
I smiled sympathetically. ‘Have you got some quiet work you can do?’
‘Filing?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Okay. I’ll take the phones for a few hours while you do that and then why don’t you knock off early? I can handle things on my own.’
‘If you’re sure … I wouldn’t want you to think—’
‘I don’t. It was a special occasion, wasn’t it? And you’ve been doing well the past few weeks. Everyone’s allowed a night out occasionally.’
‘Thanks. If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it.’
‘It’s fine. I know you won’t make a habit of it.’ A statement rather than a question, just so he knew I wouldn’t put up with it on a regular basis.
‘No.’ He groaned, rubbing his forehead again, ‘I won’t.’
‘So was it good?’ Leaning forward I pressed a few buttons on his handset to forward his calls to my phone, then looked up at him.
‘What?’
‘The stag do? What did you get up to? What’s the equivalent of tying someone to a lamppost nowadays?’
I glanced up, noting how bloodshot his pale-blue eyes were.
‘It was my older brother’s do. We made him dress as a woman and tell everyone we met that it was what he did to relax.’
I laughed, stepping back. ‘Oh, dear. Very mean.’
‘It was quite funny. It took some persuading but I won. He always says I get my own way, whatever I want,’ he said, returning my smile before going quiet. Our gaze held for a few seconds longer than polite and his smile widened.
Uh-oh, I thought. That’s not where I was going with this.
‘Anyway,’ I changed direction briskly, ‘I’d better get on with some work. And you’ve got that filing to do,’ I reminded him pointedly.
‘Yes.’
As I backed away, he held his place, still smiling at me, still trying to maintain eye contact. As I went back into my office I had a twinge of unease but dismissed it quickly.
Everything was fine for a few weeks. Then, one Friday afternoon, I dropped a file, muttering under my breath. Tony appeared next to me, squatting down to help gather up the papers, handing them to me, fingers brushing against mine.
‘Thanks,’ I fumbled out breathlessly, flustered by my show of clumsiness. As I stood up I realised too late we were way too close. But to step away too obviously would be rude so I stayed put, shuffling the paperwork into order.
Staring into my eyes, he brushed something off my cheek. ‘Eyelash.’
‘Thanks.’ It was a line, and an old one, but it may have been genuine, so I said nothing, just smiled and looked over my shoulder.