Christmas Seduction. Sarah Morgan

she silently thanked him for it—was, as she had supposed, ‘Leave everything with me, Astra—I’ll double check it all myself. But if there has definitely been a mistake it will have to be put right. Perhaps you’ll come and see me in the morning.’

      She left him and went straight home. That evening, knowing she had no alternative, Astra wrote out her resignation. She did not sleep well but even when she had so much else to think about one tall, black-haired, dark-eyed man whom she had met that day—and oh, she so earnestly wished she hadn’t—seemed to return to her mind again and again. Oh, clear off, she fumed, punching her pillow; but for him and his interference, she might have got a decent night’s sleep. Well, one thing was for sure—she was glad she was never going to have to see Sayre Baxendale again!

      Astra still felt very much shaken by what had happened when she presented herself at Norman Davis’s office in the morning. He was not a happy being, she could tell; she knew the feeling. Clearly his checks had shown the same results as hers—she had fallen down extremely badly on the job.

      Before she handed him her resignation, however, Astra informed him that she personally would make financial reparation to their client—only for her offer to be refused. ‘Yarroll Finance will take care of that,’ Norman Davis insisted, letting her know, if she didn’t already, how worthy the company was of its highly esteemed reputation. She had sold the plan in the company’s name; the company would, therefore, take care of compensation.

      There seemed nothing else to do but to hand him her resignation. Norman Davis didn’t look any happier but, as she had seen no alternative but to resign, she knew he had no alternative but to accept her resignation.

      ‘I can’t tell you how sorry I am.’ He took the words she had been going to say out of her mouth. ‘Your work until now has been exemplary. You were tipped for much higher things.’

      ‘I’m sorry I let you down,’ Astra answered quietly, this, the whole nightmare of it, a bitter pill to swallow. They shook hands and he walked to the door with her. ‘Will you write to Mr Baxendale?’ she felt honour-bound to ask—she didn’t want to have to do it, yet, for the sake of the company, it couldn’t be ignored.

      ‘I’ll clear up the Cummings end first, then drop him a line thanking him for his interest and letting him know the matter has been settled to Mr Cummings’s satisfaction,’ he answered, and warmed her down-on-the-floor feeling by giving her arm an affectionate fatherly squeeze before letting her go.

      Norman Davis had let her off working out her notice, so Astra went home and tried to put it all behind her. It was not that easy. Apart from the humiliation of having to resign, she was used to hard work, enjoyed hard work, and without it she felt bereft. She couldn’t settle to do anything. To pick up a book and try to bury herself in its pages was beyond her.

      She thought of phoning Yancie, but her cousin would be upset for her and, given that it looked as if Yancie was going to be visited by a coven of mothers, Astra didn’t want her newly-returned-from-honeymoon cousin to be upset on her behalf. Her other close confidante, Fennia, was still on her honeymoon.

      When Astra’s inner disquiet got too much for her, she telephoned her father in Barbados. ‘How’s my best dad?’ she asked him brightly.

      ‘Wanting to see his best daughter,’ he answered his only child. ‘When are you coming to see me? You can’t work all the time, you know, sweetheart.’

      ‘As a matter of fact…’

      Her phone call to her father lasted about twenty minutes. As a parent he wanted to slay all her dragons. As a former businessman of high integrity, he appreciated that Yarroll Finance had taken the only course they could: to indemnify their client, and to accept her resignation.

      Astra went to bed that night trying to pin her thoughts on something other than the ghastly happenings since she had yesterday walked into Sayre Baxendale’s office, introduced herself and held out her hand.

      She now knew why he had refused to shake hands with her—oh, didn’t she just! He’d made no bones about stating he thought she was more interested in her fat commission and it was hard luck for any poor sucker of a client who came into her orbit. Sayre Baxendale…

      Oh, get out of my head, do, Baxendale. Now, should she go and stay with her father for a while—if he had his way she would go and live with him—or should she look around for another job?

      She felt very pulled towards going to visit her father, but felt too restless to lounge around in Barbados doing nothing. Yet she shied away from the idea of looking for another job—should indeed any firm in the same line of business want to employ her after this!

      Fortunately she was in a position where she didn’t have to work. But the loss of the job she had loved and had strived so tirelessly to be perfect at was too new for her to be able to contemplate working in any other field, just yet.

      Her feeling of being bereft was still with her the next morning. It seemed odd not to have to go along to the study and make a few business phone calls. She decided to pay her mother’s half-sister a visit.

      ‘Well, look who’s here!’ her aunt Delia exclaimed delightedly.

      ‘You’re not going out? I should have phoned.’

      ‘No, you shouldn’t. You know I’m always pleased to see you. You’re usually much too busy in that career of…’ She broke off. ‘Something’s happened, hasn’t it?’

      ‘You always did know the three of us better than most.’

      ‘I’ve always been glad the three of you have felt able to come to me when something has troubled you,’ she answered.

      Shrewd, lovely aunt. Astra realised her aunt had seen beneath her smile and light-heartedness, had seen that something was troubling her. ‘I’ve resigned from my job,’ Astra owned.

      ‘Oh, my dear! You love—loved—that job so much! What on earth happened to make you do such a thing?’

      It was not very pleasant to have to confess to her nearest and dearest that she hadn’t had the luxury of an option but to resign. But, simply because her aunt Delia was so near and dear to her, to evade or lie to her was out of the question. So she gave her aunt a brief outline of what had happened.

      ‘You’re every inch your father,’ her aunt replied after a moment. Astra had been guarding for years against any sign that she might be like her mother, so was very much cheered by her aunt’s opinion. But, ignoring that Astra hadn’t had much choice but to resign, Delia Alford was going on, ‘Your mother would never in this world have acted so honourably. Though, come to think of it,’ she smiled, ‘it would never have occurred to her to get herself a job in the first place.’

      Astra felt much better for her visit to her aunt Delia, but as the weekend came and went time started to hang very heavily on her hands.

      Her cousin Yancie phoned her on Tuesday with the dreaded news that the two mothers-in-law were coming to stay. ‘You wouldn’t care to pull the plug on that computer and come to dinner on Saturday, would you?’

      Confession time. ‘Er—there’s no computer plug to pull,’ Astra answered lightly. And, in the same light vein, she explained that she no longer had a job.

      ‘I’m on my way!’ Yancie said at once.

      ‘No, you’re not.’

      ‘You lived and breathed that job—something must have happened. I’ll come over.’

      ‘There’s no need.’

      ‘You’re upset.’

      ‘I’ll be more upset if you take time out from whatever it is you’re doing to come and hold my hand. Besides, I’ll be seeing you on Saturday evening,’ Astra replied.

      ‘I’ll…’ Yancie broke off. ‘You’ll come on Saturday and help take the pressure off?’ she exclaimed.

      ‘Would I let you down?’