The Boss's Unconventional Assistant. Jennie Adams

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Название The Boss's Unconventional Assistant
Автор произведения Jennie Adams
Жанр Контркультура
Серия 9 to 5
Издательство Контркультура
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781408903919



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Right. He’d probably sent the man back in a taxi or even had a company car and driver follow him out for the purpose. ‘No problem. I enjoy the chance to drive different vehicles.’

      Namely, she had driven Gertie and one other car—her brother-in-law Nate’s old restored convertible, which she still remembered with fondness. She’d worn a silk scarf around her neck and big sunglasses and pretended to be a movie star, and then she’d talked her landlady into going with her and done it all again. Fun!

      ‘I can spare you fifteen minutes to unload your belongings.’ He rose to his feet and hobbled towards the front door of the house. ‘Once that’s done, join me in the office. It’s the large room on the right as you come in. Your bedroom is upstairs, first on the left.’ With those words, he tugged the door open.

      It was going to be like that, was it? Come help me, I’ll even pay generously for you doing so, but don’t acknowledge my injuries?

      She could take care of him silently, if he wanted it that way, but Soph would perform all her duties to him.

      ‘Did you bring the voice recognition software package?’ He had lifted his foot off the floor, clearly because standing still on it had made it ache.

      ‘Yes, I collected it from the agency yesterday afternoon.’ She searched his face again. This time she looked beyond the appealing features to the weary lines around his eyes, the slight pallor of his face. Oh, yes. He needed to rest, get off that foot. Be pampered a little.

      ‘Bring me the software first.’ He stepped inside the door. ‘I’ll install it and get it going so I can at least send emails without your help and without having to type with one hand. Your first job will be the dictation I’ve done this morning.’

      It was barely nine a.m. Soph had risen at the crack of dawn to load her car and get here on time and the man had been at work for how long already?

      ‘I’m happy to do whatever works best for you.’ Provided it included appropriate care of his injuries. She turned away and moved towards Gertie. ‘I’ll bring the software package straight in, then sort out everything else.’

      Alfred would have to be secreted into the back garden for the moment. Soph would find the right opportunity to explain about him, but that moment didn’t seem to be now. It might be a good idea to impress her employer with her dedication and hard work for an hour or two, first.

      Inside the house, a phone rang.

      Soph turned back. ‘I’ll get that for you before I start to unpack.’

      She preceded him into the house and followed the ringing to its source in the office. ‘Sophia Gable. Mr Barlow is unavailable at the moment. Please give me your name, phone, fax and email and the reason for your call and I’ll relay it on your behalf.’

      ‘Peter Coates here. I head up the architecture department of Barlow Enterprises.’ He had a friendly voice, although right now it seemed to hold a hint of long-suffering. ‘I’m returning Grey’s call. He left a message saying he wanted another update on the Mitchelmore project.’

      ‘I’ll find out if Mr Barlow can speak with you.’ Soph pressed the hold button and swung around.

      Grey stood right behind her, closer than she had realised. Her heart did that little stutter thing again.

      She thrust the phone towards him and relayed the name of the caller. ‘He says you asked for another update on the Mitchelmore project. Do you want to speak to him?’

      ‘Yes, I’ll take it.’ He added a muttered, ‘Some things are too important to ignore, no matter what the doctor says.’

      This didn’t make a lot of sense to Soph, but she placed the phone into his hand anyway.

      Grey lowered himself into his office chair in a slightly awkward manoeuvre. Soph noticed that he didn’t have a footrest under there or anything.

      ‘Peter.’ His attention centred immediately on his caller. ‘Do you have any further news about the zoning issues?’

      Soph left him to it and scuttled outside to Gertie, grabbed the software package and hurried it back into the office. Her boss still had the phone to his ear so she left the package on the desk and raced back out to the car and a problematical but adorable rabbit.

      First she would take care of Alfie and then she would start to figure out how to best look after her boss.

      Collapsible rabbit cage and associated paraphernalia in one hand, Alfie in his basket in the other, Soph hurried to the back of the house. She breathed a sigh of relief as she spotted a part of the garden tucked away behind a tree and a flower border, and hidden from sight of the house by a big shed that had a mesh gate enclosing its front.

      ‘There’s plenty of long grass, Alfie.’ Soph tugged the collapsible enclosure upright and eased the rabbit inside, then ran to the back of the house and filled her pet’s water container.

      She set down the water and a bowl full of pellet supplement from the five kilogram bag she’d scrounged from a neighbour. It was just as well she knew someone with guinea pigs and that rabbits ate the same supplement. Soph placed a blanket over part of the cage for shade.

      Between the friendly single mum and Joe the mechanic, who had the cage from days gone by, Soph had her bases covered. Without these things, she didn’t know how she would have fed and housed Alfred, but she would have made it work somehow. She didn’t walk away from anyone who needed or relied on her.

      Not like her parents had done, but that was long ago.

      Soph returned to the car and unloaded the remainder of her things. It took several trips. She didn’t travel light and she’d brought a few things especially with her employer in mind. But she hurried, and soon presented herself in the office in time to hear Grey snarl a string of words into a headset. He then glared daggers at the resulting words as they appeared on his computer screen.

      ‘I dropped by the kitchen. Did you want anything specific for lunch today?’ A brief inventory had revealed staples—healthy enough ingredients, but nothing fancy. Fortunately, she’d brought her own extras so they wouldn’t have to be bored on the food front.

      Her boss drew the headphones off and tossed them on to the desk. ‘You can make sandwiches or something at twelve-thirty. Meanwhile—’ he gestured to the second desk ‘—you’ll sit there. Work your way through the tapes in the order they’re in the tray. You’ll email the correspondence to me to look over. Once I’m happy with it, you’ll fax or email each item as directed.’

      ‘Yes, Mr Barlow.’ Soph took the first tape and fitted it into the player on the second desk but she didn’t immediately sit down.

      ‘Grey will do.’ He turned away, retrieved his headset and started to growl again. He interspersed the words with occasional irritated clicks of his computer mouse and one-handed typing.

      It seemed the new voice program and he hadn’t fully come to an understanding as yet.

      Soph left the room, pulled a soft scatter cushion from one of the big squishy chairs in the living room and carried it back into the office. She grabbed two reams of copy paper from a box in the corner and, armed with packets of paper and cushion, dropped to her hands and knees beside his desk and edged underneath. ‘Okay, I’m ready. Lift your foot and I’ll scoot all this under.’

      He didn’t respond immediately and Soph wiggled a little. The floor felt hard beneath her knees, despite the curves on the rest of her.

      A hiss of breath followed and then some muffled words that sounded like, ‘Anything to get you out from under there.’ He lifted his foot.

      Soph gently moved the paper packages and cushion into place. ‘Try that and let me know if it’s soothing at all.’

      ‘Soothed is not the word that comes to my mind right now.’ He spoke in a controlled tone that, oddly, sent delicious warmth in a cascade down her spine. But he lowered his foot.