the next day. In her mind’s eye she could still see the look of frustrated fury on his darkly handsome face as Selina and Amy had had the temerity to laugh.
True, he had made another attempt to change her mind much later. He had walked into her bedroom and tried, with his sexual expertise, to kiss her into submission. But knowing his lover Selina was downstairs had given Bea the strength to remain cold in his arms. How long she could have continued doing so was anybody’s guess. Because she’d still wanted him, even as she’d hated herself for feeling that way. But the arrival of Tany to check that Bea was all right had stopped Leon cold. And, in Tany’s presence, Bea had given him back his ring.
Yawning widely, Bea turned over and curled up into a foetal position. She yawned again. Tomorrow was the first day of the rest of her life. The past was past. Leon was no threat to her peace of mind any more, she told herself groggily. As for her reaction to his kiss earlier, it was simply because she had drunk too much champagne and he had caught her off guard. It would never happen again. Only a fool made the same mistake twice, and at twenty-one, with a degree in her pocket, Bea was nobody’s fool...
The drive down to London was not as bad as Bea had expected. The Sunday traffic was light, and she arrived at the underground car park of the mansion block that housed her late father’s apartment at five in the evening. It was a simple matter to transfer her two suitcases to the lift, and moments later she was plonking them on the bed in the only bedroom.
Her father had originally had his office in Newcastle, but after the death of Nick Gregoris, and Leon taking the place of his father, the firm had expanded rapidly. The English headquarters had been moved to London, at Leon’s instigation. Bea had been twelve when her father had begun travelling to London on a Monday and staying two or three days, safe in the knowledge that Bea was at school all day and Lil was there to look after her.
Glancing around the familiar bedroom, Bea thought fondly of the times in the school holidays when her dad had taken her to London with him occasionally. With a shake of her fair head, she told herself not to get sentimental, and set about unpacking her belongings.
Ten minutes later she stared in amazement at the kitchen table. Someone had anticipated her arrival. A huge vase full of red roses was at the centre, and propped against it was an envelope. Picking it up, she quickly slit it open and withdrew a sheet of notepaper. She recognised the bold, sloping writing immediately. It was from Leon—a rather childish poem.
Enjoy the roses while you may
Tomorrow is a working day. The fridge is stocked, the larder too Behave yourself until I’m with you.
A small smile twitched her full lips; she had forgotten. Almost every time she had seen Leon when she was a child he had made up a stupid rhyme for her. She racked her brain, trying to remember the first one.
The lovely lady fair
Almost lost her hair By playing near a willow When she should have been asleep on her pillow
Bea’s grin broadened. Leon had been good fun as an uncle figure. Pity their relationship had not stayed that way. The smile faded from her face to be replaced with a frown.
What did he mean, until I’m with you? The note fell unnoticed from her hand and quickly she turned around. Bea opened the refrigerator door and was not surprised to see it stocked full, including a bottle of white wine. The cupboard was the same. Uneasily she walked into the living room and glanced around. Had Leon been here? And, more importantly, how the hell had he got in? She had the only key. Anyway, he was supposed to be in America.
Suddenly the safety of her apartment seemed threatened, and she didn’t like it, not one bit... Think, woman, think, she told herself. Of course! A sigh of relief escaped her and she sank down on the sofa. The caretaker had a master key. Leon must have sent the note and instructions to provide the goodies to the caretaker.
Relieved to have the mystery settled, she made full use of the food provided to make herself an omelette and salad, washed down with a glass of wine, then she went to bed.
‘Ready to go yet, Bea?’
Bea glanced up and smiled at the tall red-headed girl asking the question. Actually, Margot was a woman in every sense of the word, about thirty-eight years old. As personal assistant to Tom Jordan, she knew everything about the business.
‘I thought, if you have nothing special to do tonight, we could stop off for a pizza and a glass of wine or two on the way home.’
‘Oh, sorry, Margot, I forgot to mention—I’ve arranged to meet a boyfriend for dinner and I’m going straight from here.’
‘Ah, a heavy date with the male of the species—and you with only two weeks of living in the city. How do you do it?’
Bea grinned. ‘His name is Jack, I’ve known him for years, and he comes from my home town.’
‘Interesting, is he?’ Margot queried, with a suggestive flicker of her eyebrows.
‘Well, he did once tie me up.’
‘Bondage... This I must hear. If you get back before eleven pop in and tell me all about him. It’s about the only way I get a thrill nowadays. Vicariously.’
‘Liar,’ Bea chuckled. ‘I’ve heard you on the telephone to a certain financial advisor in the office three floors above us.’
Margot winked. ‘Enough said. Tom left half an hour ago, so I’m off. Enjoy yourself.’ And, closing the door behind her as she left, Bea heard her shout, ‘Don’t forget to lock the outer door.’
A lingering smile played around Bea’s lips. She could still hear a mumble coming from next door—probably Margot talking to herself. She was prone to speaking her thoughts out loud.
Though Bea hated to admit that Leon could be right about anything, he had been right about Margot becoming a friend. Over the past two weeks the two women had developed a good working relationship, and had also become firm pals.
The offices of Stephen-Gregoris occupied the first floor of a prestigious block in the heart of the city, and, arriving for work on her first day, Bea had naturally felt nervous. A rather superior blonde girl had shown her to what was to be her office, but in fact was a small partitioned section of Margot’s much larger one, which in turn led straight to the manager’s. Then Margot had walked out of Tom Jordan’s office, apologised for not being there to greet her, and had immediately taken Bea under her wing.
Only Tom Jordan and Margot knew Bea owned part of the company, but Margot showed no resentment at the fact. She had taken Bea on a tour of the office, and introduced her to all the staff with the explanation that Bea was the new graduate trainee who was to work in each department for a few weeks to get the feel of the operation and would probably end up in the finance section.
The fact that Margot’s apartment was in the same block as Bea’s was an added bonus. They’d quickly decided to travel to work together, and had shared the occasional meal or a gossip over coffee.
Stretching, Bea glanced at her watch: it was after six. She was meeting Jack at Covent Garden, a short taxi ride away. Jack had done extremely well for himself; he’d gained a first at Oxford and for the past two years had held a high-profile job with a top merchant bank in London. It would be good fun to catch up on all his news.
With
