their total commitment to their brilliant but eccentric leader.
Prepared as she had been for an objection to her decision to resign, Kalera was taken aback by the violence of Duncan’s reaction. She knew that she was good at her job because he was as quick to praise as he was to anger, but she was hardly irreplaceable. It wasn’t as if she was one of his resident computer geniuses, or in any way unique in her organisational skills; she was simply a useful cog in his administrative machine.
Surely he couldn’t already know…?
‘You make it sound as if I’m quitting without notice,’ she protested. ‘But I’m not leaving you in the lurch—I did say I’m quite happy to work out the four weeks stated in my contract—’
‘Damn your contract; you know that’s not what I’m talking about!’ he thundered.
She stiffened. Just because she disliked scenes, that didn’t mean she was afraid to stand up for herself. ‘There’s no need to shout, Duncan,’ she said coldly. ‘I’m not deaf—’
‘No, just dumb!’ He slammed a frustrated fist on the desk with a force that rattled her computer keyboard.
‘If I’m that stupid then you should be pleased to see me go,’ she snapped, guiltily aware that her offer to work her notice was merely a token gesture. Once he found out the truth, Duncan wouldn’t want her within a mile of his hallowed domain.
‘Not that sort of dumb!’ He started to pace. ‘You couldn’t talk this over with me first? What…am I so inaccessible…so impossible to talk to that you couldn’t even bring yourself to mention that you were thinking of leaving?’
He stopped in front of her desk again, his arms shooting out wide as his incredulous tone denounced the sheer ridiculousness of the notion. He had an open-door policy towards his staff and most of them took full advantage of the opportunity to express their opinions and ideas freely.
Kalera’s thick lashes swept down to conceal the expression in her soft grey eyes as she concentrated on folding and re-folding the edge of the letter. ‘I’m sorry…but, after all, it was my decision to make. It had nothing to do with you—’
She realised as soon as the words were out of her mouth that she had made a tactical error.
‘Are you trying to tell me that it’s none of my business when an employee quits out of the blue, without even bothering to give a reason?’ Duncan exploded afresh. ‘No, dammit, not just an employee—a friend, Kalera…’
A wave of fresh guilt swept over her as a dark-complexioned face framed by a profusion of short Rasta braids and beads suddenly popped around the open door that was the main entrance to Kalera’s office.
‘Hey, girl, what’s all this racket—? Oh, hi, Chief, I should have known it would be you…From the sound of it, I thought Kalera had a pack of Rottweilers loose in here!’
Duncan glared at his young assistant’s irreverent grin. ‘Do you mind, Anna? You’re interrupting a private conversation.’
‘Oh, really?’ Anna Ihaka advanced into the doorway, her coffee-coloured eyes darting eagerly from one to the other. ‘What about?’
‘I’ll tell you later,’ said Kalera hurriedly, hearing Duncan’s breath rattle ominously in his throat.
‘Oh, OK—give me a buzz when he’s finished his rant and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee.’ Anna was incurably cheerful and totally unsquashable, the perfect assistant for a man who, in a bad mood, was the Sultan of Squash.
‘I’ll just close this door for you on my way out, then, shall I, Chief?’ she added sweetly. ‘Only, we can hear the punctuation marks in your private conversation all over the floor, you see, and it’s a bit off-putting for poor Bryan who’s trying to give a demo and impress some very snooty clients with our discretion.’ She snicked the door smartly shut before he could get in the last word.
‘I’m going to wring that girl’s neck one of these days,’ growled Duncan, and saw the expression on Kalera’s face. ‘What have you got to smirk about?’
Kalera hastily straightened the wayward corners of her mouth. She had obviously handled this all wrong, but perhaps it wasn’t too late to amend her error. ‘Look, there’s a very good reason for my wanting to leave—’ she began huskily.
‘Really? Did I miss something?’ He leaned over and plucked the letter out of her fidgeting fingers, unravelling the folds and reading from it with a deadly sarcasm which mocked the stark formality of the words:
“‘I have enjoyed my term of employment with Labyrinth Technology—” Huh!’ His snort was eloquent with contempt for her flattering opening. “‘But due to a change in my personal circumstances I regret to inform you that I wish to tender my resignation with such notice as required under the terms of my contract.” Change in personal circumstances?’ he lowered the page to repeat furiously. ‘What in the hell is that supposed to mean?’
Kalera moistened her suddenly dry lips with a little flick of her tongue. Was it better to blurt it out, or lead up to it gently? She was no longer certain.
While she hesitated, Duncan was already darting ahead with his customary impatience.
‘You can’t have got a better job,’ he decided with arrogant confidence. ‘This one is tailor-made for your talents—after all, you virtually designed it yourself when you came to work for me. You’re much more than just a secretary; you manage the whole office. You’ve always seemed to enjoy working with me. Is it the money? Have you decided I don’t pay you enough?’
The question was absurd. Duncan might be possessive about his ideas, but he was notoriously over-generous with money. He drove his accountants mad with his insistence on sharing his profits with his employees via bonuses, gifts and royalty percentages on software which they had helped to develop. So well did he treat his workers that no competitor had yet succeeded in bribing or head-hunting away a Labyrinth employee.
‘Yes, of course you do. But I—’
‘Aren’t you happy here?’
If he stopped peppering her with questions she might be able to get out a satisfactory answer. ‘I’ve been very happy here, but—’
‘But! But what?’ he cut in roughly. ‘But you’re not now? Why? Is there some problem you haven’t been telling me about? Your working conditions and environment haven’t changed, so what else could it be?’ His lightning-fast brain sorted through the possible options and his eyes suddenly narrowed threateningly. ‘Has someone been harassing you?’
She was bewildered by his sudden change in tack. ‘Harassing me?’
‘Sexually. Making suggestive remarks, brushing up against you, touching you, that kind of thing—making you feel unsafe at work?’
Her mouth opened and closed and she flushed with mortification.
He pounced. ‘My God, that’s it, isn’t it?’ He rounded the desk and swivelled her chair to face him, ignoring her squeak of surprise as he crouched in front of her and picked her limp left hand out of her lap.
‘Who is it?’ He sandwiched her hand between his smooth, warm palms and lowered his voice coaxingly.
