Conall an irritated glance. What did he think she’d been doing for the past six months while Derek slid further and further down the slippery slope of depression? Hiding in a cupboard?
‘I’m sure I’ll manage somehow.’ Ripping her gaze away from his unwanted scrutiny, she wished she wasn’t so acutely aware of the intimate confines of the luxurious car, with its cream leather upholstery and connotations of wealth and power.
‘Why did his wife leave him?’
Conall’s question took Morgen completely by surprise. Her hand was on the door handle beside her, but she withdrew it onto her lap, tucking her hair behind her ear as she spoke.
‘He said she couldn’t cope with his success. She was trying to forge her own career as a singer and felt that Derek didn’t support her enough. They came from very different backgrounds, and in the end I suppose they just wanted different things. The differences just became too much to withstand—for Nicky anyway.’
Shrugging, she stared down at her own ringless hands, fighting off the unexpected sense of failure that suddenly descended on her out of nowhere. She didn’t want to think about Simon, her ex-husband, but her last two sentences might have been describing their own disastrous union—brief though it had been. He had been an ex-pupil of Eton, one of the foremost public schools in the country, then gone on to medical school. When Morgen had met him he’d just been promoted to a registrar’s job at Guy’s Hospital, and his charm and total self-confidence had swept her away.
His parents were wealthy and his father, an eminent heart surgeon, had been knighted in the Queen’s honours list. Morgen hadn’t exactly received the red carpet treatment from his family, and straight from the off she’d known she wasn’t good enough for their darling Simon. How could she be? She’d gone to a mixed comprehensive in South London, then trained as a secretary at a local technical college. Her father had been a bricklayer and her mother a school secretary. It went without saying that her family had hardly moved in the same illustrious circles the Vaughan-Smiths had frequented.
‘These things happen.’ Not taking his eyes from her, Conall wondered what she was thinking. ‘He’ll have to get over it soon. Especially if he wants to keep his job.’
‘Derek isn’t deliberately sabotaging his future. The man is in a lot of pain, for goodness’ sake!’
Fielding off the frosty stare that accompanied Morgen’s words, Conall knew she was probably thinking he was a hard bastard—someone who didn’t give a damn about the people who worked for him as long as they helped the firm turn a profit. The truth was that he cared passionately about bringing out the best in people, and was only too happy to share the fruits of his own success with them when they did. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be tough when he had to be…ruthless, even.
As far as he could see Derek Holden had wallowed in his own self-pity long enough. If something were not done about that soon, it wouldn’t just be the man’s job that went down the pan, it would be his life. O’Brien and Stoughton could easily hire another architect, but Derek couldn’t be brought back from the dead.
‘I’m well aware that the man needs help—professional help. In the meantime I’ll be taking over things for a little while. You’ll be working directly for me, Miss McKenzie. Think you can handle that?’
He couldn’t help needling her, if only to see her react. Her captivating face instantly revealed her unhappiness. Her emotions were laid bare, and Conall realised it wasn’t easy for her to don the civil mask of control that professionalism required. Not when in reality she was in turmoil. Inexplicably he felt himself warm to her in a way he hadn’t warmed to a woman in a long time. And the prospect of being ‘hands on’ in the office while Derek took a necessary sabbatical—with Morgen as his assistant—suddenly appealed much more than it probably had a right to. As soon as he got back to his sister’s flat in Highgate Conall would telephone the New York office and let them know he was extending his stay in the UK indefinitely.
‘I can handle anything you care to throw at me, Mr O’Brien. Why don’t you try me and see? Part of my secretarial course curriculum was how to deal with difficult people. In fact I specialised in it! See you back at the office.’ And with that Morgen slipped out of the car, slamming the door behind her.
Conall laid his head back on the cream rest and mused that her hostility was probably a bonus. It would make it all the sweeter when she finally decided it was worth her while to be nice to him. Priding himself on knowing women as well as he did, and having personal experience that wealth and status in life were powerful aphrodisiacs—especially when it came to attraction—Conall didn’t doubt that that would soon be the case…
CHAPTER THREE
AT THREE-THIRTY that afternoon Morgen made her way to the ladies’ washroom to freshen up. Staring at her reflection in the bank of mirrors, she frowned at the soft bluish shadows beneath her eyes. She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t acknowledge she looked just about as tired as she felt, but her spirits were lifted a little despite the tension of the morning because she’d heard from her mother that Neesha was more or less back to her old self today.
Reflecting on that fact now, she let her shoulders drop a little with relief. That meant that her daughter could go back to school tomorrow and her mother could go back home. Relationships were strained between them at the best of times, but none more so than when Morgen asked her to take care of Neesha for her when she was sick. Lorna McKenzie did not approve of women working full-time when their children were small. Truth to tell, Morgen might have shared the same conviction if Simon hadn’t walked out on her less than a year into their marriage, drastically diminishing her options.
For a man who’d initially been over the moon to hear she was pregnant, he’d soon changed his tune as his wife’s pregnancy had advanced. He dealt with sick people all the time, but he had professed he was unable to cope when Morgen was wretched with morning sickness. That, coupled with her lack of desire to socialise with his friends and never seeing eye-to-eye with his parents, had been good enough grounds for him to end the marriage as far as he was concerned. Besides, he really hadn’t liked the idea of being ‘tied down,’ he’d explained as he was leaving. His career came first, and he really hadn’t been sure whether fatherhood was for him after all. He was willing to help support her and the baby, but only until Morgen could return to work full time, at which time his future contributions would be for the child only.
‘The child.’ Simon still rarely referred to his daughter by her given name. She didn’t see him from one month to the next anyway. By now Simon had made Specialist Registrar, and was on the fast track to becoming a consultant. He worked long hours and in his free time liked to play sport and socialise with his well-connected friends. As far as Neesha’s grandparents went, Elizabeth and Terence Vaughan-Smith wanted nothing to do with their grandchild—they hadn’t agreed with the marriage in the first place, so why should they acknowledge a child of that union?
Morgen stared hard into her own eyes and bit back the overwhelming desire to cry.
‘Don’t you dare, Morgen McKenzie!’ she whispered harshly through gritted teeth, returning her pale rose lipstick to her make-up bag. ‘You didn’t cave in when the bastard walked out on you; you’re not caving in now!’ Her defences were low because she was tired, that was all. But her heart ached just the same for Neesha, because her father and his family had more or less rejected her.
Oh, well. Such was life. She wasn’t the only one who’d had hard times and she certainly wouldn’t be the last. Look at poor Derek. What would become of him if he were unable to turn his addiction around? At the thought of her boss she glanced down at
