know you won’t. I’ll get to work.’ Molly stuffed the bag into her drawer, drew a shaky breath and brought up the phone-manual file on her computer and started to read it.
The first appointment came and went. The client didn’t withdraw her business, but Jarrod’s jaw was tight when Molly made coffee and took it in to him. Appointment number two was worse. The elderly man had made up his mind before he even came through the door. He was out again five minutes later, and Molly knew they’d lost him.
Two more phone calls came in requesting urgent appointments, and they had a walk-in as well whom Jarrod saw immediately.
When the last appointment finally left for the day, Molly had five minutes to go if she wanted to catch her bus. She made her way to Jarrod’s office and stood just inside the door.
He sat strong and straight behind his desk as always. It was only because she knew him so well that she could see the tension beneath the surface.
‘How bad—?’
‘Eight million short-term investment dollars gone, spread across three different clients. Mrs Armiga is sitting on the fence on the issue for now. I successfully reassured the other client.’ His eyes closed briefly in a small sign of weariness he wouldn’t have wanted her to notice. ‘If the clients who withdrew their short-term monies had been able, they’d have taken the rest of their funds today as well.’
The clients had signed investment agreements. ‘They have to honour the arrangements they’ve made with you.’
He shook his head. ‘True in theory, but, with the alternative that they would immediately start legal proceedings to get the funds released, I agreed to transfer control to them. That will be done on Monday.’
Molly’s mouth tightened and angry words burst out. ‘I hope their investments do badly. I hope they buy stocks and bonds that sink without a trace. I hope their favourite underwear gets washed with a colour-leaky red shirt that’s covered in fluff and has paper in the pockets!’
‘I’ll recoup the losses, Molly.’ His low words were warm, calming, a little amused in a grim kind of way—encouraged as well as encouraging?
Jarrod gestured her closer to his desk. ‘I know we’ve run over time. Give me your address details. We need to be at the venue tonight at seven p.m.’ He explained the general location.
She nodded, remembered the whole ‘Mollyrella goes into society’ thing, and her stomach knotted afresh. Well, she couldn’t pull out, could she? Eight million dollars gone already, more on the way.
The three-faceted attack plan needed to be put into action just as much as Jarrod had intimated. ‘The trip should take about half an hour from my flat.’
‘I’ll call for you at six-thirty. Can you be ready in time? If not, I can drive you home now as well.’
He’d never done that, had never offered, or needed to.
‘I could take a taxi both ways tonight.’ Would it cost a lot? Probably. ‘And I can make the bus on time now.’ She shifted in the chair on the other side of his desk and tried not to notice how good he looked backlit by the city’s skyscape—tall buildings, cloudless sky. Battle-sharp hazel eyes watched her so intently.
‘No taxi. I want to brief you further on the way there.’
Right. ‘I’ll just jot down my address, then. It’s on file, but this will be quicker for you.’
And babble out the ridiculous while she was at it. Molly bit her lip, and reached for his sticky notepad and a pen. As she handed the address over, she asked one last question. ‘Do you think Mrs Armiga will come round?’
‘I don’t know. She listened to what I had to say, and then said she’s always thought I looked too smooth.’ He got to his feet in a sharp movement. ‘What does she mean by that? Well, the outcome is our client is not convinced she can trust me, but she hasn’t pulled her file—yet, at least.’
I’d say you’re more whisky-smooth: delicious, but with a kick.
She hadn’t said that aloud, had she? No, of course not.
Get a grip, Molly!
‘Tonight we’ll start to turn the tide back our way. You’ve got some great cutting-edge strategies you’ve implemented even in the last month.’ Molly headed for her office, drew out her handbag and the carrier bag. ‘We’ll talk the business up, and people will begin to realise the rumours can’t be true.’
Jarrod followed behind her. ‘Don’t be worried for me, Molly, will you? I’m annoyed as hell, and I won’t stop until this situation is completely resolved, but it will be.’
‘I know. I have complete faith in you.’ Not so much in herself, but she’d committed to this now and she wouldn’t turn back. Not while he needed her.
He paused with his hand on the light switch, and for a moment his brows drew down and his gaze flared as he stared at her. Then he shook his head, flicked the switch, and they stepped out.
They got into the lift. Molly breathed in and out and commanded herself to calm down. That look…Well, it had just been a look, right?
She was all out of sorts. It was the dress, and the stress, and spending his money on herself, and having to dive into that social world, all together. Belly flop, more like.
‘You’re not too smooth.’ She spoke the words to fill the silence, and then attempted to explain. ‘I don’t mean you’re not smooth personally. I’m sure you’re as smooth as is appropriate, and that’s none of my concern, anyway. But, in business, you’re exactly the right amount of non-smooth.’
‘Thank you.’ Did his lips twitch before he turned away? ‘I appreciate that explanation.’
Molly faced forward and wished they’d get to street level. When they finally did, she scooted off the lift so fast she almost didn’t fit through the gap in the still-opening doors.
‘I’ll be ready at six-thirty.’ She would completely get over this feeling of impending panic between now and then, take control of herself and be ready to present an utterly businesslike front when he called to collect her.
Yes. That was much better. ‘I’ve got the work PDA with me. I’ll bring it as we agreed, so I can keep track of names and information. Goodbye.’ Molly bolted and didn’t look back, even if she was a little tempted.
She half-jogged her way to the bus stop and tried not to feel uptight about the upcoming events. With a PDA in her hand and a clear agenda, this didn’t have to feel all that different from a day in the office.
And what if it took a week, or two weeks, or a month, or three months, before she could safely draw back? All that time at her boss’s side—days, weekends, evenings—to make it really hard to remember he was her boss and she was his PA, and nothing else could possibly be…
Nonsense.
Nonsense, the idea of them being anything else to each other, and to this taking three months. The rumour issue would be resolved fast and that was that!
In
