man who wore shoes and socks all week did to achieve that. Lie in one of those sunbeds at the gym? Or swim a lot in an outdoor pool? If so, where? She knew he lived in a high-rise apartment in an exclusive complex down on the harbour foreshore at Kirribilli, so it probably sported a pool. Exclusive ones usually did.
‘I thought as much,’ Justin was saying as he returned through the open glass doors, carrying an open black leather folder. ‘They do have a beauty salon in this place.’
‘A…a beauty salon?’ Rachel repeated, not sure what Justin was getting at.
‘Yes. Seeing you wearing that gorgeous green and with your hair down has shown me, Rachel Witherspoon, that you have been hiding your light under a bushel. I don’t know if anyone has ever told you before but black does nothing for you, and neither does the way you wear your hair to work. You also have a damned good figure, which your working wardrobe doesn’t show to advantage. With a different hairstyle, some make-up and the right clothes, Rachel, you could look more than good. You could look great.’
‘But…’
‘But what?’
‘But I thought you didn’t want me looking great, especially at work.’
‘What?’
‘Your mother told me all about your previous PA long before you ever did.’
He grimaced. ‘Oh, God, she didn’t, did she?’
‘Afraid so.’
He frowned over at her. ‘So you deliberately made yourself look like a plain Jane to get the job.’
Not really, an amazed Rachel was thinking. She’d just come au naturel. She was a plain Jane. But she wasn’t about to say so. She rather liked the thought that Justin believed she’d been down-playing a whole host of hidden attractions.
‘Well…’ she hedged, not sure what to say at this juncture.
‘Oh, Rachel, Rachel, you didn’t have to do that. I’d have given you the job, anyway, because I saw right from the start that you were nothing like that other girl. It wasn’t just the way she dressed, you know, but the way she acted. Like some oversexed vamp all the time. She drove me insane.’
‘So you wouldn’t mind if I did myself up a bit for work?’
‘Why should I mind?’
‘I was worried that if I suddenly came into the office with a new hairdo and a new wardrobe you might think I was…um…’
‘Tarting yourself up for me?’
‘Yes,’ she said sheepishly.
He laughed. ‘I would never think that of you. Silly Rachel.’
Rachel tried not to be offended. But she was, all the same. Yes, silly, silly Rachel.
‘Which brings me right back to my original suggestion,’ he went on. ‘Now, tomorrow I want you to go down to that beauty salon and get the works. Facial, massage, pedicure, manicure, waxing, hair, make-up. The lot. It says here they do all that.’
‘That seems excessive.’ Even for me, she thought ruefully.
‘No, it’s not. It’s necessary.’
‘Oh, thank you very much,’ came the waspish comment.
‘Now, now, this is no time for over-sensitivity, Rachel. The truth is you’ve let yourself get into bad habits with this plain-Jane nonsense. I can understand that you might not have bothered with your appearance much when you were at home all the time, but I’ll bet there was a time when you went to a lot of trouble with your hair and make-up and clothes.’
‘We-ll…’
‘Well?’ he probed forcefully.
‘I always suspected I didn’t become a finalist in the Secretary of the Year competition on my office skills alone,’ she said drily.
‘I don’t doubt it. I’ll bet you were a looker back then.’
‘I was…attractive.’
‘And you never wore black.’
‘Not often.’
‘How did you wear your hair?’
‘Down,’ she admitted. ‘With auburn highlights.’
‘No wonder people from your past didn’t recognise you today. But, come tomorrow night, Eric the Mongrel will recognise you all right.’
‘Eric the Mongrel?’ she repeated on a gasp.
‘Yeah. That’s what I’ve nicknamed him. Do you like it?’
‘Oh, dear. I love it.’
‘So you’ll do it? Come to the dinner with me?’
Rachel swallowed. It would take every bit of courage she owned to face Eric and that woman once more, even if she was dolled up to the nines. But, by God, she would!
‘Yes,’ she said, and Justin beamed.
‘Fantastic. Here. A toast is in order.’
He held his glass out towards her and she clicked it with hers.
‘To the comeuppance of Eric the Mongrel,’ Justin pronounced.
Rachel’s stomach flipped over. ‘Comeuppance?’
‘Oh, yes. Your ex deserves a few serves. And I’m just the man to deliver them!’
Justin paced up and down the living room, impatient for Rachel to make her appearance. She’d stayed hidden ever since her return from the beauty salon around five, letting herself in whilst he’d been in the bathroom, shaving. Now it was getting on for seven and he was dressed in his tux and ready to go down for the cocktail party that preceded the dinner at eight, an arrangement Rachel was well acquainted with. They’d discussed it last night.
So when seven came and went without her showing, Justin strode down the hallway and knocked firmly on her door.
‘Enough titivating in there, Rachel. It’s seven o’clock. Time you faced the music.’
‘Coming,’ she called back. But nervously, he thought.
The door opened and Justin’s blue eyes rounded.
‘Wow, Rachel. You don’t just look great. You look fabulous!’
Even that was an understatement. Where had his plain-Jane PA disappeared to? In her place stood a striking creature. No, a stunning creature. No, a striking, stunning, sexy creature.
Justin found himself standing there, just staring at her, trying to work out what she’d done to cause such a dramatic transformation.
It couldn’t just be her hair, though
