Читать книгу Oh-So-Sensible Secretary / Housekeeper's Happy-Ever-After: Oh-So-Sensible Secretary - Jessica Hart - Страница 9

‘YOU’RE not serious?’

‘I’m always serious, Summer,’ said Phin. His face was perfectly straight, but I’ve never seen anything less serious than the expression in the blue eyes right then.

I stared at him, aghast. ‘No way am I going to Africa!’

‘Why on earth not?’

‘I don’t like bugs.’

‘There’s more to the rainforest than bugs, Summer.’

‘The rainforest?’ My eyes started from my head. How much had I missed here? ‘Oh, no. No, no, no. The jungle? No way. Absolutely not.’

‘You’d like it.’

‘I wouldn’t,’ I said, still shaking my head firmly from side to side. I’d seen him leading those poor people through enough rainforests on Into the Wild to know just what it would be like. They spent their whole time struggling through rampant vegetation, or slithering down muddy slopes in stifling humidity, so that their hair was plastered to their heads and their shirts wringing with sweat.

There was almost always a shot of Phin taking off his shirt and rinsing it in the water. Anne’s favourite bit, in fact. Whenever they reached a river she’d sit up straighter and call out, ‘Shirt alert!’ and sigh gustily at the glimpse of Phin’s lean, muscled body.

I didn’t sigh, of course, but I did look, and even I had to admit—although not to Anne, of course—that it was a body worth sighing over if you were into that kind of thing.

But I certainly wasn’t prepared to trek through the rainforest myself to see it at first hand.

‘It sounds awful,’ I told Phin. ‘Hot and sweaty and crawling with insects…ugh.’

He leant forward, fixing me with that unnerving blue gaze. ‘You say hot and sweaty, Summer,’ he said, rocking his hand in an either/or gesture. ‘I say heat and passion and excitement.’

Heat. Passion. Excitement. They were so not me. But something about the words in Phin’s mouth made me shift uneasily on the sofa. ‘And what on earth makes you think I would like that?’ I asked, with what I hoped was a quelling look.

‘Your mouth.’

It was a bit like missing a step. I had the same lurch of the heart, punching the air from my lungs, the same hollowness in the stomach. My eyes were riveted to Phin’s, and all at once their blueness was so intense that I felt quite dizzy with the effort of not tumbling into it.

‘It just doesn’t go with the rest of you,’ he went on conversationally, while I was still opening and closing the mouth in question. ‘You’re all cool and crisp and buttoned up in your suit. But that mouth…’ He put his head on one side and studied it. ‘It makes me think there’s more to you than that. It makes me think that you might have a secretly sensual side…Am I right?’

‘Certainly not,’ I blustered, unable to think of a suitably crushing reply. ‘I can assure you that there isn’t a single bit of me that wants to go to the rainforest.’

Phin clicked his tongue and shook his head sadly. ‘Summer, Summer…I never thought you’d be a coward. Isn’t it time you stepped out of your comfort zone and explored a different side of yourself?’

‘I’m not into exploration,’ I said coldly. ‘That’s the thing about comfort zones. They’re comfortable. I’ve got no intention of making myself uncomfortable if I don’t have to.’

‘But I’m afraid you do have to,’ said Phin. ‘You’re on my team, and my team is going to Cameroon, whether you want to or not. So you’d better get used to the idea.’

I looked mutinously back at him. He was smiling, but there was an inflexibility to his jaw, a certain flintiness at the back of the blue eyes, that gave me pause and, like the coward Phin called me, I opted out of an argument just then.

I was sent off to liaise with Human Resources and find candidates for the first staff development trip. Phin said that he would organise everything at the Cameroonian end, but it would be my job to sort out flights, insurance, and all the other practicalities involved in taking a group of people overseas.

I didn’t mind doing that as long as I didn’t have to go myself. Still, he could hardly force me onto the plane, could he? I would be able to get out of it somehow, I reassured myself, and in the meantime I was much more excited about organising the Glitz interview. This was the chance I had dreamed about. At last I had a real reason to be in touch with Jonathan again.

Putting Africa out of my mind, I sat down to compose an e-mail to him. My heart was beating wildly at the mere thought of seeing him again, and I didn’t trust my voice on the phone.

All I had to do was suggest that we meet the next day to discuss the Glitz feature, but you wouldn’t believe how long it took me to produce a couple of lines that struck just the right balance between friendliness and cool professionalism.

I knew Jonathan would want to get involved. Glitz was stacked at every supermarket checkout in the land, and a positive piece about Phin taking up a new role at Gibson & Grieve would be fantastic publicity for us. Jonathan wouldn’t let a PR opportunity like this go past without making sure Phin’s office—i.e. me—was onboard.

Sure enough, he came back straight away.

Good idea. 12.30 tomorrow my office? J

Not a long message, but I read it as carefully as the floweriest of love letters, desperate to decipher the subtext.

Good idea…That was encouraging, wasn’t it? I mean, he could have just said OK, couldn’t he? Or fine. So I chose to see some warmth there. Also, he’d signed it with an initial. That was an intimate kind of thing to do. Not as good as if he’d added a kiss, of course, but still better than a more formal Jonathan.

But the bit that really got my heart thumping with anticipation was the time. Twelve-thirty. Was it just the only time he could fit me in, or had he chosen it deliberately so that he could suggest lunch?

Naturally I spent the entire afternoon composing a suitable reply. The resulting masterpiece ran as follows: 12.30 tomorrow fine for me. See you then. S. And, yes, my finger did hover over the x key for a while before I decided on discretion. I didn’t want to appear too pushy. Jonathan would hate that.

I discarded the idea of suggesting lunch myself for the same reason. But just in case Jonathan was thinking that we could discuss a PR strategy for Phin over an intimate lunch somewhere, I was determined to be prepared. Normally I’m very confident about putting outfits together, but I spent hours that night, dithering in front of my wardrobe, unable to decide what to wear the next day.

‘What do you think?’ I asked Anne.

I had dragged her away from yet another repeat of Into the Wild—wasn’t there anything else on television?—so she wasn’t best pleased. She sprawled grouchily on the bed.

‘What I think is that you’re wasting your time,’ she said frankly. ‘Face it, Summer, Jonathan’s just not that into you. He’s already made that crystal-clear.’

‘He might change his mind,’ I said, and even I could hear the edge of desperation in my voice.

‘He won’t,’ said Anne, who had never liked Jonathan. ‘Why can’t you see it?’ She sighed at my stubborn expression. ‘For someone so clearthinking, you’re incredibly obtuse when it comes to Jonathan,’ she told me. ‘It’s not like he ever made any effort for you, even when you were seeing each other. Why was he so keen to keep your affair a secret? It wasn’t like either of you were involved with anyone else.’

‘Jonathan didn’t think it was appropriate to have a relationship in the office,’ I said primly.

‘You weren’t having a relationship,’ said Anne, exasperated. ‘That was the whole point. You weren’t even having much of an affair. You were just sleeping together when it suited Jonathan. If he’d been really keen on you he wouldn’t have cared who knew. If he’d loved you he would have wanted to show you off, not hide you away as if he was ashamed of you.’

‘Jonathan’s not the kind of person who shows off,’ I said, aware that I sounded defensive. ‘I like that about him. He’s sensible.’

‘I think you’re mad!’ she said, throwing up her hands. ‘I can’t believe you spend every day with a hot guy like Phin Gibson and you’re still obsessing about Jonathan Pugh!’

‘Phin’s not that hot,’ I said, dismissing Anne’s objections as I always did. ‘And anyway, he’s my boss. And we all know his idea of commitment is making it through to dessert without feeling trapped. I’m certainly not going to waste my time falling for him. That really would be mad! Now, concentrate, Anne. This is important. The twinset or the jacket?’

I held them on hangers in each hand. The cropped jacket was one of my favourites, a deep red with three-quarter-length sleeves, a shawl collar and a nipped-in waist. ‘Too smart?’ I asked dubiously. ‘I don’t want to look as if I’m trying too hard. But maybe the cardigan is a bit casual for the office?’

I’d bought the twinset with my Christmas bonus. A mixture of angora and cashmere, it was so beautifully soft I hadn’t been able to resist it. I liked to take it out and stroke it, as if it were a kitten. To be honest, I wasn’t sure that the colour—a dusty pink—was quite me, and I never felt entirely comfortable with the prettiness of it all, so I’d never worn it to the office. It was very different from my usual smartly tailored look, but perhaps different was what I needed.

Anne agreed. ‘The twinset,’ she said without hesitation. ‘It’s a much softer look for you, and if you leave your hair loose as well it’ll practically scream touch me, touch me. Even Jonathan won’t be able to miss the point.’

The hair was a step too far for me. If I turned up at work with my hair falling to my shoulders everyone would get the point. I might as well hang out a sign saying ‘On the Pull’. So I tied my hair back as usual, but made up with extra care and painted my nails a pretty pink: Bubblegum—much nicer than it sounds. I wore the twinset, with a short grey skirt and heels just a little higher than usual.

Phin whistled when he came in—late, as usual—and saw me. ‘You look very fetching, Summer,’ he said. ‘What’s the occasion?’

‘No occasion,’ I said. ‘I just felt like a change of image.’

‘It’s certainly that,’ he said. ‘You look very…touchable. How many people have stroked you to see if that cardigan is as soft as it looks?’

‘A lot,’ I said with a sigh. I’d lost count of the women who’d stroked my arm and ooh-ed and aah-ed over its softness. I couldn’t blame them, really. Wearing it was like being cuddled by a kitten. ‘It’s a bit disconcerting to have perfect strangers running their hands down your arm.’

‘But you can understand why they do,’ said Phin. ‘In fact, I’m sorry, but I’m just going to have to do it myself. I don’t count as a perfect stranger, do I?’ Without waiting for my reply, he smoothed his own hand down from my shoulder to my elbow, and I felt it through the fine wool like a brand. ‘Incredibly soft,’ he said, ‘and very unexpected.’

Funny—I’d never felt anyone else’s stroke quite like that. My skin was tingling where his fingers had touched me. I swallowed.

‘I think I’ll go back to a suit tomorrow.’

‘That would be a shame,’ said Phin. ‘I like this new look a lot.’

Now all I needed was for Jonathan to like it, too. If the cardigan had the same effect on him, it would be worth feeling self-conscious now.

For the first time I realised that Phin didn’t look quite his normal self either that morning. There was a distinctly frazzled air about him, and his shirt was even more crumpled than usual. Probably partying all night again with Jewel, I thought unsympathetically.

I was sure of it when he suggested having coffee immediately. ‘In keeping with today’s theme, I’ve bought Danish pastries for a change,’ he said. ‘I’m badly in need of some sugar!’

‘Hangover?’ I asked sweetly.

‘Just a very fraught morning,’ said Phin with a humorous look. ‘I never thought I’d be glad to say I had to go to the office!’

He didn’t say any more, and I didn’t ask. I was too busy checking the clock every couple of minutes and willing the hands to move faster.

I decided that if Jonathan didn’t suggest lunch, I would. I would make it very casual. Do you want to grab a sandwich while we’re talking? Something like that.

I mouthed the words as my fingers rattled over the keyboard. The trouble was that I didn’t do casual very well. Look how astounded everyone was when I appeared in a cardigan.

I knew the words would come out sounding stiff and awkward if I didn’t get it right, but how was I supposed to practise when Phin was in and out of my office every five minutes, asking how to send a fax from his computer, wanting to borrow my stapler, giving me the dates for the Cameroon trip—about which I was still trying to keep a very low profile.

‘You know, you could just buzz me and I’d come in to you,’ I said, exasperated, in the end.

‘I’d rather come out,’ said Phin, picking up a couple of spare ink cartridges from my desk and attempting to juggle them. ‘I feel trapped if I have to sit down for too long.’

I detoured back from the photocopier to snatch the cartridges out of the air. I put them in a desk drawer and shut it firmly as I sat down.

‘Why don’t you go for a walk?’ I suggested through clenched teeth.

‘It’s funny you should say that. My producer just e-mailed me to say that we’re going back to finish filming in Peru next week, so I’ll be doing the last part of the trek again. I’ll be away about twelve days.’ Now he had my stapler in his hand, and was holding it out to me like a microphone. ‘Do you think you’ll miss me?’

‘Frankly, no,’ I said, taking the stapler from him and setting it back on the desk with a click. I glanced at the clock. Just past midday! I didn’t have long. ‘Are you going out for lunch?’ I asked hopefully.

‘I haven’t got any plans,’ said Phin. ‘I might just—’

That was when my mother rang. As if I didn’t have enough to cope with that morning!

‘I just had to tell you,’ she said excitedly. ‘A new galactic portal is opening today!’

I love my mother, but sometimes I do wonder how we can possibly be related. I’d suspect a mixup in the hospital if I hadn’t been born into a commune, with who knows how many people dancing and chanting and shaking bells around my mother. It must have been the most godawful racket, and if had been me I would have told them all to go away and leave me to give birth in peace. But of course Mum—or Starlight, as she prefers to be called nowadays—was in her element. The wackier the situation, the more she loves it.

I pinched the bridge of my nose between thumb and forefinger. I knew better than to ask what a galactic portal was.

‘That’s great, Mum,’ I said. ‘Look, I can’t really talk now—’

But she was already telling me about some ceremony she had taken part in the night before, that apparently involved much channelling of angels and merging of heart chakras.

‘Such a beautiful spiritual experience!’ she sighed. ‘So empowering! The energy vibrations now are quite extraordinary. Can’t you feel them?’

I resisted the urge to bang my head against my desk.

‘Er, no—no, I can’t just this moment,’ I said, aware that Phin was eavesdropping. I couldn’t imagine him caring about the fact that this was obviously a personal phone call, but I hoped he couldn’t hear anyway. My mother was deadly serious but, let’s face it, she could sound nuts.

‘That’s because you’re not open to the energy, darling,’ my mother told me reproachfully. ‘Have you been entering the crystal the way I showed you? You must let the love flow through your chakras.’

‘Yes, yes, I will,’ I said, one eye on the clock. After dragging all morning, it was suddenly whizzing round. If I wasn’t careful, I’d be late for Jonathan. ‘The thing is, Mum, I’m actually quite busy right now. Can I call you later?’

I’d finally managed to give her a mobile phone, which I paid for by direct debit. I knew she would never keep it topped up herself. My mother preferred spiritual forms of communication to the humdrum practicalities of paying phone bills or keeping track of credit.

‘That would be lovely, darling, but I’ll be seeing you soon,’ she said. ‘I’m coming to London, so we can talk properly then.’

Another time I would have been alarmed at her casual mention of a London visit, but I was desperate to get her off the phone before my meeting with Jonathan.

‘That’s great,’ I said instead. ‘Bye, then, Mum.’

I caught Phin’s eye as I put the phone down. ‘That was my mother,’ I said unnecessarily.

‘Is everything OK?’

‘Oh, yes, fine,’ I said airily. ‘A new galactic portal is opening. You know how it is.’

‘Blimey.’ Phin sounded impressed. ‘Is that good or bad?’

‘I’ve no idea. Whatever it is, it seems to be keeping my mother busy.’ I glanced at the clock again. Twelve-fourteen. I should think about getting ready.

I gathered my papers into a file and stood up. Only sixteen minutes and I’d be alone with Jonathan for the first time in weeks. I couldn’t wait.

Edging round the desk, I opened my mouth to tell Phin that I was going to a meeting, but before I could make my escape I saw consternation on his face as he looked over my shoulder. I turned to see Jewel Stevens framed in the doorway.

To say that she came in wouldn’t do her justice. You could tell that she was an actress. I felt that there should have been a fanfare—or possibly the theme tune from Jaws—as she waited until all eyes were on her before making her entrance.

‘Hi, baby,’ she cooed, her sultry brown eyes on Phin. I was fairly sure that she hadn’t registered my existence.

‘Jewel!’ The appalled expression I had glimpsed had vanished, and he was once more Mr Charm. ‘What are you doing here?’

She pouted at him, sweeping a glance up from under impossibly long lashes. ‘I just wanted to make sure you weren’t too cross with me after this morning.’

‘No, no,’ said Phin easily. ‘I never liked that dinner service anyway.’

Jewel laughed, delighted at her own power, and then her voice dropped seductively. ‘I came to make it up to you. To see if you missed me after last night.’

You had to hand it to her. Completely ignoring my presence, she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth. And I don’t mean a casual peck. I mean a full-on passionate kiss with tongues—well, I assume with tongues. It certainly looked that kind of kiss.

Anyway, by the time she had finished she was plastered all over him and twirling her tongue in his ear. Yuck. I can’t bear anyone touching my ears—I’m funny like that—and it made me queasy just looking at her. Just as well I hadn’t had my lunch yet.

I averted my gaze. No wonder Phin was looking tired this morning!

‘What say we go back to my place?’ Jewel was saying huskily. ‘We can spend the afternoon together. Just wait until you see what I’ve got for you, tiger,’ she whispered suggestively in his ear, and then—and I swear I’m not making this up—she growled.

Oh, please. I rolled my eyes mentally, only to catch Phin’s gaze over her shoulder. He grimaced at me and mouthed an unmistakable Help!

I was half tempted to leave him to it, but there was such naked appeal in his eyes that I relented. ‘You haven’t forgotten your twelve-thirty meeting, have you?’ I asked clearly.

‘God, yes, I have!’ Phin sent me a grateful look as he disentangled himself from her—which took some doing, I can tell you. Managing to free a hand, he slapped his head. ‘I’m sorry, Jewel. I can’t.’

Jewel’s beautiful face darkened. ‘Do you have to go? Meetings aren’t important. What’s it about?’

Another agonised look at me. ‘You need to discuss PR strategy,’ I supplied obediently.

‘Yes, that’s right. PR. So I’m afraid it is important.’ Phin spread his hands disarmingly.

‘Then I’ll wait for you in your office.’ She was twining herself around him again. Honestly, the woman was like an octopus. Phin would just manage to prise one of her hands away and the other would already be sliding round him.

‘I think you’d get very bored, Jewel,’ he said. ‘It’s likely to be a long meeting. We’re going out to lunch. In fact, we’d better go—hadn’t we, Summer?’

I looked at the clock. ‘Definitely,’ I said, picking up the file. I didn’t care what he did with Jewel, but I was meeting Jonathan at twelve-thirty if it killed me.

Jewel’s beautiful sullen mouth was turned down. ‘When will you be finished?’

‘I’m not entirely sure,’ said Phin, steering her towards the door. ‘I’ll give you a ring, OK?’

Still pouting, Jewel insisted on another kiss before she would let him go. ‘See you later then, tiger.’ She smirked, and sashayed off towards the lifts.

There was silence in the office. I looked at Phin. ‘Tiger?’

He had the grace to squirm. ‘Believe me, Jewel’s the tiger. I’m the baby antelope here.’

‘I’m sure you fought madly.’

‘If I’d known what I was getting into I would have done,’ he said frankly. ‘I mean, she’s gorgeous, and I’ve got to admit I was flattered when she made a beeline for me, but she gives a whole new meaning to high-maintenance. Talk about a prima donna! I must have withdrawn my attention for about ten seconds this morning, while I made myself some toast, and my eardrums are still ringing! She was throwing plates at the walls—it was like Greek night down at the local kebab shop. I’m buying plastic ones next time. I never thought I’d say it, but it was a real relief to come into the office and find you as cool and calm as ever.’

I certainly hadn’t been feeling cool and calm, I thought, but could only be glad my fluttery nerves hadn’t shown.

‘Anyway, I owe you one,’ he said. ‘If you hadn’t rescued me I’d have been dragged back to her lair and spat out later, an empty husk of a man.’

‘Call it quits for the doughnuts,’ I said. I looked at my watch and my heart gave a lurch. Twelve twenty-five. ‘I’d better go.’

Phin peered round the doorway to check if Jewel was still waiting for the lift. Apparently she was, because he withdrew his head hastily. ‘I might as well come, too,’ he said.

I looked at him in dismay. I didn’t want him muscling in on my tête-à-tête with Jonathan! ‘I don’t think you’ll find it very interesting,’ I tried, but Phin was already hustling me down the corridor away from the lifts.

‘We’ll take the stairs,’ he muttered. ‘Isn’t your meeting about PR, anyway?’ he went on once safely out of Jewel’s sight. ‘I should know what’s going on.’

‘I’ll fill you in on the details afterwards,’ I tried.

‘No, I’d better come. I wouldn’t put it past Jewel to come back and surprise me,’ said Phin, with an exaggerated grimace of fear. ‘And where would I be without you to rescue me?’

If I resisted any more, Phin would start wondering why I was so keen to be on my own with Jonathan, and that was the last thing I wanted. I could hardly refuse to take my own boss to a meeting, after all, but I was rigid with disappointment as we made our way up to Jonathan’s office on the floor above.

Not that Phin seemed to notice. He was in high good humour, having escaped Jewel’s clutches, and he breezed into Jonathan’s office and completely took over the meeting. I had no need to bring out my line about grabbing a sandwich.

‘Let’s talk over lunch,’ said Phin, and bore us off to a wine bar tucked away in a side street between Covent Garden and the Strand.

So much for my date with Jonathan. I walked glumly beside Phin, listening to him setting out to charm Jonathan, who was obviously delighted at Phin’s unexpected appearance. I was feeling pretty miserable, if you want the truth. I couldn’t fool myself that there had been even a flash of disappointment from Jonathan because he wouldn’t be meeting me alone.

Still, I found myself grabbing onto pathetic crumbs of comfort—like the way he arranged for me to sit next to him at the table. Later, of course, I realised it was so that he could sit face to face with Phin, on the other side, but at the time it was all I had to hang on to.

Not that it did me much good. I wanted to concentrate on Jonathan, but somehow I couldn’t with Phin sitting across the table exuding such vitality that even after what had obviously been a heavy night with Jewel everyone else seemed to fade in comparison to him. Whenever I tried to slide a glance at Jonathan my eyes would snag instead on Phin’s smile, or Phin’s solid forearms, or his hands that fiddled maddeningly with the cutlery as he talked and gesticulated.

The two men couldn’t have been more of a contrast. Jonathan was in a beautifully cut grey suit, which he wore with a blue shirt and dotted silk tie. Anne would have looked at him and said conventional and boring, but to me he was mature and professional. Unlike Phin, whose hair could have done with a cut and who was wearing a casual shirt and chinos in neutral colours and yet still managed to look six times as colourful as anyone else in the room.

‘Glitz are planning a major spread,’ Jonathan was explaining to Phin. ‘It’s a great opportunity for us to promote a more accessible image. Market research shows that Gibson & Grieve are still seen as elitist, so for the new stores we need to present ourselves as ordinary and family-friendly. Your image as a celebrity will be very valuable to us, but up to now you’ve been associated with the wild. What we want is to associate you with the home, and we’d like Glitz to interview you at your house, so that their readers get an idea of you in a domestic setting.’

Jonathan paused delicately. ‘If you have a girlfriend, it would be very good to get her involved as well—perhaps even give the impression that you’re thinking of settling down. I did hear that you’re going out with Jewel Stevens…?’ He trailed off, more than a touch of envy in his tone.

Phin’s eyes met mine. ‘I’m not involving Jewel,’ he said with a grin. ‘It might give her all the wrong ideas—and besides, I wouldn’t have any crockery left by the time Glitz turned up. I’m reduced to eating off paper plates as it is!’

‘She sounds very feisty,’ said Jonathan. I don’t know if he was aiming for a man-about-town air or humour, but either way it didn’t quite work.

I glanced at Phin and away again.

‘Feisty is one way of putting it,’ he said. ‘Sorry, Jonathan, but I’m going to have to do this as single guy.’

Jonathan looked disappointed. I got the feeling that he would have liked to have talked more about Jewel. ‘Well, perhaps you could give the impression that you’re thinking of settling down without mentioning any names,’ he suggested.

‘I’ll do my best.’

‘What about your house? Do we need to redecorate for you?’

‘Redecorate? I thought the article was supposed to be showing me as I am at home?’

‘No, it’s to show you at the kind of home we want readers to associate with Gibson & Grieve,’ Jonathan corrected him. He turned to me. ‘Summer, you’d better check it out. You’ll know what needs to be done.’

‘She’ll just tidy me up,’ Phin protested.

‘Summer’s very competent,’ said Jonathan.

Competent. You know, when you dream of what the man of your dreams will say about you, you think about words like beautiful, amazing, sexy, passionate, incredible. You never long for him to tell you’re competent, do you?

‘No redecorating,’ said Phin firmly. ‘If you make it all stylish it’ll look and seem false, and that would do our image more harm than good. Summer can come and keep me on the straight and narrow in the interview, but I’m not changing the house. If you want readers to see what my home is like, we can show them. It’s not as if I live in squalor.’

My only hope was that Phin might leave us after lunch, but, no, he insisted on walking back with us. So I never had one moment alone with Jonathan. I had to say goodbye to him in the lift as Phin and I got out on the floor below.

And that was my big date that I’d looked forward to so much. A complete waste of make-up. Jonathan hadn’t even commented on my cardigan.

Phin looked nervously around the office when we got back. ‘She’s gone—phew!’ He wiped his brow in mock relief. ‘Thanks again for earlier, Summer. It’s good to know you can lie when you need to! If Jewel comes in again, I’m not here, OK?’

I was too cross about Jonathan to be tactful. I was even beginning to feel some sympathy for Jewel. At least she had the gumption to go for what she wanted. Jonathan evidently found her feistiness appealing. Perhaps I should have tried smashing a few plates.

‘If you don’t want to see her again, you should tell her yourself…tiger,’ I said sharply, and Phin winced.

‘I’ll try,’ he said. ‘But Jewel isn’t someone who listens to what she doesn’t want to hear. Still, I’m going away in a few days,’ he remembered cheerfully. ‘She’ll soon lose interest if I’m not around.’