All Work And No Play.... Julie Cohen

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      For Kathy Love, who helped me make up this story on a train from New York to Washington DC. I laughed so hard, I don’t think I breathed from Pennsylvania to Delaware.

      CHAPTER ONE

       I AM absolutely fine, I am very good at my job, and you are never going to see me cry again.

      It was Jane’s inner monologue, her mantra for the morning, so strong that she had to choose her words carefully to avoid speaking it out loud as she finished up her slide presentation and answered questions on behalf of her creative team.

      Particularly because the person who was asking the most questions was Gary Kaplan, the senior account manager, whom she had believed she was going to marry next June, and who had seen her crying five days before.

      ‘Fortunately for our time schedules,’ she continued, clicking off her slide show and shutting down her laptop, ‘the model we’ve selected for the Franco cologne campaign is available this week, so we’re starting production straight away. I’ll be seeing him and his agent for lunch after I have my design team briefing.’

      ‘Excellent.’ Allen Pearce, one of the advertising agency’s partners, smiled as he rose from his chair. ‘I have every confidence that my team will do the firm proud while Michael and I are in New York. Good work, Jane, Gary, and everyone.’

      She’d pulled it off. She thanked Allen Pearce, thanked her team, and packed up her laptop to go back to her office. Five minutes would be enough to take a few deep breaths, compose herself, enjoy her success.

      ‘Jane.’

      Jane stopped on her way out of the boardroom. It was Gary who’d called her back, so she made sure her expression was cheerful before she turned around.

      ‘Yes, Gary?’

      ‘Are you all right?’

      Stephen and Hasan were still gathering their things from the boardroom table, so she pretended that Gary’s question was a casual enquiry.

      ‘Fine, thanks, Gary. And you?’

      She hadn’t thought that her voice betrayed any of her emotions, but she did notice that Stephen and Hasan pulled together their papers and pens more quickly and headed for the door. Hasan caught her eye as he left and gave her half a smile, which, she thought, sickeningly, was probably sympathetic.

      Once the other members of the team were gone, she stepped all the way back into the room and closed the door. The boardroom was, like every room in Pearce Grey Advertising Agency, ultra-modern and minimalist, with white walls and grey streamlined furniture. Sometimes she found the blank space conducive to creativity, but right now she found it cold.

      Gary was still sitting in one of the sleek chairs. His creaseless grey suit fitted right into the room. She wondered if Gary was doing his own ironing, or if Kathleen lived up to his exacting standards in that department, too.

      ‘Gary, I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t ask me personal questions in front of our colleagues.’ She stayed standing.

      ‘It wasn’t a personal question. I just asked you how you were doing.’

      Jane used to admire Gary’s calm demeanour. Now it made her hands curl up into fists. She did it behind her back, though, because one entire wall of the boardroom was glass, looking out into the main office area of Pearce Grey.

      ‘In this context, it was a personal question,’ she said.

      ‘I asked the bloke in the newsagent the same thing this morning.’

      Yes, but you didn’t leave the bloke in the newsagent for another woman. ‘I’m fine, Gary, thank you. How are you?’

      ‘I’m concerned that you’re not well. You look tired.’

      ‘Isn’t it odd, Gary, that when we were together you never noticed when I was tired and not well?’

      He had the good sense to look uncomfortable at that question. ‘Well, we weren’t working so closely before your promotion.’

      Which also reminded her that he had seniority. How considerate of him.

      ‘We need you on top form,’ he continued. ‘The Giovanni Franco cologne campaign is vital to the agency—’

      ‘And Giovanni Franco himself is edgy and difficult, and has sacked their last three agencies, and wants everything done yesterday,’ she finished for him. ‘I know. I’m on top of it.’

      But then she thought about Hasan’s half-smile, and how he and Stephen had hustled it out of the boardroom. Maybe she wasn’t hiding her feelings as well as she’d thought.

      Gary rested his arms on the desk in front of him. He was handsome enough, with light brown hair and regular features and a body that saw a