Best of Fiona Harper. Fiona Harper
noticing as she did so that the colour of her painted toenails clashed with the rug. He finished the call without saying much but ‘mmm-hmm’ and ‘bye’, and replaced the phone carefully in its cradle before looking at her.
‘I have an idea to run past you. I hope you don’t mind?’
Ellie shook her head. Although she was a bit puzzled as to why Mark would want her help with what was obviously a business problem.
‘I’m due to fly to Antigua at the end of the week and my PA, vital to keeping me organised during what is likely to be a chaotic few days, has come down with the flu. I need someone to fill in for her.’
Ellie studied her toenails again. Tangerine really didn’t go with the aubergine shapes on the abstract rug.
‘Can’t someone from the office fill in?’
‘Difficult. The whole place is in turmoil with a newly signed band. Their first single is out this week and it’s all hands on deck. Anyone who isn’t already with a client is involved in that. I did have two people in mind, but one is on holiday and the other is pregnant and throwing up every ten minutes. I seem to have run out of employees to commandeer.’
Ellie smiled at that. Nobody to boss around? What a hardship.
When she looked up, a wolfish grin was on his lips.
‘Well, almost run out of employees…’ he added.
She didn’t like the look of that smile. She felt like Little Red Riding Hood, lost in the woods. Mark’s eyeballs didn’t move a millimetre as he stared straight at her. Ellie began to shake her head.
No way! Don’t you even think it!
He nodded in slow motion as her ringlets bounced from side to side. Without warning he sprang from his side of the desk and bounded towards her. He crouched in front of her and tugged her hands into his.
‘I have got one employee who could help me out.’
Her heartbeat accelerated. It was difficult to think whilst looking into those bottomless brown eyes.
‘Come on, Ellie. I know you can do this. Charlie told me about how you used to be a PA.’
Ellie tried to stammer no, but her mouth refused to cooperate. His eyes looked like a spaniel’s. She’d bet this was the puppy-dog thing Charlie had warned her about. It would be like stamping on a poor abandoned animal if she refused. And it would be to help Mark out of a tight spot. She couldn’t really do this, could she?
Mark pressed on while he had the advantage.
‘Look at the way you run the house. You’re quick to pick things up, and you’ve got bags of initiative. Even with all your challenges you seem to handle any unexpected thing I throw at you. I know this is a different ball game, but I have confidence in you. Please!’
Ellie grabbed the lifeline he had thrown at her. ‘The house!’ she blurted out.
Mark frowned. ‘What house?’
‘This one! We can’t leave it unattended. Who’s going to look after it?’ She let out a relieved sigh and relaxed into the padded leather chair, feeling oddly deflated at her own success.
‘Mrs Timms could manage for a few days. I’ve asked her already and she said her daughter would be able to help her out.’
Ellie sat, mouth open, trying to find another valid objection. She’d only just got used to Larkford. To go somewhere else, somewhere completely foreign—literally—and do work she wasn’t used to doing. Well, the idea was just plain terrifying. And she hadn’t even factored in how difficult it would be to spend days upon end in a tropical paradise working even more closely with Mark.
He was smiling at her, his voice low and rich. Ellie could feel herself slipping. ‘Mrs Timms used to work here before you started. Mind you, she wasn’t nearly as good—or pretty.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘And she smelled of peppermints and disinfectant—’
‘Mark!’
‘I know. Not important.’
He took hold of her hands again, eyes pleading. ‘It’s only for a few days. I just need someone to handle the red tape while I look after fragile egos and deal with hissy fits—and that’s just the tea lady I’m talking about.’
Ellie couldn’t help laughing. She suspected he could persuade her that black was white if he put his mind to it.
She folded her arms across her chest. ‘I will think about it.’
‘Basket case!’
Ellie mumbled to herself as she watched the planes taxiing back and forth in the evening haze, her nose pressed hard against the plate-glass wall of Heathrow’s first class lounge. The sunset was tarnished by the pollution of the busy airport.
What an idiot to think she could do this.
She turned, leaning back on the cold window to survey her fellow travellers sprawled over the comfy sofas on the far side of the lounge. Mark was chatting to Kat and the other members of her entourage. He looked completely at ease. In fact he’d been looking pretty darn pleased with himself since she’d told him she would fill in for his sick PA at breakfast this morning.
Ellie sighed and banged the back of her head lightly against the glass. She’d made a valiant attempt to say no to Mark’s offer, but she hadn’t quite been able to bring herself to turn him down.
Of course her decision had everything to do with a free trip to Antigua, and nothing at all to do with spending the next few days with Mark instead of rattling round Larkford Place on her own. At least that was what she’d thought this morning. Somehow the universe had done a one-eighty between then and now. The fantasy of jetting off to a palm tree filled island in a sarong and flip-flops had fallen flat once they had arrived at the airport. Well, slightly before that, Ellie admitted, looking down at her un-flip-flopped feet and sarong-less legs.
She hadn’t realised they were going to be travelling with Kat and her ‘people’. Immediately she’d gone into tortoise mode, feeling she had nothing much in common with the assorted bunch of strangers. Kat seemed nice—very young, and much shorter than she’d expected.
She studied the other members of the entourage. There was a tall, burly guy with a pair of shades who she presumed was a bodyguard or something. The girl with the funky white-blonde hair had to be a make-up artist or hairdresser. But she couldn’t even guess what the others did. The woman in the lurid boob tube could be Kat’s personal grape-peeler for all she knew.
The young guy with the pierced nose finished telling a funny story and the whole group erupted into laughter. Ellie’s eyes followed Mark’s every move as he grinned away, pleased with the reaction. The funky-haired woman put a pressureless hand on his arm as she wiped a tear from her eye.
Ellie frowned and turned back to face the anonymous jets parading round the runway. Her forehead met the cool glass with a delicate thud.
Basket case.
At thirty-five-thousand feet she was still wondering what she was doing with these people. Sure, she’d been on aeroplanes before, but it had been rubber food, cramped leg room and fighting about who had the armrest. Not this. Not champagne and seats you could fit a small family into. It all seemed so foreign—yet it shouldn’t. Nobody else seemed to be pining for garish seat covers and lager louts singing football songs.
She felt like an impostor. Any minute now people would start pointing and staring, and she’d be dragged back to Economy, where she belonged. This wasn’t her world. What a huge mistake to think she could slide in here with Mark and find it a perfect fit.
However, the outsize chair was definitely comfy, and she sank into it, her eyelids closing of their own accord.
The next thing she was aware of was something brushing her cheek, something soft and slightly