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It was his face that had done it. The disappointment in his shrug as he’d said that was a real shame. That she’d been excited about learning about the auctions for years. Excited about the furniture and the artworks and the thrill of the bidding wars.
Excited about working with me.
That’s what Colin said. He said his daughter had been excited about working with me.
Oh, the tear between good and bad. The good of wanting to be the nice, decent man I’d been to her when she was so small. The bad of knowing that man was gone, and that in his place was a monster who wanted the dirty young woman he’d seen exposed at sweet sixteen.
The good had attempted to win.
The good had seen Faith signed up for a few months of summer work here under Erica and the admin team.
The good had promised myself I’d stay well out of view and at arm’s length of the beautiful young girl who deserved the very best from this place.
I pulled the invoices back and got myself together. My resolve was firm again finally, my pen making quick work of the signoffs and turning my attention back to my upcoming schedule. I had plenty to be getting on with.
After drawing up the item specifications for next week’s auction and fielding last-minute admission requests to sift out the prized articles, it was fast approaching clock off time for the day. I shot a glance out of the window onto the car park in time to see Erica clacking her way out in stupid heels to her Audi convertible. She’d been making sharp exits lately on more occasions than not. Local town gossip down at the Farmer’s union speculated that she was hooking up with Glyn Morris, the apple farmer on the southern outskirts of town. Lots of money, big hands, not so many brain cells.
I couldn’t give a shit who she was hooking up with, I was more concerned with her bailing on the job before the other girls had signed off for the day. I’m never one for unfair work practices.
I waited until everyone else would definitely be finished for the day, Rachel Kelly giving a knock and a ‘we’re done, Mr Lindon’ with a wave before I gathered my own things together and gave my email a final check before logging out. I was done quite happily, pulling on my coat before picking up my car keys, congratulating myself for surviving Faith’s first day without jerking one off. I got my office lights and those in the corridor, and that’s when I saw the lights from the filing room still fully blazing around the doorway.
No. Surely not. Surely someone else would have checked before bailing.
But no. No, they hadn’t.
She started as I burst my way in there, holding her hand to her chest with those pretty little lips forming the perfect O as she saw it was me.
“It’s past leaving time,” I told her. “You leave at five thirty. It’s way gone six.”
Her nod was divine. Her smile so fucking cute.
“Yes, Mr Lindon, sir. I’m sorry. I was just trying to finish up before I left. I wanted to do so well on my first day. I’m so grateful for the opportunity to be here.”
I don’t know when I’d become Mr Lindon, sir, but I liked it.
I really fucking liked it.
I forced my eyes away from her sweet little mouth, and could have cursed aloud at the sight of the ridiculous pile of filing on the desk in front of her. Erica Tate really was a deliberately obstructive bitch on heat.
“Nobody would have ever expected you to finish up that pile before you left,” I told her, and beckoned her away from it.
“But Erica said –”
“Erica likes to make people feel incompetent,” I said, and held the door open. “Take no notice of her.”
“But she said she’s my manager… she said I’d be working for her the whole time… that I need to do whatever she –”
And that’s when my better judgement bailed. Properly fucking bailed.
“You won’t be working for Erica Tate,” I told sweet little Faith. “Not from tomorrow morning.”
Her eyebrows shot up so high on her forehead. “I won’t?”
Her voice. So gentle. So curious. So damn enticing.
“No,” I said, my voice so hard next to hers. I flicked off the filing room lights once she met me at the doorway, and her eyes were so wide in the dull light through the window blinds.
I cleared my throat before continuing, despising how my cock was straining in my suit trousers.
“You won’t be working for Erica Tate tomorrow morning,” I repeated, already hating myself for the stupidity. “You’ll be working for me.”Chapter ThreeFaith“So, how was it?”
Dad’s smile was bright as he forked up his vegetables. So keen to hear about my day that I felt even naughtier for feeling so churned up by Mr Lindon.
