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On entering the apartment he went straight into his bedroom and, after stripping off, had a long, cool shower in the en-suite bathroom. It helped. Wrapping a towel round his wet thighs, he padded through to the immaculate kitchen and fixed himself a strong coffee. He had a briefcase of work he’d brought home and he didn’t want to go to sleep; Jeff had promised to ring him if there was any change in Annie’s condition and he was too on edge to go to bed. Purely with concern for Annie, he added, as though someone had challenged otherwise. Anyway, he only needed three or four hours’ sleep a night. He’d always been that way.
With the single-mindedness that his business rivals termed ruthlessness, Steel put all thoughts of Toni George out of his mind and, after pulling on his bathrobe, opened the briefcase. Life—his life—was all about autonomy. Anything or anyone that threatened that hard-won and most precious commodity wasn’t to be tolerated.
End of story.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘WELL, HOW DO YOU think Mummy looks?’ Toni twirled round for the twins’ inspection. ‘Neat and efficient?’
‘What’s ‘ficient?‘ Daisy asked worriedly.
‘Someone who can do things well.’
Amelia’s big brown eyes had made a thorough examination of her mother’s tailored grey suit and crisp white blouse, and now she nodded along with her sister. ‘You look very ‘ficient,’ she declared positively.
‘An’ pretty,’ put in Daisy. ‘Very, very pretty.’
‘Thank you, my honeybees.’ Toni carefully knelt down and the twins hugged her, nearly dislodging the tight chignon at the nape of her neck, which had taken her ages to secure. Her thick hair didn’t take kindly to being confined. ‘Now Grandma is going to take you to nursery today as it’s Mummy’s first morning at her new job, but tomorrow and most other days I can take you. OK?’
They nodded again, their brown curls bobbing. Although identical at birth there were definite dissimilarities occurring the older the twins became. Amelia was taller than her sister and altogether more robust-looking, and Daisy’s brown hair was becoming a shade or two lighter than her sister’s. Facially, though, they were still peas in a pod.
Toni stood up, loving them so much her heart ached and hating to leave them, although the twins seemed unconcerned. They had been going to nursery for the last few months to prepare them for big school in September after their fourth birthday at the end of July, and both girls had settled in well. One good thing that had come out of their father’s lack of interest in them was that his passing had affected them less than it would have done if he’d been a hands-on type, Toni reflected, not for the first time. Indeed, they had barely mentioned him in the last month or two, but then perhaps that wasn’t so surprising. Sometimes a whole week had passed with Richard leaving the flat before the girls were awake and returning home when they were asleep. He had admitted once, when the girls were still babies, that he didn’t like children much, and when she had got upset had promised her that of course that didn’t mean his own and he would take more interest in the twins when they were out of the baby stage. But he hadn’t. Just the opposite, in fact.
‘You look very smart, dear.’ Vivienne bustled into the sitting room, her voice brisk and uplifting. She knew how her daughter was feeling. ‘And you shouldn’t have put away the bed. I can do that when you’re gone.’
‘It’s no trouble.’ Toni liked to restore the sitting room to order before her parents rose in the morning; the twins’ toys and books and other paraphernalia inevitably seemed to end up all over the house, although she told the girls to keep their things in their bedroom. The least she could do was to remove all evidence of the lodger in the front room! Leaning forward, she kissed her mother’s lined cheek, saying softly, ‘Thanks for being you, Mum. I don’t know what I’d have done without you and Dad in the last months.’
‘Go on with you.’ Vivienne never did like being thanked, but her voice was tender. Only she knew just how much her daughter had suffered before and after her son-in-law’s death, and what a change it had wrought in the trusting, confident young woman Toni had been before Richard had come along. It was awful that her son-in-law’s life had been cut short like that, but—and she’d never admit it to a living soul—she had felt an element of relief when she’d heard the news, and that was before they’d found out about his gambling. He would have been a millstone round her daughter’s neck all her life, Vivienne thought as she watched Toni say goodbye to the girls, because Toni would never have left him. Till death do us part was just that in her daughter’s book.
‘Wish me luck, Mum.’
Vivienne smiled at her daughter before giving her a hug. ‘You don’t need luck. Just be yourself and that will be enough. James said you were the best interior designer he’d ever had working for him, and this Landry fellow was obviously impressed else he’d never have given you the job.’
Toni repeated her mother’s words like a mantra all the way to Steel’s offices north of Edmonton. She’d received a letter and various correspondence including a contract of employment from Steel’s secretary the week before, so once in the impressive reception she gave her name and was directed to the lift, where she travelled to the top floor and knocked on the door marked ‘Joy Maclean, Secretary to Steel Landry'.
There was no answer, and when she tentatively opened the door and looked inside the office was empty. Steel’s secretary clearly hadn’t arrived yet.
She knew she was early. Toni glanced at her watch. It was only eight-twenty but she’d wanted to arrive before the rush. She didn’t admit to herself here that the ‘rush’ translated into h
er formidable employer.
The secretary’s office was large and comfortable, even luxurious, the far wall mostly glass, which gave a panoramic view over greater London, and Toni was wondering whether to venture in and sit and wait when a deep smoky voice some way down the thickly carpeted corridor almost made her jump out of her skin.
‘Good morning, Toni.’ Steel had opened what was obviously the outer door to his office and was leaning nonchalantly against it, hands thrust in the pockets of his perfectly creased trousers. He was wearing a deep blue shirt and his tie was hanging loose, his shirtsleeves rolled up to expose tanned, muscled forearms. He looked sensational, even better than she remembered. No man should have so much; it wasn’t fair.
Somehow she managed a smile although her facial muscles felt as stiff as a board. ‘Good morning.’
‘Joy’s rarely here before nine; I keep her working late most evenings so she arrives when she arrives,’ he said lazily.
Flexible working hours, of course. She was dry-mouthed and rooted to the spot and desperately tried to pull herself together. Say something intelligent, she told herself. Speak.
‘Come and have a coffee.’ He moved back into his office without waiting for a reply, leaving her with no choice but to walk down the corridor.
Steel’s office was massive. A giant desk was positioned so the light from the huge windows streamed over his shoulder, and there were a couple of easy sofas and chairs grouped round an enormous coffee table close to a unit holding a coffee maker, a water filter and what looked like a small fridge. A biscuit tin holding a vast selection of biscuits had its lid off, and he took one as he poured her a coffee.
‘Breakfast,’ he said wryly, indicating the tin. ‘There was a panic over the weekend and I’ve been here since five o’clock. Joy’s bringing some bacon butties with her when she comes in.’
‘Five o’clock?’ She’d have had to be up with the larks to get here before him then.
