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Steel straightened. He didn’t want to think of her as a mother, which in itself indicated a mental step backwards away from this dark-haired woman with the huge eyes and delicious body was called for. He smiled thinly. ‘Go ahead.’ He gestured at the telephone on a glass table next to an enormous bowl of hothouse blooms. ‘I need to call the hospital again anyway.’
‘I’ve got my mobile …’
She was fumbling in one of the huge handbags women seem to favour these days and he was suddenly intensely irritated without knowing why. ‘No need. I’ll use the other line in my study,’ he said coolly, walking to the door as he spoke and shutting it firmly behind him once he was in the hall. He stood there for a moment, collecting his thoughts.
What was the matter with him, for crying out loud? He breathed deeply, his nostrils flaring. So she was phoning her kids. So what? He knew she wasn’t first and foremost a career-motivated Barbara with her own flat and sports car and intrinsically selfish life that meant she could do what she wanted, when she wanted and how she wanted. And with whom. He hadn’t even known she existed until a day or two ago. She meant nothing to him. Nothing beyond a potential employee, that was. If he should choose to give her the job.
He walked into his study and reached for the telephone on the massive curving desk in front of the window. It was only then he acknowledged there was no if about it. She’d had the job from the minute he’d laid eyes on her.
He shook his head at himself. Steady, boy, steady, he cautioned silently. Big step backwards here. He didn’t do impulsive. Every decision he made was logical and thought out, even ruthless at times. It was how he had created a thriving little empire in just under twenty years. Sentiment and emotion were all very well but they had no place in business.
He was frowning as he rang Jeff’s mobile, but after talking to his brother-in-law for a couple of minutes and finding out Annie was no worse his expression cleared.
Toni George would be just another employee. Anything else was not acceptable. Decision made, he stood up, flexed his broad shoulders and left the room.
CHAPTER TWO
TONI’S MOTHER ANSWERED the telephone. Toni could hear shrieks of laughter and high squeals in the background as she said, ‘Mother? It’s me. I’m not going to be back for a while yet—the interview still hasn’t finished. I was ringing to say goodnight to the girls. Are they ready for bed?’ Their bedtime was seven-thirty but if she wasn’t around to enforce it, it could be any time, which invariably meant two tetchy little girls the next day. Not good for them or anyone around them!
‘Oh, yes, love. They’ve had their bath and they’re in their pyjamas,’ Vivienne Otley said fondly.
Hating to be critical, but knowing how long it took the twins to calm down once they got excited, Toni said carefully, ‘I thought we’d agreed seven was the deadline for reading stories in bed so they can wind down?’
‘Well, you know what your father’s like with them. He’s the big bad wolf and they’re the little pigs. I’m a little pig too.’
Toni stifled a sigh. She adored her parents and would be eternally grateful for the way they’d immediately opened up their home and hearts to her and the twins when the full horror of the mountain of debts came to light, but she was fighting a losing battle against the girls being spoilt rotten.
Having tried unsuccessfully for a child for years, her parents had long since resigned themselves to being childless when she’d made her appearance on her mother’s forty-second birthday thirty years ago. Her mother’s favourite story was that for the first six months of pregnancy Toni had been dismissed as the onset of the menopause. It had only been when she gave a hefty kick one day that her mother had realised the flutters and discomfort she’d put down to her age and flatulence were, in fact, a baby. A nine-pound baby as it turned out.
Toni had always known she was her parents’ sun, moon and stars, but in spite of their joy in their beloved daughter they had never spoiled her. Just the contrary in fact. But with the twins … Suppressing another sigh, she said meaningfully, ‘Put them on the line, would you, and I’ll make it clear they’re straight to bed. They’ve got that nursery trip tomorrow to the safari park and they’re going to be exhausted if they’re up late.’
Amelia came on the phone first, as Toni had expected. The older twin by minutes, Amelia led and Daisy followed. ‘'Lo, Mummy,’ Amelia said brightly. ‘Grandad’s pretending to be the wolf and he’s put those big teeth in we got in a cracker at Christmas. He’s nearly swallowed them once.’ Lowering her voice, she whispered, ‘We’re acting scared but we aren’t really.’
Toni had to smile. ‘Hallo, honeybee,’ she said softly. ‘I’m not going to be able to get home to put you to bed so I’m sending a big kiss and hug down the phone, OK? And I want you to promise you’ll go straight to bed now and Grandma will read you one story. You’ve got your trip tomorrow, haven’t you? And you don’t want to miss anything because you’re too tired.’
It worked. ‘All right, Mummy,’ Amelia said at once, handing the phone to her sister before Toni could say goodbye.
‘'Lo, Mummy,’ Daisy lisped, her voice softer and more babyish than Amelia’s. ‘When are you coming home?’
‘Soon, darling, but Grandma’s going to read your story tonight and tuck you in because Mummy’s trying to get that job I told you and Amelia about. Remember? Be a good girl for Grandma, won’t you? Go straight to sleep, promise me?’
‘Yesp.’ A tiny pause. ‘I lub you, Mummy.’
‘I love you, sweetpea.’ Swallowing the lump in her throat, she added, ‘I’ll come and kiss you when I get home, but I want you to go straight to sleep after your story.’
Her mother came on the line. ‘She’s nodding to whatever you just said, bless her. And I’m sorry, love. I forgot about that nursery trip. It’s gone clean out of my mind.’
Toni felt instantly guilty. Why should her parents have to remember about things like nursery trips at their age? They were in their early seventies; they should be enjoying the grandchildren visiting every so often for a few hours, not being with them full time. Richard hadn’t paid the rent on the flat they’d been living in for a while before he’d died, but even if they’d been up to date there was no way they could have continued to live there on what she could earn. A basic bedsit would be all she could afford and it would mean she wouldn’t be able to save anything towards paying off the mountain of debt Richard had left. Her parents continued to insist they loved having her and the grandchildren and wouldn’t hear of her moving out, but their small two-bedroomed terrace was bursting at the seams with
the children’s paraphernalia. She slept on a sofa bed in the sitting room at night and she knew her parents’ calm, orderly life had been turned upside down. But what was the alternative?
Wearily she brushed a strand of dark brown hair laced with copper behind her ear. She was tired. Mentally and emotionally worn out, and she couldn’t think beyond this present moment or she’d lose any faint hope she had of landing this job. James had assured her Steel would pay well, exceptionally well if he thought she was the right person for the job. Steel’s employees rarely left the firm, he’d said drily, in spite of his reputation of being an exacting employer. An excellent salary and a generous package of benefits bought loyalty.
When Steel returned to the room she was sitting primly on the sofa, her manner one of cool composure. This lasted all of one moment due to him saying smoothly, ‘Maggie assures me there is more than enough dinner for two, Mrs George, and, as we haven’t finished the interview yet and I’m hungry, it seems sensible to kill two birds with one stone. Unless you have any objection, of course?’
Plenty, but she couldn’t very well say so. For a second or two she sat there dry-mouthed, his impossibly light eyes seeming to pin her to the spot. It took some effort to pull herself together but her voice was gratifyingly steady when she said, ‘That’s very kind of you, Mr Landry. Thank you.’
‘Maggie will call us when the meal’s ready but in the meantime can I offer you a drink?’ He was walking across to the beautifully made glass cocktail cabinet in a corner or the room as he spoke. ‘I usually have a cocktail about this time of night if I’m not driving, but there’s red, white or rosé wine, along with various spirits and mixers, sherry, martini …’
