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He nods. “Of course. Your secret is safe with me…”
I ignore his obvious attempt to learn my name and turn my back on him, walking away with a deep sigh. At least I know what pub to avoid in the future. It was obvious the invitation was for much more than a drink, and the last thing I need in my life is a man complicating it.
CHAPTER5
ROBERT
Sylvia regards me as if I’ve grown two heads overnight as she stands in front of my desk for our early morning briefing.
“I’m sorry, sir, you want to schedule a walkabout?”
“Is that a problem, Sylvia?”
I fix her with my usual autocratic look, and she says quickly, “Of course not, sir. May I ask who you need to accompany you?”
“I can walk around my own store unaccompanied, Sylvia. Just let me know when I don’t have meetings so I can plan it.”
She colours up and says quickly. “You have two thirty to three thirty put aside for paperwork. Prior to that, there is the usual monthly meeting with the department managers and following it, Mr Saracen wants a word.”
I groan inwardly. Mr Saracen is a pompous bore and head of the third floor. He’s always attempting to bend my ear about mundane matters just to inflate his own self-importance among the staff. He likes to proclaim that he has the ear of the CEO, which gives him kudos among the staff when he sweeps past them. He’s the last man I want to spend time with today, so I say irritably, “Cancel it.”
Sylvia’s eyes are wide. “But…”
“Cancel it, Sylvia. Reschedule it for after closing time if he insists.”
I bite back a grin because it’s well known he is one of the first managers out of the door come closing time because he prefers to make the early train home. He lives one hour away, and the next train is the slow one, which takes one and a half hours to do a journey that the fast train achieves in thirty minutes. It’s little pieces of information like this that I use to my advantage to get what I want, and I doubt I’ll be seeing him when the doors close for the night.
Sylvia tries to disguise her eye roll but fails and when she receives my scowl in return she says hastily, “Of course, sir, consider it done.”
She exits the office in haste, and I smile to myself. Despite appearances, I have a fondness for Sylvia that she will never know about. She is a mother of three who dotes on her family but spends many hours past her official one’s trying to do her best job. She relies on it because her husband is out of work and her children are growing up fast. As the main breadwinner, she can’t afford to lose her position and so works diligently just to keep the wolf from the door. It’s just a shame she works with a particular brand of wolf and yet I allow her to get away with more than most.
I know what the staff think of me. Not a lot, I guess, but I’m not my father who was loved by everyone. Generous, convivial and the worst businessman because of it. My grandfather was more like me and under my father’s rule, Harvey’s suffered, and it was touch and go if we would survive at all. The profits were squandered on staff parties and bonuses and in his mission to be popular and create a fun working environment, he nearly caused the doors to close for good.
When he stepped down, it was at the request of my grandfather. Jefferson Harvey was appalled at how far the profits had sunk and as the chairman he had the power to hire and fire at will. He wasted no time in ‘retiring’ my father and installing me at the helm under instruction to pull the business up from the gutter back to the dizzying heights it enjoyed under his rule.
As it turned out, my father was more than happy to oblige and spends his pension travelling the world with my mother, who always enjoys spending the profits, anyway.
So, I brought a new era along with me and have earned my reputation as the cold unfeeling beast who looks down on his subjects with a scowl and the promise of unemployment if they displease me.
Now I’m alone, my thoughts turn to my passenger again for probably the thousandth time since she vacated my car. My scowling fairy. A woman who interested me more than any other because, like me, she doesn’t appear to suffer fools gladly.
The whole purpose of my walkabout is to stride into fairyland and antagonise her some more and it’s been a scenario that has gained in momentum ever since I decided it would shake her image from my head. I just need to burst the bubble she has created and see her for what she is. Another employee who will irritate me and send me back to the comfort of my office with normal business resumed.
Somehow, I get through the morning, hating the fact she occupies my mind for most of it. In fact, I have never met a woman who does before, which is why she intrigues me so much. Maybe it was the disinterest she showed towards me, or perhaps it was the way she reminded me of myself. We appeared to share things in common and I have never met a woman who challenged me as much as she did during that brief encounter.
I suppose it has been magnified in my mind and the reality will disappoint me when I see her again. Part of me sincerely hopes it will because the last thing I need to develop is an unhealthy fascination for a woman who is sure to be nothing but trouble, anyway.
* * *
As I walkthrough the store, I’m accustomed to the incredulous looks thrown my way. It never bothers me and for the most part, I ignore every tentative smile and every attempt to engage my attention. I only stare at the things that interest me the most. The tidiness of the displays, the general housekeeping of the store and the lines at the service points. If I see items out of place or low stock, I want to know why and I have earned my reputation as a beast and wouldn’t want it any other way. It’s important that standards are withheld and the store shines at every opportunity and I don’t hesitate to reward incompetence with a P45 and a bad reference.
My diligence has paid off because our reputation is soaring. Magazine interviews and press evenings have elevated our standing among the general public. A few paid visits from well-known celebrities have earned us gossip column inches and all of it was a contrived plan to make Harvey’s the ‘must go’ place to be seen in London.
I sweep through the store like an ill wind and glower at anyone who appears to be slacking. By the time I reach fairyland though my attention is no longer on the condition of my store, it’s searching for the one person who has unknowingly captured my attention.
A brief glimpse of tulle and sparkle flashes past me and I turn in that direction, following the fairy into the grotto that has been named the best one in London, ensuring our lines are long and anticipation high. The fairy stops short of the grotto and whispers in the ear of another fairy and my heart quickens when they swap places and as the fairy turns and smiles at the nearest child, my heart sinks.
It’s not her.
