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She explains where to get stationery, how to log in to their systems, and how to work the audio typing software. “The guys use speech-to-text software, too,” she explains, “but some of their stuff is very technical, and the speech-to-text doesn’t work well with that. It’s not easy for our secretaries to transcribe it, but you get better over time.”
“Anything else I should know about Sax—er—Mr. Chevalier?” I ask. The information I know—that he has a mole on his left shoulder that I’ve kissed, that he wears boxers with red hearts on, and that he likes enthusiastic sex—isn’t useful right now.
“Also known as Mr. Genius,” she says, and laughs. “All three brothers are hardworking and loyal, and expect the same from their staff. They’re in by seven a.m. and work twelve-to-fourteen-hour days. Saxon is sometimes even here at midnight when there’s a big project on. You have to get him out of his chair with a shoehorn. He’ll forget to eat and drink, so take him in regular coffees and make sure his fridge has plenty of bottled water. Remind him five minutes before he has a meeting, because he’ll have lost track of time. Try not to interrupt him with phone calls unless they sound urgent—take messages and wait until you have a few before you put them in front of him. And don’t worry if he’s a bit short with you sometimes. He’s been quite grumpy lately…” She stares at me. “Maybe I’m beginning to understand why.”
Does she mean because of me? Kip said Saxon had been like a bear with a sore head. Are they implying he’s been grumpy because I ran out of his hotel room?
“I’m Kip’s PA,” she continues, “as well as Head Secretary, so I’m just down the corridor. Call me or come and see me if you need anything.”
“Thank you so much,” I whisper, knowing I’ve fallen on my feet here.
“You’re welcome, love.” She hesitates, and for a moment I think she’s going to say something, maybe about Saxon being the father, but she picks up a few folders and heads out of the office.
At last, I’m on my own. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Jesus, what a morning. All this time I’ve been dreaming about Saxon, thinking I’ll never see him again, and I walk in the door and there he is.
I think there’s an angel watching over you and the baby, don’t you? Someone made you come here today.The memory of his words makes my throat tighten. The thought that my mother might be keeping her eye on me is almost too much to bear. I haven’t dared think much about her since I got pregnant.
I still have her silver shamrock in my hand. I can’t believe Saxon held onto it.It reminded me of you.My lips curve up a little as I open my bag and place the shamrock in an inside pocket and zip it up.
It’s going to be a while before I can process what’s happened, and I don’t think I’m even going to try now. The phone starts ringing, and I can see there are half a dozen files waiting to be transcribed. So I crack my knuckles, pick up the phone, and get to work.
The next hour flies by. I take lots of messages, and finally pluck up the courage to deliver them to him just before ten a.m. He’s finished his Zoom call with the guy in the UK, and he’s now sitting at his computer desk, fingers flying over his keyboard, although he sits back when I walk in.
“Hey,” he says. “How are you doing?”
“Good, thank you.” I put his phone messages and a cup of coffee in front of him. “I’m supposed to remind you that you’re meeting Zach and Amy in the boardroom at ten.”
“Oh, shit, yeah. I forgot.” He gets up and starts collecting folders and bits of paper. “How are you getting on with the work?”
“I’ve finished transcribing the first five files. I’m about to start the longer one now.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry about that. It’s a bit technical. Just do your best, and I’ll correct it later, okay?”
I nod. He picks up his coffee cup and stops in front of me. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”
“I’m fine, thank you. Marion got me a few snacks, so…”
He smiles. “Good.” His gaze lingers on mine for a moment.
God, he’s so fucking gorgeous. I swallow hard. “You’ve got the presentation to The Fertility Group at eleven, too. Don’t forget.”
He pulls an ‘eek’ face. “Fuck. Yeah. Okay, I’d better get going. I’ll see you at lunch.”
“Okay.” I watch him walk out and stride off down the corridor.
Blowing out a breath, I go back to my desk and put my headphones on. I bring up a new document, and press the play button on the foot pedal.
Saxon’s deep, sexy, slightly husky voice begins talking. “Kingpinz Online Health Care is an automated system made up of PHP, CSS, JavaScript, and MYSQL for the database. The purpose of this Online Health Care system is to help improve and optimize all the processes within the institution. Item A: How to set up NZAI’s Online Health Care System in PHP with Full Source Code. Number one: Run the XAMPP control panel and start MySQL and Apache…”
Okay. Now I have an idea what it’s about, I rewind the file, type the general introduction, then continue with the technical details. “Number two: Go to C, colon, backslash, xampp, backslash, htdocs and extract the downloaded zip file, open brackets, healthcare, close brackets inside the folder. Number three: Open the browser and go to http, colon, forward slash, forward slash, localhost, forward slash, phpmyadmin, forward slash, to create the database…”
The report gradually gets more technical as it progresses. I can see what he’s doing though: creating a template that can be modified by individual healthcare providers to make personalized healthcare systems to manage schedules and appointments on the back-end for admin and doctors, and contact pages and hospital information on the front-end for clients.
At one point, there are about five seconds of recording that I can’t make out—either he knocked the recording device or tried to record over something he wanted to erase and got the timing wrong. I type a note, highlighted in red, saying what happened, then add what I think he might have said, including a joke for good measure, hoping it’ll make him laugh.
I finish the file just before twelve and upload it to the folder. Then I get up, stretch, and go for a walk to the Ladies’.
When I get back, his office door is open. I can hear him moving around, and his printer producing a ream of printed paper. I extract a bunch of folders that Kip has obviously returned to the filing in-tray, take them over to the cabinet, and start finding them homes.
