almost as though any connection between thought and action had been severed. She knew that she ought to apologise. Whatever he said about first names and appreciating honesty and trying to make his employees feel comfortable, he still owned the company she worked for.
But she found it difficult not to voice her objections. She had spent too many years witnessing the price of her motherâs silence.
âWhy didnât you just tell the poor woman that you were tired of her?â
â The poor woman? â All trace of charm had disappeared from his face and he glowered at her. âYou have no idea what youâre talking about when you refer to Rachel as the poor woman, and I have no idea why Iâm bothering to elaborate on any of this with you.â
âGuilt?â she suggested. âGuilt that I saw through your little manoeuvre? A basic sense of decency in realising that I need some kind of explanation? Even if I am only an employee? I wouldnât suggest this normally, but you did say that you enjoyed the open forum.â
He shook his head and raked his fingers through his hair, then he shot her a frustrated, perplexed look from under his lashes. âSo, I gather, do you,â he commented, eyebrows raised, and she smiled serenely at him.
âIâm not in the habit of being quite so outspokenââ
âNot in the habit! God, I should think you send men running in the opposite direction as fast as their legs can take them the minute you confront them with your brand of open forum chit-chat!â
Jessica went bright red and stabbed a few of the vegetables on her plate with misdirected aggression.
âThis is ridiculous,â she muttered, eating a mouthful of food that now tasted like sawdust. âAll of this is beside the point. Whatever your reasons for getting me to your office, and whether I approve of them or not, the point of my being here is in my briefcase on the ground.â
âOh, no, you donât,â he told her darkly. âYou generated this topic of conversation, and weâll finish it.â
âLike you said, you donât owe me an explanation...â
âBut weâll be working together and I donât intend to spend my time being treated like some kind of inhuman monster.â
âDoes it matter, just so long as we get the job done?â
âYes, I rather think it does.â
Jessica didnât say anything. She concentrated on her food and waited for him to speak.
âAnd would you like to know why? Because I wouldnât want you to think that I spend my time chasing women. Weâll be working together, and I canât have you feeling threatened, now, can I?â Which, she thought, neatly put her in her place.
âI feel so much better for that. Thank you for setting my anxious mind at rest.â
âWhere do you get it from?â
âGet what from?â
âThat special talent you have for biting sarcasm? I canât see Robert dealing all that well with that viperlike tongue of yours.â
âRobert,â Jessica informed him stoutly, âis a sweetie.â And Iâm not normally prone to biting sarcasm, she thought to herself, but then again the rest of the human race donât provoke me quite like you do.
âOh, good grief.â He closed his knife and fork and signalled for another bottle of wine.
Had they consumed one already? She had barely noticed what she had been drinking, and, looking down, she realised that she had done justice to her plate of food, also without noticing.
âAnd just to clear the air,â he informed her, âI donât walk around treating women like second-rate citizens.â
âIâm sure you donât.â
âThatâs right, so you can wipe that supercilious expression off your face.â
âLook, thereâs really no need...â
âRachel, just for the record, started off as a bit of fun, but I
Brian Robertson, Ron Smallwood