Crazy, Undercover, Love. Nikki Moore

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СКАЧАТЬ and impossible not to inadvertently copy. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll give it some serious thought and let you know what I decide.’

      Discussing the idea of applying with Jess, who’d replied with a heartening, ‘Go for it!’ I was stunned to be offered the job after a demanding recruitment process. My team leadership experience was limited and I was certain there were better-qualified candidates but John’s reference and the policy of internal progression meant I was given the chance to prove myself. For the first eighteen months I did, and it was fantastic. Mandy, the assistant I recruited directly from the reception team, was lovely. She was eager to please and efficient and we got on well. Then she went on maternity leave and decided not to return and I got handed Tony Ferrier as part of an internal transfer I never got to the bottom of.

      In his mid-twenties, broad–shouldered, squat and slightly pinkish, he reminded me of an ex-public school boy, swaggering around the place from the beginning. But he was polite enough, did his work with a minimum of fuss and didn’t create any drama, so I didn’t think I had reason to worry. At first we got on okay and shared a few jokes.

      One Monday I came into the office and frowned, studying him. ‘You look a bit green Tony. Are you all right to be here?’

      ‘Yes,’ he smiled looking sickly, his normally pink cheeks pale. ‘I’ve been on a stag weekend. The after-effects are getting to me, that’s all.’

      ‘Right. Well, take it easy, drink plenty of water,’ I disappeared into my office and came back out, handing him a pack of tablets and can of energy drink, ‘and make use of these.’

      ‘Thanks.’ Taking them from me gratefully: ‘Do you suffer with hangovers often then?’

      ‘No. I keep a stock of stuff hanging around for staff. It comes from most of them working into the early hours. It’s hard for them to fall asleep when they finish, they’re still buzzing, so there’s a tendency to go for after-work drinks.’

      ‘Right.’ He sighed and rubbed his head.

      I smiled sympathetically. ‘Have you got some quiet work you can do?’

      ‘Filing?’ he asked hopefully.

      ‘Okay. I’ll take the phones for a few hours while you do that and then why don’t you knock off early? I can handle things on my own.’

      ‘If you’re sure … I wouldn’t want you to think—’

      ‘I don’t. It was a special occasion, wasn’t it? And you’ve been doing well the past few weeks. Everyone’s allowed a night out occasionally.’

      ‘Thanks. If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it.’

      ‘It’s fine. I know you won’t make a habit of it.’ A statement rather than a question, just so he knew I wouldn’t put up with it on a regular basis.

      ‘No.’ He groaned, rubbing his forehead again, ‘I won’t.’

      ‘So was it good?’ Leaning forward I pressed a few buttons on his handset to forward his calls to my phone, then looked up at him.

      ‘What?’

      ‘The stag do? What did you get up to? What’s the equivalent of tying someone to a lamppost nowadays?’

      I glanced up, noting how bloodshot his pale-blue eyes were.

      ‘It was my older brother’s do. We made him dress as a woman and tell everyone we met that it was what he did to relax.’

      I laughed, stepping back. ‘Oh, dear. Very mean.’

      ‘It was quite funny. It took some persuading but I won. He always says I get my own way, whatever I want,’ he said, returning my smile before going quiet. Our gaze held for a few seconds longer than polite and his smile widened.

      Uh-oh, I thought. That’s not where I was going with this.

      ‘Anyway,’ I changed direction briskly, ‘I’d better get on with some work. And you’ve got that filing to do,’ I reminded him pointedly.

      ‘Yes.’

      As I backed away, he held his place, still smiling at me, still trying to maintain eye contact. As I went back into my office I had a twinge of unease but dismissed it quickly.

      Everything was fine for a few weeks. Then, one Friday afternoon, I dropped a file, muttering under my breath. Tony appeared next to me, squatting down to help gather up the papers, handing them to me, fingers brushing against mine.

      ‘Thanks,’ I fumbled out breathlessly, flustered by my show of clumsiness. As I stood up I realised too late we were way too close. But to step away too obviously would be rude so I stayed put, shuffling the paperwork into order.

      Staring into my eyes, he brushed something off my cheek. ‘Eyelash.’

      ‘Thanks.’ It was a line, and an old one, but it may have been genuine, so I said nothing, just smiled and looked over my shoulder. ‘I’ve got a report to finish so…’

      ‘Yes, it’s due in tomorrow morning.’

      ‘I’ll get to it then.’ I paused awkwardly, not sure if I should say something after all.

      ‘I’m really enjoying working with you, Charley. You’re a good boss,’ he said, seeming to emphasise the last word.

      Phew. He got that all we had was a professional relationship. ‘Good, great. Pleased to hear that. See you later.’ Turning, I swept into my office and was soon immersed in the sales data I was analysing. Forgetting about Tony and any fears I had that we were being too familiar.

      But two weeks later he started ‘accidentally’ brushing against me in the outer office where he sat, as well as making mildly suggestive comments. I said nothing initially. I’d look stupid and paranoid if I raised it with him and had misunderstood what was going on.

      I’d always thought there was nothing wrong with office romances if everyone was happy and they were handled sensitively, but they’ve never been for me. Especially with a junior member of staff, who’d be in an unfair position if things went wrong, given the imbalance of power. So the company’s anti-workplace relationship policy suited me fine. It was a moot point anyway. I didn’t find Tony attractive and there was something about him I was starting to dislike. So I gave him subtle ‘back off’ signals, hoping he’d get bored and leave me alone but it only increased his determination. One day he cornered me in the file run.

      ‘Fancy dinner with me tonight, Charlotte? Just the two of us.’

      My back was to him as I flicked through confidential files in a cabinet, so he didn’t see the face I pulled or the deep silent breath I took to control my annoyance. By then there was a niggle about the potentially patronising way he spoke to female staff, but none of them had come to me and there wasn’t enough evidence to raise it with him.

      Shutting the drawer slowly, I turned around. ‘Thank you for the offer, Tony, but it’s not a good idea. I’m your line manager and would prefer to keep this professional. Our contracts also make clear relationships between colleagues aren’t allowed.’ I forced away the urge to demand he call me Miss Wright. I didn’t ask any other team members to and СКАЧАТЬ