The Boss's Virgin

Pippa grinned at her. ‘No reason at all, no! Anyway, you didn’t say what he was like to work for!’

‘He’s quite tough, too, actually, but in a different way. He expects us to work very hard, and he won’t tolerate mistakes, but he isn’t nasty, like Dalton. So long as you work hard he’s decent to you. Half the girls in the office are nuts about him, but he never encourages them. He’s a happily married man.’

‘Has he got children?’

‘One, a boy, around four years old, called Johnny. Randal has a big silver-framed photo of him on his desk. And another photo of his wife in evening dress—she really is fantastic. Wait until you see her!’

She was not to see Mrs Harding for some months, but Randal Harding was back at work the following Monday. Pippa had got in early to give herself a head start; she was only just able to keep up with the work as yet, and Miss Dalton was watching her like a hawk, pouncing on her every mistake. Pippa could not afford to lose this job, so she’d got an earlier bus that morning.

It was a fresh, blustery day; her curly chestnut hair had got blown about as she’d walked along the road, and her skin was flushed with exercise and cool air.

Nobody else was in her office; she sat down in front of her word processor and switched on, arranged her pens beside a pad next to the phone and was about to start work when the door opened. Looking round with a smile, Pippa was startled to see a man entering the office. She got an immediate impression of height and dark, brooding good looks.

He looked surprised too, staring at her. ‘Who are you?’

She didn’t like his curt tone. Coldly, she answered, ‘I work here. Who are you?’

‘I’m the managing director.’

She gulped. Oh, no! She should have guessed. She had known he would be back at work today.

‘Would you make me some coffee and bring it through to my office?’ he asked. ‘Bring a pad, too. I want you to take dictation.’

The door shut again; he was gone, leaving Pippa breathless. Well, that hadn’t been a good beginning, had it? She wouldn’t have left a very favourable impression on him. And she had been so keen to impress him!

Hurriedly she made him coffee, got a few biscuits from the tin kept in the cupboard where the coffee-making equipment was stored, laid a tray, collected her pad and several pens, and went through to his office.

That first session with Randal was tense and anxious; she was terrified of making a mistake. He was clearly in a temper; she sensed he would have gone into hyper-rage for any reason, however slight. So she concentrated hard, listening intently, her pen moving fast and fluently over the pad while he dictated several memos to staff, letters to clients.

Miss Dalton arrived just as he finished. Pippa incredulously saw that the snow queen looked flustered, her skin flushed, apologising as she hurried into the room, still wearing her smart black raincoat.

‘I am so sorry, Mr Harding; I left early so that I would be here when you arrived, but there was some sort of hold-up on the buses; I had to wait for ages before I could get one.’

He nodded impatiently. ‘Never mind, Miss Dalton. Pippa was here early and has taken dictation.’ He looked at Pippa. ‘Get those ready to sign as soon as possible, would you? Thank you.’

Pippa retreated, still shaky, and felt Miss Dalton’s icy eyes on her all the way.

Judy was just hanging up her coat. ‘Where have you been?’ she asked, and Pippa told her in a whisper. Judy whistled. ‘She won’t forgive you for that for a long time! The boss is her property; she’ll hate you for being here when she wasn’t.’

She was absolutely right. Miss Dalton was on Pippa’s case all day, snapping at her, complaining about her work, criticising her for wearing eye make-up, not to mention vivid red varnish on her fingernails in the office.

‘You look like a tart! Mr Harding doesn’t like his employees to wear that much make-up! Don’t come to work like that again!’

Pippa mumbled an apology; the other girls discreetly averted their heads.

Later that morning Miss Dalton struck again accusing her of gossiping to Judy when she should be working.

‘I’ve finished the work Mr Harding asked me to do—shall I take the letters to him to sign?’

‘No,’ snapped Miss Dalton. ‘I’ll do it!’ She came over to Pippa’s desk, picked up the perfectly typed letters and went out with them.

‘Brrr…icy weather,’ Judy whispered. ‘I told you so. She hates you now. Take another step near Mr Harding and she’ll kill you.’

‘It isn’t fair. He asked me to take dictation, and I did—it wasn’t my fault she wasn’t here.’

Miss Dalton came briskly back and loaded Pippa with more work, telling her to hurry up and finish it.

All that day, Pippa couldn’t do anything right.

It was huge relief when Miss Dalton finally departed, leaving Pippa to finish a new pile of work she had been given to do.

‘I’ll be here for hours—she wants all this done by the morning,’ Pippa moaned once the door had shut on the older woman.’

‘That will teach you,’ Judy teased before she left. ‘In future try not to be seen with the boss! Remember, you are a lowly slave and she is the queen!’

It was another hour before Pippa finally got to the bottom of the pile and could switch off her machine and clear her desk. Everyone else had gone; the offices were empty and silent. As she got up to leave the door opened and to her dismay there was Randal Harding again.

Glancing at him, she felt her heart flip over—he was intensely sexy, in his three-piece dark suit, a smooth-fitting waistcoat over his white shirt. He leaned against the doorframe, re-knotting his maroon silk tie.

‘Still here? You work long hours, very conscientious,’ he said with a faintly teasing smile. ‘Everyone else gone?’

She nodded dumbly, unable to speak because he made her so self-conscious.

‘Come on, then; the cleaners will be here in a minute.’ He switched off the lights, plunging the room into darkness, and she hurried towards the door, stumbling into him and feeling something like an electric shock at the contact.

‘Have you got far to go? Where do you live?’ he asked.

‘West Hackham. Twenty minutes by bus,’ she whispered, keeping her eyes down. She was terrified in case Miss Dalton should still be somewhere around, or heard they had left together. Her life wouldn’t be worth living if that happened.

‘Same direction as me. I’ll give you a lift. My car’s parked just down here; come along.’

She hung back, ‘No, really, it doesn’t matter.’

He gave her a wry, amused look. ‘Don’t look so scared. I don’t bite and I won’t make a pass.’

She flushed in horror. ‘No, I didn’t mean…didn’t think…’

He took her elbow and propelled her onwards. ‘Do you live at home, or have you got your own place?’

Why was he asking that? she wondered, still pink and uncertain. The other girls hadn’t said anything about him making passes. Indeed, they’d said he was happily married. Maybe her imagination was working overtime.

They left the building and turned down into the underground car park. Pippa’s eyes widened as they halted beside a long, sleek black Jaguar saloon. She had never driven in a car like that before.

He unlocked the car and put her into the front passenger seat. Pippa stroked the cream leather upholstery, gazed at the polished walnut dashboard, equipped with all sorts of gadgets, including a CD player. It must have cost the earth; he must be very wealthy.

As he started the engine he asked her, ‘Where did you work before you joined us, and why did you leave?’

She told him the name of her old firm. ‘They went into liquidation. We were all made redundant.’