The Boss's Baby

Lewis was waiting for her by the side door, sitting behind the wheel of his sleek navy Fairlane Ghia. Spotting her, he was out of the car in a flash.

‘I was keeping the air-conditioning running,’ he said as he steered her gently over to the passenger door. ‘You might have to give me directions. I know you live in Gladesville somewhere, but I’m not sure of the address.’

‘Just head down Victoria Road,’ she said wretchedly while he settled her in the passenger seat and buckled the seat belt for her. When his arm twice brushed across her still aching breasts she flinched, then froze. ‘I...I’ll tell you where to turn,’ she said stiffly.

Thank God it was only about a fifteen-minute drive at this time of day. The thought of going anywhere in a car with her dangerously rolling stomach was horrendous, the thought of having to bear much more of Lewis’s solicitous attentions even worse.

The urge to scream at him was intense. Yet why should she want to do that? It was Nicholas she should be screaming at. He was the bastard, not her boss.

Somehow she got through the next quarter of an hour, but when the Fairlane slid quietly into the kerb outside her block of flats she exhaled deeply, which brought a sharp sideways glance from Lewis.

‘I’m coming up with you,’ he announced baldly.

Her head whipped round, her expression pained. ‘Oh, no, Lewis, please don’t. I...I just want to be alone.’

‘I don’t want any arguments, Olivia.’

Groaning, she closed her eyes. Olivia knew her boss could be stubborn. And quite forceful at times. She could admire such qualities at work, but not here, and not now.

Time for a little forcefulness of her own.

Steeling her still queasy stomach, she faced him with an equally stubborn expression. ‘I’m sorry, Lewis, but we’re not at work now, and you’ll just have to take no for an answer. If you’re worried I might do something silly, then don’t I’m made of tougher stuff than that.’

‘We all have moments of weakness, Olivia,’ he said quietly, and she wondered if he was talking about what had happened earlier, or how he had felt when his wife left him. ‘It’s not good to be alone,’ he added tellingly, ‘when you’re this unhappy.’

‘I won’t be alone,’ she told him. ‘At least...not for long. I’m going home tomorrow for the entire Christmas break.’

‘Where’s home?’ he asked, then shook his head in exasperation. ‘God, I don’t even know that, do I? I don’t know much about you at all. You’ve been my private and personal secretary for eighteen months and I know no more about you than I would a temp. Why is that, Olivia? Is that your fault, or mine?’

She shrugged. ‘If you recall, when you hired me I was warned not to dress too flashily and not to be too familiar in my manner towards you. Your wife didn’t care for your last secretary’s forwardness, remember?’

‘Yes, I remember,’ he said ruefully.

‘That’s the only reason I told you about my relationship with Nicholas—because I thought it might put Dinah’s mind at rest about any possible intentions she might think I secretly harboured towards you.’

‘And why you never do yourself up much for work, perhaps?’

‘In a way.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It actually suits me to dress the way I do,’ she told him with a tight, dry little smile. ‘It’s cheap.’

Lewis frowned. ‘Cheap?’

Olivia almost laughed. ‘That’s something you should have worked out about me, Lewis. I’m cheap. Oh, not in the way I was cheap today, though God knows that was cheap to end all cheaps. But cheap meaning money. In other words, I’m tight-fisted. Stingy. Penny-pinching. I have a penchant for budgets, you see. And savings. And lists. Oh, yes, I’m a great list-maker.

‘But my worst sin of all,’ she swept on, ‘is that I’m boring. According to my recently defunct fiancе, I don’t have a spontaneous, impulsive bone in my body. That’s why he left me in favour of a fantastic, funloving free spirit named Yvette who does all sorts of exciting things to him, things boring old Olivia would never do in a million years!

‘But he was wrong, wasn’t he?’ She flashed Lewis a sickly smile, near hysteria hiding behind its savage sweetness. ‘I can do those things. And in an office, no less. Nicholas would have been surprised, don’t you think?’

‘I think you should forget about Nicholas,’ Lewis advised.

‘Oh, I will. In time. I’m going in now, Lewis. Alone. Sorry I didn’t get you anything for Christmas. I meant to buy something today, but today didn’t turn out quite like I’d planned. Nothing lately is turning out quite like I planned. Do have a happy Christmas and a well deserved break. Not that you will. I know you’ll spend the next five weeks in your laboratory, inventing more marvellous new products for your All Woman line. But that’s not work to you, is it? That’s your pleasure. I’m rattling on, aren’t I? Sorry. I’m fine. Truly. This time tomorrow I’ll be on the train home. Funnily enough, I’m almost looking forward to it. Didn’t think I ever would. Christmas at home is always a madhouse. Maybe this year I’ll fit right in.

‘See you in five weeks, boss,’ she added as she scrambled out of the car.

Olivia waved him off with a plastic smile on her face. Yes, she would see him again in five weeks. With her resignation letter in tow. Her conscience demanded she stay on for the four weeks’ notice required in her contract, but that was as much as she could cope with.

It would be difficult to face him every day, but she would manage. And she would find Lewis a replacement who wouldn’t give him any trouble, a nice, efficient, sensible, mature woman. Married, preferably. Happily married.

Poor Lewis hadn’t had much luck with his secretaries lately. First, an oversexed blonde trying to catch herself a meal-ticket for life, then an undersexed brunette trying to prove she could be a right raver when required.

The right raver felt anything but as she made her way on glass legs up the stairs of the plain red-brick building to her ancient and tiny second-floor flat. Her head was pounding and her stomach on the roll again. She just made it to the bathroom before being sick once more.

After her stomach was well and truly empty, she stripped and stood under the shower for ages, trying to wash the various smells from her body.

Feeling only marginally better but a lot cleaner, she finally emerged, dried herself, dragged on an oversized T-shirt then lay down on top of her bed. After half an hour she abandoned the idea of sleep in the claustrophobic and stuffy room, and rose to throw open the windows then make herself some black coffee. Pain tablets didn’t seem like a good idea on her heaving stomach, despite the throbbing in her temples. An ice-pack helped a little.

By seven, she’d managed a little Vegemite toast, washed down with some more strong black coffee. Afterwards, she tried to pack, but in the end abandoned the idea in favour of television. Watching an episode of Cracker made her feel marginally better, her messed-up life seeming quite normal compared to the twisted, tortured lives in that show.

It also took her mind off things. It was eleven by the time she turned off the television and faced sleep once more. She was lying there, staring blankly up at the ceiling, when she remembered her pill.

Jumping up, she raced into the bathroom. Good God, what if she’d gone to sleep and forgotten it entirely? The thought appalled her.

Olivia swallowed Friday’s pill and returned to bed where, once again, sleep eluded her. She began wondering what Lewis really thought of the way she’d acted. He’d made all the right noises afterwards, being a decent man. But he had to have lost respect for her. Perverse, since in her intoxicated state she’d thought respect was what she was looking for.

Well, she was going to pay for her folly, wasn’t she? She was going to have to leave a job she liked and a boss she admired. People did pay for their sins, didn’t they? You could do the right thing all your life, but make one mistake and your whole world could come crashing down. Not that her world hadn’t already come crashing down before today.

Sighing wearily, she closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind. Sleep did come, eventually, but it didn’t last. She woke shortly after two, sweating, and with stomach cramps. It seemed the consequences of the Christmas party hadn’t done with her yet. One of the prawns or oysters she’d eaten must have been bad.

Crawling from her bed, she struggled along to the toilet where she sat for what seemed like hours. Finally, she made it back into bed where she tossed and turned till her next visit to the bathroom. By morning, she was pale and exhausted. Nothing, however, she vowed staunchly, was going to stop her packing and getting on that train.

The telephone started ringing as she was heading for the door with her bags mid-morning. After a momentary hesitation, Olivia kept on walking, telling herself that she didn’t have the time to talk to anyone. The taxi was waiting for her downstairs.

If it was Nicholas, then he could go hang himself. If it was Lewis ... well, the sooner her boss realised she wasn’t his problem the better. She didn’t want his pity.

And that was all it was. Pity. His heart still belonged to his wife. Any fool could see that. What had happened in his office yesterday had been sex. Nothing more. Everyone knew men could enjoy sex without being emotionally involved.

As did drunken women, it seemed, whispered a snide little voice in her head.

The phone kept ringing all the while she was locking her flat door. What if it was Lewis, thinking he could have more of the same over the Christmas break? What if he hadn’t fully understood that hadn’t been the real Olivia making love to him yesterday? What if, underneath, he’d believed her when she’d said she’d always fancied him?

Oh, dear God...

Shuddering anew, Olivia hurried downstairs and into the waiting taxi.

CHAPTER FOUR