Playing by the Rules: The feel-good heart-warming and uplifting romance perfect for Valentine’s Day

‘You have been busy.’ Anthony smiled widely but followed the smile with a frown. ‘I don’t suppose you did a background on why we’re having a meeting did you?’ He leaned back in his chair.

‘Not really,’ I said. ‘I thought you would know. I thought you … Actually, Anthony, would you like me to cancel this appointment?’

‘You can’t do that.’ Cassandra’s voice from the doorway startled us both. ‘I mean, Bristol is quite a few miles away. He must already be on the train, or driving.’

I looked at Anthony who was frowning again.

‘Cassandra’s right, Magenta,’ he said. ‘I should hear him out. I mean he’s on his way and everything.’

Cassandra looked at me, smugly, but I was becoming worried about this meeting. Anthony hadn’t arranged it and I was positive Arthur Shearman hadn’t either.

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I suppose once you’ve heard what he’s here for things will start to fall into place.’ I looked at Cassandra and the open door to Anthony’s office with one eyebrow raised. ‘Was there anything else?’

‘Um, I just came up to ask Anthony if he wanted his coffee now,’ she mumbled.

‘Yes, he would,’ I said before Anthony could catch his breath. ‘And I have mine black with no sugar.’

Cassandra’s eyes bulged to just enough for me to see how pissed off she was but her voice was sweet when she replied.

‘Coming right up,’ she said, fake smiling her way out of the room.

‘I don’t know what I would have done without Cassandra these past couple of weeks,’ Anthony said. He huffed on the lenses of his glasses, rubbed them with his tie and slid them on. ‘She’s a godsend. If I didn’t need a secretary come receptionist I would have asked her to be my PA.’

‘But you’ve got me now,’ I added, quickly.

‘Of course I have.’ Anthony pulled at his tie and tugged at his shirt collar. As gorgeous and as debonair as he looked in that Hugo Boss suit, formalwear was obviously not his favourite attire. And not surprisingly, if his real talent lay in painting pictures.

Again I wondered why he’d agreed to take over for his father. Perhaps, like me, he didn’t really have a choice. Perhaps his father, who had sounded like an absolute sweetheart on the phone, was really a tyrant who forced Anthony here, threatening to write him out of his will if he didn’t come. Maybe he’d been struggling as an artist and needed to pay some bills. Maybe he was still paying off that expensive engagement ring I’d seen Inez wearing.

Anthony sat staring at the neat piles of letters and other papers I’d straightened out on his desk. Then he scratched his head and looked at me and smiled. He tapped the metal tray on his desk and looked at the letters again. Then he picked up a pen and stared at the phone. Was he expecting a call? When he scratched his head a second time, blew a puff of air up his face and frowned, I knew exactly what was wrong.

Anthony didn’t have a clue where to start. Apart from wrestling with chocolate chip muffins, interviewing me and looking gorgeous, as CEO of the family business this man had no idea which end was up.

‘Should we begin by looking at the letters?’ I asked.

Anthony raised a finger. ‘That’s a good idea.’ He picked up a few of them. ‘Only thing is, I did read through them last week but I’m not sure how to deal with them.’

I sat on the corner of his desk and crossed my legs. He leaned back and appeared to be looking at my legs when Cassandra came in with the coffee. Her face turned bright red and she put a cup of coffee down in front of Anthony.

‘Are you having yours in your office?’ she asked, looking at my legs and the great wax job I’d had.

‘No, I’ll be in here with Anthony for most of the morning, Cassandra, so you can direct any calls for Anthony to his line until I say otherwise.’

‘Fine,’ she said and let my coffee land on the table with a thump. I watched her until she left the room and then took the letters out of Anthony’s hand. Our skin touched for a brief moment and sent a telltale signal to my lower tummy. I squirmed. I’d need cold showers every morning for the next 363 days; I knew that.

‘I hope you don’t mind, Anthony, but I looked at these yesterday. Most of them can be delegated. You know? To your staff along the corridor? They need to see these. All you need to do with post in the future is make sure someone else is doing something about it.’

‘Really? That’s it?’

‘That’s it.’ I smiled, jumping off the desk and shaking out the letters. ‘In fact, why don’t I have Cassandra direct all the post to me from now on? I’ve already made acquaintance with the other staff and they all seem to know their stuff. I’ll redirect everything for you, if you like.’

‘That would be great, Magenta. And what should I do?’

I stood and looked at this little boy lost and all of a sudden his Hugo Boss suit swamped the body of a ten-year-old Anthony with mud on his face and a plaster on his forehead.

‘We’ll figure that out as we go, Anthony. In the meantime you do whatever you need to do to prepare for the meeting. I’ll let you know when Niles Benson arrives.’

I scooped up my coffee cup and went to plonk the post on my desk. Why Cassandra hadn’t already redirected the post instead of dumping it on Anthony, I had no idea. I didn’t trust that woman as far as I could throw her. I went down to reception to have words and found her several centimetres too close to a tall, strikingly smart-looking man in a dark suit. He looked to be in his late thirties. He smiled at me when he noticed me walk in and angled his large frame away from Cassandra and towards me.

‘Oh, Magenta,’ she said. ‘I was just about to buzz you. This is Niles Benson.’

So that’s what a Niles Benson looked like.

‘Thanks, Cassandra, I’ll take it from here.’ I walked over, confidently, and outstretched my hand. One thing Nana Clementine had taught me was always to look confident even when you’re falling to pieces on the inside. I knew Anthony was most likely going to look like a complete amateur compared to Niles Benson so someone here had to look as if they knew what they were doing.

‘I’m Magenta Bright, Anthony Shearman’s PA.’ It rolled nicely off the tongue and I straightened my shoulders with pride.

Niles Benson’s long-fingered hands wrapped around mine. I was surprised by the familiar way he pulled me towards him, still holding my hand and breathing aftershave over me as he said, ‘Pleasure.’ His eyes swept up and down my body. They were piercingly dark and his lashes deliciously long. I wasn’t about to fall for his flirtatious moves as Cassandra may have done.

‘This way,’ I said, trying to unravel my fingers. He followed me up the stairs and I could feel those eyes piercing their way to my underwear as he watched my buttocks progressing up the stairs. Being of mixed parentage, I had managed to acquire a black girl’s bum that a guy I met in New York once told me would never disappear. I had given up asking if my bum looked big in anything I tried on a long time ago. I stopped suddenly on the stairs and Niles Benson’s face nearly made contact with my bottom.

‘I’ll tell Anthony you’re here,’ I said. ‘Please just take a seat in my office.’ On the landing I gestured to my open door. Once Niles was inside I jumped as if I’d just got an electric shock and ran to Anthony’s office. I burst in and found Anthony, jacket off, feet on the windowsill behind his desk and sketching the view from his window.

‘Cool,’ I said looking over his shoulder at the pencilled replica of the hotel and sky outside. ‘You’re really talented at this.’

‘Thanks,’ he said with pink cheeks, spinning back round to face me. ‘It relaxes me. I thought it would help me prepare for the meeting I know nothing about with a man I’ve never heard of.’

‘Well I hope it’s worked, because he’s here. In my office. If you’re ready I’ll send him in.’

‘He’s early,’ said Anthony, putting his jacket back on. I rushed over and helped fix his tie. He sighed and I felt a lovely wave of coffee breath float by me.

‘Don’t worry, Anthony. You’ve got this. Would you like me to sit in?’ Not that I’d know what to say.

‘Er, perhaps I should learn how to handle a meeting on my own. I’m sure that’s what my dad would do.’ Anthony looked at me questioningly and I was sure that if I’d told him not to worry, carry on sketching, I’ll take the meeting, he would have let me deal with Niles.

‘I’ll show him in,’ I said.

When Niles entered Anthony’s office and they shook hands, I saw the ten-year-old Anthony again. His jacket sleeves were so long he had to roll them up to shake hands and he tripped on the extra long trousers of his suit as he tried to climb back into his high leather chair. I offered Niles a coffee, which he declined. Closing the door behind me I shook my head, knowing that Anthony was probably about to make a complete idiot of himself.

I had my office door open and heard Niles about to leave half an hour after he’d arrived. I popped out into the hallway to offer to see Niles to the door and saw that the colour had drained out of Anthony’s face while Niles was strutting like a peacock. Niles almost bowed to me as he left the building and gave me a look I couldn’t fathom – a certain smugness wrapped in fake charm, perhaps. I legged it back upstairs to find out what he’d come for and ignored Cassandra calling after me.

Anthony was at the window when I arrived, opening it wide and loosening his tie.

‘Everything all right, Anthony?’ I asked.

He turned slowly to me, still looking pale.

‘Magenta, I need you to arrange a meeting with the finance department with me for tomorrow morning. I need to look at our sales figures and … well I need to know what’s going on with this company.’ He crashed down onto his chair.