Miss Spelled (11 page)

Listening to his voice, another teary surge hits me. How could anyone be so stupid as to cast a spell from the internet? What does it say about me that telling the truth wasn’t my first, or even second, choice?

His gentle voice has a harder edge to it now, perhaps this is his ‘work voice’. I have a ‘teacher’ voice with the kids, it reminds them that the boss is the woman who is slightly taller than them, and that they must pay attention to me. At the same time, it tells them that I love each and every one of them, and take enormous pride in being able to watch them grow and develop under my care. A little tear rolls down my cheek at the thought of everything that has been lost.

The sound of Aiden’s voice makes me want to break into a river of tears, but tears aren’t going to solve this situation.

Aiden’s boss, Donovan Bennett, is sitting at the table, while Aiden is pacing the room.

‘Donovan, I don’t see the point of prolonging it any further. This cocktail party scheduled for tonight is an exercise in futility. We buy them a few drinks and then retrench them?’ Aiden says.

Donovan nods wisely. ‘I understand, believe me. This isn’t the first cull I’ve lived through — if I live through this one, which is unlikely.’

‘They all know. Word has spread. Most have mortgages and families to support.’

‘I’m with you, Aiden. Really, I am. But what can we do?’ Donovan says, throwing his hands into the surrender position. His face is redder and blotchier than normal — he looks like he might keel over from a heart attack at any moment.

‘Hunter’s only taking this path because he believes that severe pruning of the staff will lead to bigger savings, which reflects directly in his commission. But he’s always been short-sighted and opted for the most extreme measures without weighing up the options.’

‘His reputation precedes him, that’s for sure. I don’t suppose you can convince him otherwise?’ Donovan asks.

Aiden lets out a laugh. ‘I’d be the last person he’d listen to — in fact, he’d slash even more just to spite me. I’ve re-worked the figures, take a look at these,’ Aiden says as he pushes his iTablet in Donovan’s direction. ‘According to these my area is more profitable as a team of five than the projections for a team of three, or possibly zero.’

Donovan spins and twirls his silver Cross fountain pen like a marching band leader.

‘Hmmmm, are these workable? In reality, I mean?’ Donovan asks.

‘Yes, definitely. Look at the fall in revenue when we’re cut down to three, and look at it here remaining as five. Even holding all other factors as they are now, with the decline in client spend, we still stand to make more profit as a team of five.’

Aiden sits in the chair next to Donovan, who is now nodding and appears to be deep in thought.

‘What about the rest of the office? Can you apply this to other areas as well?’

‘I can try. There’s no doubt about it, some retrenchments have to be made. We’re carrying dead wood and we’re overstaffed in terms of administrators, and some teams can be merged, but I can give it a go.’

Donovan seems to lose some of his ruddiness and perks up a little. ‘See what you can come up with, as quickly as you can. We need to fight a little on this one.’

‘If Amelia had been sent instead of Hunter, I know she’d be open to these figures,’ Aiden says.

‘Where’s she working?’

‘She’s in Sydney, wrapping up another merger. We missed her by only a month.’

‘Can you send the figures to her anyway, get her opinion? She’s more senior in the organisation than Hunter and may be in a position to effect some changes.’ Donovan asks.

‘I’ll try. Where is he anyway? If he calls a meeting, the least he can do is show up,’ Aiden says as he paces the length of the boardroom.

‘I’d say every moment without him is a good one. Enjoy it while it lasts,’ Donovan replies.

I watch like a besotted teenager, shifting a little too close to the doorframe, eventually losing my balance and toppling in the doorway.

Aiden spins around and within two easy strides has reached me on the floor. He opens his mouth, his gorgeously sexy mouth, but says nothing. Hunter approaches and nearly trips over me on the floor.

‘Sending your assistant to eavesdrop on conversations, are you Hunter? That’s a bit low, isn’t it? Even for you,’ Aiden says.

Although the words fly over my head, due to me being sprawled on the floor, they strike me deeply in the heart. I fight not to burst into tears at the thought of Aiden believing me to be the enemy.

‘If you’re after a private conversation, Aiden, perhaps you should try closing the door. That is what doors are for, I believe,’ Hunter replies.

‘I could say the same to you.’ Aiden says as he offers a hand to me. I take it and sparkles fly throughout my body as I struggle back onto my feet.
Please don’t ever let me go
. ‘Instead of subjecting the rest of us to party time with your assistant.’

My skin burns and my insides roast in embarrassment.

‘Now, now, Aiden. Ms Mercer is my personal assistant. She’s here to assist me, personally. Anyway, I need it. Perhaps you should look at getting yourself one too? It might improve your mood. Now, let’s get this meeting underway,’ Hunter says as he pushes me into the room and narrowly misses hitting shoulders with Aiden.

* * *

How dare Hunter refer to me like that?! He made me sound like nothing but a hooker, around to assist him personally. Great, now Aiden probably has an even lower opinion of me. Not only am I a snitch, but a whoring one at that
.

I stagger further into the boardroom in the four-inch heels that seemed such a good idea this morning but are now causing me to limp like a three-legged dog, and take the seat closest to the door. Hunter sits near me, at the head of the table, while Aiden and Donovan sit opposite. Neither look like they want to be here. In fact, if it weren’t for Aiden’s aftershave floating across the table at me, I’d prefer to leave as well.

The animosity between Aiden and Hunter is electrifying. The entire room seems to buzz. It’s amazing that the lights don’t flicker and hum with the electrical interference.

The meeting starts. Donovan looks as though he is barely holding off a coronary and Aiden and Hunter clash on every point. Meanwhile, the duties of a personal assistant are foreign to me, so I take a few notes for appearances’ sake.

My efforts to make eye contact with Aiden are futile. He avoids me completely. It’s as though he can’t see me, which makes it impossible to believe that this is my Aiden.

By the end of the meeting 40 minutes later, there still hasn’t been any success in making eye contact with Aiden, even though my gaze lingered too long, too often, unable to look at anyone or anything else for fear he’d never be in my sight again. There’s a desperate urge to fling myself at him and tell him of our life together, but restraint must be exercised, because being barred by security from entering the building isn’t going to get me closer to him.

The personal assistant in me managed to take down a few notes, keywords and phrases, but at the end of it all when I look down at my notepad, it’s covered with my well-practiced signature — Lou St. James — and love hearts. Jesus! Better not let Hunter see that. He’d boot me out the door without opening it first.

Later, while sitting at my desk, the conversation between Aiden and Donovan is replayed in my head, and like a literal light bulb, it hits me— what I have to do to win Aiden back and help him defeat Hunter. I need to be a double agent.

* * *

After work, the cocktail party is held in the Chart Room of the Crown Towers. There are trays and trays of champagne, beer and assorted cocktails being handed around, along with intricate
hors d’oeuvres
that look way to pretty to eat. There is cool jazz floating out of the speakers and mood lighting to match. It has everything, except a proper party atmosphere. Someone forgot to pack the fun.

Not knowing anyone, except for Hunter, who thankfully hasn’t spotted me yet, I stand next to Ella the receptionist and strike up a conversation. My fear is that Hunter will expect me to continue the party in his suite tonight which, apart from making me ill, will do nothing to further my plan.

‘So, when’s the hatchet going to fall?’ Ella asks, sucking back a cosmopolitan.

‘I’m not really sure.’ Which is the truth. ‘But let’s not talk about it. Let’s just have a bit of fun. Can I get you another drink?’ I ask. If you can’t baffle them with bullshit, or impress them with genius, then by all means, ply them with alcohol.

‘Why not? If I’m going to be out of a job next week, the least they can do is give me a decent hangover,’ Ella laughs.

I find two more cosmos and a spot by a tall table with a few barstools and plants around it. Prime real estate in any cocktail party, and a little garden to boot.
Nice
.

‘Come on over here. We may as well be comfortable. I’m going to need a double foot amputation if I keep these shoes on any longer.’

‘They are gorgeous though,’ Ella says, eyeing them off.

‘Yes, but like all things pretty, they’re not very functional.’

Within minutes we strike up a friendship based on a mutual sense of humour and love of all things pretty.

‘So, speaking of pretty things, how long have you been shagging Hunter?’ Ella asks.

My
vol au vent
lodges itself in my throat and causes a coughing fit.

‘Sorry, I just figured that you two were an item,’ she smiles. ‘The walls aren’t sound-proofed.’

‘Oh, Jesus!’ I splutter.

Ground, please open up and swallow me now
.

‘I…we’re…not…’

Ella raises her eyebrows. There’s no point in trying to fool her. She’s the receptionist, she knows everything.

‘It was a mistake. I should never have got involved with him. From now on we’re just colleagues. Not even colleagues, actually. I’m only temping for him while he’s out here for this job. Then he’ll be back to London and I’ll be…’

‘Unemployed like the rest of us,’ Ella giggles. ‘What are you going to do after this assignment? Do they have another lined up for you?’ she asks.

For a brief moment, my kids flash through my mind, my classroom, the sounds of children playing at lunchtime, their sweet little faces lit up by pure fun. Although there has never been any question that teaching was the right occupation for me, it was never clear just how much I loved it until now.

‘I am returning to teaching,’ I say. It’s true. Once this mess is sorted out, my days will be spent in my rightful place — in the classroom, surrounded by my munchkins. Besides, it’s the only job in the world where I am the tallest in the room.

‘You’re a teacher?’ she asks. ‘Jeez, I wouldn’t have picked that. You dress too well – too expensively, I should say.’

‘Yep, I’ve got a great wardrobe,’ I say.
Just no house surrounding it
. My little cottage flashes through my mind. My beautiful little sanctuary, gone.

‘So is he married?’

‘Who?’ I ask.

‘Him.’ She looks over to Hunter.

‘Hunter? God no. He’s too…’ …
much of a selfish, self-absorbed A-grade rat-bastard to be married. No woman could possibly want to spend her life with him, unless she was either a masochist or his equal
. ‘…too much of a career man, married to the job.’

‘What a shame, he’s so gorgeous. Look, he’s left little puddles of sex appeal on the floor behind him. I’m tempted to go and bathe in one.’

We watch Hunter as he schmoozes senior management. He certainly is gorgeous. If only he used his sex appeal for good instead of evil, had a nicer personality, and wasn’t such a conceited arsehole, he’d be close to perfect.
Close to Aiden
. It’s been one whole day since we’ve kissed. One long, crazy day. Suddenly, he comes through the door and I feel myself sit up straighter.

‘He’s gorgeous too, isn’t he?’ Ella says, cocking her head in Aiden’s direction.

Where to begin?
I could list all of his gorgeousness, alphabetically, just off the top of my head, but try not to be too obvious.

‘What’s his story?’ I ask Ella.

‘Aiden is…’

My breath comes to a standstill.

‘…one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. Which is surprising, seeing as he comes from a wealthy family. You know, they usually keep to themselves, don’t want to mix with the minions, but everyone loves him. He’s always got time for people, always says hello and asks how the weekend was. He’s a real sweetie. It’s such a shame.’

My bubble of love and adoration is so full it bursts. Hang on! A shame?

‘What’s a shame?’ I blurt.

Ella takes another slurp of her cosmo and throws a few nuts into her mouth. She motions that she’s chewing and will answer soon.

He’s not sick with a terminal illness is he? He’s not gay? Oh God, please don’t say he’s gay! What hope would I have then? I can’t compete with another man
.

Aiden helps himself to a drink and stands chatting to his team members. How handsome does he look in his Prada suit? No one wears clothes like he does. No one wears naked like he does either, with those long, athletic legs. Runner’s legs— lean but with defined, rock-like muscles.

And those shoulders underneath the designer jacket. I close my eyes and call upon the images stored inside my head to re-live the first time I saw him without his top on. I nearly passed out. Surely no man like this actually existed in real life? Each muscle was perfectly defined and later, every muscle in his shoulders and arms moved when he brushed his teeth. It was the most erotic episode of oral hygiene imaginable. And he is all mine. Every delicious bit of him.

Was. Was mine. Past tense
.

I want to collapse on the floor and wail loudly while beating my fists against the carpet.
Why, why, why, why? What the hell have I done? Bloody idiot
. This is by far the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, cataclysmically dumb. Literally.

Ella coughs and clears her throat with a drink of water.

‘Oh, those peanuts can really go down the wrong way, can’t they?’

‘You were saying, that it’s a shame about Aiden?’ I urge, holding my drink in a death grip.