A Very Personal Assistant: Oh-So-Sensible Secretary / The Santorini Marriage Bargain / Hired: Sassy Assistant. Jessica HartЧитать онлайн книгу.
someone else would worry about the day-to-day things.’
‘Like paying the electricity bill?’
‘Exactly. They were both hopeless with money, and just couldn’t be bothered with things like bills, so the electricity was always getting cut off. They thought it was funny that I used to fret, but if I didn’t sort out the practicalities no one else would.’
‘Sounds like they were the opposite of my parents,’ said Phin, as we waited to cross the road at the lights. ‘They were both obsessed with financial security. They thought that as long as they could pay for us to go to “good” schools and we had everything we wanted they would have done their duty as parents.’
He grinned at me suddenly. ‘We’re an ungrateful generation, aren’t we? My parents did their best, just like yours did. It’s not their fault that we want different things from them. Mine drive me mad, just like your mother does you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love them. The truth is that there’s part of me that still craves their approval. Why else would I be at Gibson & Grieve, getting in Lex’s way?’
‘At least you’re trying,’ I said. ‘My mother would be delighted if I gave up my job to channel angels or dowse for fairy paths. I don’t think she even knows what “career” means.’
We were passing a burger bar just then, and as the smell of barbecued meat wafted out Phin stopped and sniffed appreciatively. ‘Mmm, junk food …!’ His eyes glinted as he looked down at me. ‘Are you still hungry?’
‘What? After all those delicious alfalfa sprouts? How can you even ask?’
We took our burgers away and sat on the steps in front of the National Gallery, looking down over Trafalgar Square. It was a bright February day, and an unseasonal warmth in the air taunted us with the promise of spring.
I was certainly feeling a lot better than I had earlier that morning. I was still a bit fuzzy round the edges but my headache had almost gone. Perhaps my mother’s crystal was working after all.
‘What are you doing?’ Phin demanded as I unwrapped my burger and separated the bun carefully.
‘I don’t like the pickle,’ I said, picking it out with a grimace and looking around for somewhere to dispose of it.
‘Here, give it to me,’ he said with a roll of his eyes, and when I passed it over he shoved it into his own burger and took a huge bite.
‘See—we’re like a real couple already,’ he said through a mouthful.
I wished he hadn’t reminded me of the crazy pretence we’d embarked upon the night before. I couldn’t believe I’d actually agreed to it. I kept waiting for Phin to tell me that it was all a big joke, that he’d just been having me on.
‘Did you really tell Lex that we were going out?’
‘Uh-huh.’ He glanced down at me. ‘I told him that we were madly in love.’
I wanted to look away, but my eyes snagged on his and it was as if all the air had been suddenly sucked out of my lungs. Held by the blueness and the glinting laughter, I could only sit there and stare back at him, feeling giddy and yet centred at the same time.
It was a very strange sensation. I was acutely aware of the coldness of the stone steps, of the breeze in my face and the smell of the burger in my hands.
I did eventually manage to wrench my gaze away, but it was an effort, and I had to concentrate on my breathing as I watched the tourists milling around the square. They held their digital cameras at arm’s length, posing by the great stone lions or squinting up at Nelson on his column. A squabble erupted amongst the pigeons below us, and my eyes followed the red buses heading down Whitehall, but no matter where I looked all I saw was Phin’s image, as if imprinted behind my eyelids: the mobile mouth with its lazy lop-sided smile, the line of his cheek, the angle of his jaw.
When had he become so familiar? When had I learnt exactly how his hair grew? When had I counted the creases at the edges of his eyes?
There was a yawning feeling in the pit of my stomach. Desperately I tried to conjure up Jonathan’s image instead, but it was hopeless.
‘What did Lex say?’ I asked, struggling to sound normal. ‘Did he believe you?’
‘Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he?’
‘You’ve got to admit that we make an unlikely couple.’
‘Your mother doesn’t think so,’ Phin reminded me.
‘My mother believes that fairies dance around the flowers at dawn,’ I pointed out. ‘The word “unlikely” doesn’t occur in her vocabulary.’
‘Well, Lex didn’t seem at all surprised—except maybe that you would fall in love with me.’ Phin crumpled the empty paper in his hand. ‘He seemed to think that you were too sensible to do anything like that. He’s obviously never seen you drinking pomegranate martinis!’
I flushed. If I never touched a martini again, it would be too soon.
‘I would have thought he’d be more surprised that you’d be in love with me,’ I said, finishing my own burger.
Phin shrugged. ‘I’m always falling in and out of love. I suspect he’s more worried that I might hurt you. He knows I’m not the settling down type. When you dump me for Jonathan, he’ll probably be relieved.’
CHAPTER SIX
THE Glitz interview was scheduled for the next day.
Phin lived just off the King’s Road, in one of those houses I have long coveted, with painted brick and colourful doors. That morning, though, I was in no mood to admire the prettiness of the street, or the window boxes filled with early daffodils that adorned the cottages on either side. I was feeling ridiculously nervous as I stood on the steps outside his door—a bright red—and I wasn’t even sure why.
Except that’s not quite true. I did know why. It was because of this crazy pretence we had agreed on. I couldn’t understand how I had let myself get sucked into it. It was utter madness. And it would never work. I should just accept that Jonathan didn’t love me and move on.
But instead I was committed to pretending to be Phin’s girlfriend. It was too late to change my mind. Phin had told Lex that we were madly in love—just imagining a conversation like that with our dour Chief Executive made my mind boggle—and now everybody knew.
Phin had rested his hand against casually against my neck as we’d waited for the lifts on our way back from Trafalgar Square. I knew he was only doing it so that Michaela at Reception would see and pass the word around—she had, and I’d only been back at my desk five minutes when Ellie was on the phone demanding to know what was going on—so there was no reason for my nape to be tingling still, no reason for me to be tense and jittery.
But I was.
Well, I had to get on with it. Drawing a deep breath, I rang the bell.
The door opened as suddenly as a slap, and there was Phin, smiling at me, in faded jeans and a T-shirt. His feet were bare, his hair rumpled, and he was in need of a shave. He looked a mess, in fact, but all at once there wasn’t enough air to breathe and my mouth dried.
I badly wanted to retreat down the steps, but pride kept me at the top. ‘Hi,’ I said, horrified to hear how husky my voice sounded.
‘Hey,’ said Phin, and before I realised what he meant to do he had kissed me on the mouth.
It was only a brief brush of the lips, the casual kind of kiss a man like Phin would bestow a hundred times at a party, but my pulse jolted as if from a massive bolt of electricity. So that’s what it’s like being struck by lightning. I swear every hair on my body stood up.
‘What was that for?’ I asked unsteadily.
‘Just getting into