The Baby Verdict (2 page)

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Authors: Cathy Williams

BOOK: The Baby Verdict
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Outbursts of emotions were not something that she was accustomed to dealing with. From a young age, as she had stood on the sidelines and watched the antics of her father and the misery of her long-suffering mother, she had learned to control her emotions, to keep them under lock and key.
‘Are you telling me that he's ill?' she asked tightly, worry in her voice.
‘Stomach ulcer. He's on medication for it and has been for a while, but he's now been told that he needs to have a sabbatical. At least six months away from the stress of a work environment.'
‘How dreadful. I wish he'd said something to me. I would have relieved him of far more of his workload.' She thought of her boss—tall, grey-haired, kindly, always encouraging her and never backward in his praise when she'd done a good job at something—and felt a stab of guilt.
Bruno was right.
Why
hadn't she put two and two together and worked out that he was not well?
‘It's unfortunate,' Bruno said, watching her face and reading her reaction, ‘but it's not terminal.'
‘I'm afraid I don't know a great deal about stomach ulcers...'
‘I gathered that from the expression on your face.' He raked his fingers through his hair, and she watched, half mesmerised by this simple gesture.
‘I've told him,' Bruno said, ‘that the sooner he leaves the better. There's no point jeopardising his health for the sake of a job. Which,' he continued slowly, ‘brings me to you, and the reason I'm here.'
‘Right. Of course.' She was still dazedly thinking of all the signs she had missed over the past few months.
‘You're Robert's second in command. I gather that you're good at your job.'
What did he expect her to say to that? ‘I do my best.'
‘I've read your CV. For someone who's so young, you appear to have excelled in your previous job, and in your law exams.'
Appear to have excelled?
What was he trying to tell her? That he doubted what was in front of him?
‘Why didn't you go down the line of barrister?' he asked, not looking at her, still flicking through the sheets of paper in front of him.
‘I thought about it,' Jessica said, still smarting from his tone of voice. ‘In the end, I decided that working within a company would give me more of a sense of stability and fulfilment Of course, I still have friends in the field of criminal law and I try and go to as many court cases as I can.'
‘As a hobby?' He glanced up at her, his eyes unreadable, and she wondered whether there was an element of sarcasm there.
‘It's as useful a
hobby
as any I can think of,' she said a little sharply.
‘Useful...if a little solitary.'
‘Which is no bad thing, as far as I am concerned.'
He looked at her fully then, not saying anything for such a long time that she began to feel uncomfortable. Then he pushed himself away from the desk and stood up, his hands in his pockets, and began pacing the room, finally ending up by the window, where he remained standing, resting back against the ledge.
He was even taller than she had originally thought, and his body had a toned leanness to it that reminded her of something dangerous and unpredictable. Some kind of predatory jungle animal. Or perhaps, she thought, aware that she shouldn't stare and therefore carefully averting her eyes to a point slightly to the side of him, that was simply the overall impression he emanated.
‘You'll have to cover for Robert during his absence,' he said, looking at her, his blue eyes calculating. ‘Naturally, you'll be financially compensated.'
‘That won't be a problem.' She could hardly carry on talking to the upper-left angle of the window, so she looked him fully in the face, and felt that disturbing awareness again.
Whatever was wrong with her? She didn't even care for the man! He was about as jovial as a barracuda. Not the sort of man she went for at all. Her boyfriends, short-lived though they tended to be, were all fashioned in the same mould: easygoing, considerate, occasionally a little dull. But men she could handle.
She had seen firsthand how debilitating it could be to live a life over which you exercised no control. She had watched her mother wither over the years as she had endured her husband's brutal infidelities, tied to the house because she had been told repeatedly that she was incapable of doing anything on her own.
Jessica had fashioned her escape from that stifling atmosphere with the precision of a military campaign. While her teenaged friends had spent their days swooning over boys and experimenting with make-up, she had buried her head in her books, working with the single-minded passion of someone who needed to furiously dig a tunnel before they could see the outside world.
She had no intention of ever handing over control of her life to someone else. She had studied hard, worked hard and every step of her career had been built on determination and lessons learnt in the past.
‘I already work very closely with Robert, anyway,' she said, snapping back to the present and focusing on the man standing in front of her. ‘I know most of his client base. The rest I can familiarise myself with easily enough.' A temporary promotion. She breathed a little sigh of relief. And to think that she had hovered uncertainly by that office door, convinced that she was about to be handed her walking cards.
‘Will that be all?' she asked, standing up. She smiled and extended her hand.
‘No.'
‘I beg your pardon?'
‘No, that will not be all, so you might as well sit back down.'
A man accustomed to giving orders. A man who bypassed the polite preliminaries of conversation that most people took for granted.
She withdrew her hand, feeling a bit idiotic, and sat back down.
‘You don't think that I travelled out here merely to inform you that you've got a promotion, do you?' His voice was cool and amused, and it was an effort for her to continue looking at him without dislike.
‘I know,' she said, ‘that was silly of me, wasn't it?'
He frowned, and she struggled to contain a sudden urge to grin.
‘Do I hear a little edge of sarcasm there?' he asked mildly.
‘Of course not!' Her brown eyes were innocently shocked at such a suggestion. ‘I wouldn't dare!'
‘You haven't asked when Robert is due to leave.' He returned to the chair behind the desk, sat back down and then pushed it away so that he could cross his legs, ankle on knee.
‘I assumed...' What had she assumed? ‘I guessed that it would be in a couple of months' time...?'
‘At the end of the week.'
‘The end of the week!' Jessica looked at him, startled. ‘The end of
this
week? But how? Why hasn't he said anything to me? Surely he'll need longer than four days to tie up loose ends...'
‘Are you beginning to regret your optimism in filling in for him?'
‘I'm just expressing surprise at the suddenness of it all,' she told him coldly. ‘I'm also a little bit taken aback that he didn't see fit to inform me before this.'
‘You have me to thank for that,' he said bluntly. ‘This development happened overnight, literally, and I told him that it would be better for me to talk to you. In fact, it was essential that I did.' He paused, as though contemplating what to say next. ‘His mother lives in America and two days ago she suffered a stroke. I told him that it made sense for him to combine his leave with a visit out there to see her. He'll speak to you about this when he gets in this afternoon, then he'll call a staff meeting some time tomorrow.'
‘I see.'
‘The reason I made a point of coming out here to tell you all this yourself—'
‘When you almost certainly would have had better things to do,' Jessica muttered to herself,
‘Sorry? I missed that.' He leaned forward slightly, and she flashed him a brilliant smile.
‘Nothing important. Just thinking aloud.'
‘This sudden development comes at a rather inconvenient time.'
‘Inconvenient for whom?' she asked.
‘I'll ignore that question,' Bruno told her, narrowing his eyes. ‘It borders on impertinence.'
Which it did. She felt colour steal into her cheeks. Had she forgotten that this man was her boss? Had she forgotten that she should toe the line and not risk her career for the sake of emotion?
‘I'm sorry,' she said honestly. ‘I suppose I'm just shocked and worried about Robert. It's been sprung on me out of the blue.'
What a limp lettuce of an excuse, she thought. She could feel his shrewd eyes on her, assessing, and she waited for him to inform her that sarcasm was not something he would tolerate. Sarcasm, she suspected, was not something he had probably ever had to deal with.
He chose to disregard what she had said, though.
‘Two days ago,' he said instead, ‘I received this.' He withdrew a letter from his jacket pocket and shoved it across the desk to her, then he sat back and watched while she opened it and read the contents several times over.
Bruno Carr was being sued. Personally. A component for a car, manufactured by one of his plants, had resulted in a near-fatal car crash.
‘This,' he explained softly, ‘is why I thought it important to come and see you myself.'
Jessica looked up briefly before re-reading the official letter. ‘To see if you considered me capable of dealing with this...'
‘That's right. And you're not what I expected.'
‘Is that why you expressed concern about my age, Mr Carr?' She carefully placed the sheet of paper on the desk in front of her and sat back, with her fingers linked on her lap.
A legal issue was something she could deal with. The personal confrontation with Bruno Carr had brought out feelings in her she hadn't even known existed, at least not for a very long time. But this. She took her time considering him.
‘You think that because I'm relatively young I'm incapable of doing a good job.'
‘You lack experience,' he said flatly. ‘You are also a woman.'
‘Perhaps I could address those concerns of yours one at a time?' When she smiled, her jaw ached because of the effort, and her fingers were itching to hurl something very heavy at him. Precisely what century was this man living in?
‘Firstly, age has nothing to do with competence. I can't deny that I haven't got three decades' worth of experience behind me, but then I can assure you that I am more than capable of dealing with this lawsuit.' The only way to deal with Bruno Carr, she decided, was not to be cowed by him. He would smell out any hint of uncertainty from her with the unerring precision of a shark smelling blood, and he would promptly take his lawsuit somewhere else. Careerwise, it would be death for her.
‘Of course, I shall need immediate and unrestricted access to any information, technical or otherwise, that I consider necessary...'
He nodded fractionally, and continued to look at her, waiting for her to say her piece, upon which he would deliver his verdict.
‘Fine. Now, secondly, yes, I am a woman.' Camouflaged as it was by her genderless working garb. In a man's world, frilly dresses were off limits—not that she had ever been one for frilly dresses anyway. A suit told the world precisely what she wanted it to know, which was that she was to be taken seriously. Even outside the working environment, she steered clear of frocks and short skirts, preferring jeans and clothes that were tailored and smart rather than provocative. It was only when she stripped at night that she saw the reflection of her own body in the mirror—tall, slender, but with full breasts and long legs. A good figure, she knew. It was as well to conceal it.
‘However,' she continued, ‘women comprise a high percentage of the working arena these days, in case you hadn't noticed. I'm sure if you cast your eyes around you'll discover that there are quite a few spread throughout your various companies.'
‘Ah, but none of them is poised to defend my name in a lawsuit, are they?' he pointed out smoothly.
‘And why do you think that a man might be more competent at the job than a woman?' she asked, changing tactic. She fixed him a cool, implacable stare, one of her specialities when it came to withering any member of the opposite sex who might be overstepping her boundaries. He stared back at her, unperturbed.
‘Because women are prone to outbursts of hysteria when the going gets too tough, and I, frankly, don't think that that will do at all in this instance.'
Oh, good grief, Jessica thought to herself.
Was she really hearing this?
‘Outbursts of hysteria?' she asked politely, with her head tilted to one side. ‘When the going gets tough?' She laughed dryly. ‘Possibly with the women you tend to associate with, but I can assure you that there's a whole army of them out there who don't react in any such way when faced with a challenge.' She paused, and added for good measure, ‘And by challenge I don't mean colour co-ordinating our clothes or debating what shade of nail polish we should wear on our next date.'

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