The Bedroom Assignment

There were no speakers in the garden, at least. Between the incessant beat and the noise of the party it was not exactly silent, but at least you could hear what people were saying. Not that most people came out here to talk. There were several couples, dancing or lying on the grass, heads close, not talking.

Out in the dark, where no one could see, Zoe flinched. Performance Zoe took her to task. So what else is new? No point in minding. That’s what people do at parties.

She even did it herself sometimes. Only she just did it for the look of the thing. Then sidled out later, when she could. Not that anyone noticed her sidling out. If anyone were to suggest that popular Zoe Brown had never gone beyond a kiss in the dark, her friends would split their sides.

She did not want them splitting their sides tonight. Not in front of the Mogul Prince. Performance Zoe took control.

‘’Scuse me,’ said Zoe, shimmying past a couple gazing fixedly into each other’s eyes and shifting from foot to foot in a rhythm that was at least three tracks ago.

She made for the orchard terrace, pounding up the uneven York stone steps with the sure-footedness of long practice. The others followed.

Zoe turned, hands on her hips, ready for confrontation.

The smooth-as-a-seal man was already on to it, though. He had obviously decided to stop being bored. Suze was beginning to look alarmed.

Suze’s father was a judge. Nobody ever alarmed Suze.

The man said with dangerous quietness, ‘Want to explain, Susan?’

Well, it sounded dangerous to Zoe. In fact the hair came up on the back of her neck at the deep drawl.

‘Er…’ said Suze, floundering.

She never floundered, either. She was as quick on her feet as Zoe. In fact Zoe had learned her ‘Evasive Manoeuvres For When the Conversation Gets out of Hand’ from Suze in the first place. And Zoe was the best.

‘I’ve been conned, haven’t I?’ said the tall dark man in a level voice. ‘I want a professional job. And you think you can unload one of your ditzy friends.’ His eyes skimmed Zoe briefly. ‘No offence.’

‘Ditzy friend?’ she gasped.

Suze sent her an exasperated look before returning to her main opponent. ‘Chill out, Jay. I’m doing my best—’

‘I need someone to work,’ he said intensely. ‘Not a filing clerk in a micro skirt.’

‘Zoe can hack it.’ Suze waved a hand. ‘Zoe can do anything.’

The man swung round on Zoe and she swallowed hard. In the flickering light of the summer candles he looked about ten feet tall.

Ten feet tall and mad as a hornet was not the ideal prospective employer. Thank you, Suze.

She said furiously, ‘I never agreed—’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Nor did I. A research assistant able to work on her own initiative?’ he asked pleasantly, not taking his eyes off Zoe. ‘I don’t think so.’

Zoe stiffened. ‘I beg—your—pardon?’

‘I know what she can do,’ snapped Suze. ‘Zoe and I used to go to school together.’

His eyes were unreadable in the dark, but his whole stance said he didn’t believe a word of it.

‘Oh, yes? And when did St Bluestocking’s start turning out unskilled filing clerks?’

Zoe flinched all over again.

Plenty of people thought she was wasting her university education by doing temporary jobs in a variety of offices. Only last week her father had taken her out to lunch and tried to probe, delicately, when she was going to get a real job. But no one had actually told her to her face that she was unskilled. Or implied that she was a thing of no worth because of it.

She forgot the passionate mouth and the mogul silk. She decided he was all ten feet tall hornet man. And she hated him.

She said clearly, ‘I’m temping while I consider my options.’

It was true, too. Only—she had been considering her options for two years now and was no nearer finding a solution. She was not going to admit that to hornet man, though.

He looked her up and down. She could not see his face but she could feel the hard, swift appraisal. He took a couple of step towards her, lithe as a panther padding around its prey, assessing whether it was worth the effort of the chase or not.

Not that he could see much in the candlelit dark. Maybe her long, soft hair as it waved loosely about her shoulders in the night breeze. Or the glittery black see-through stuff of the shirt that left her shoulders visible and her slim midriff exposed. Enough to realise that she looked as cool as Suze, anyway.