“Older, more mature women approach the office with businesslike attitudes, and are far less emotional.”
That had to be one of the most unfair cracks Stephanie had ever heard. She bristled involuntarily. “If you’ll excuse me for interrupting, I’d like to point out to Mr. Lockwood that a qualified secretary is able to adapt to any given situation. I sincerely doubt that age has anything to do with it.”
His sharp eyes blazed over her face. “Who are you?”
“Stephanie Coulter.”
“Miss Coulter is Mr. Potter’s secretary—”
“Do you always speak out of turn?” He eyed her with open disapproval.
“Only when the occasion calls for it.”
“Can you type?”
“One hundred words a minute.”
“Shorthand?”
“Yes.”
“Follow me.”
“But, Mr. Lockwood...” Stephanie felt like a tongue-tied idiot for having spoken out of turn.
“Apparently Ms. Coulter is willing to prove just how qualified she is. She can work for me today. What you tell Potter is no concern of mine.” He turned abruptly, obviously expecting Stephanie to trot after him obediently.
Stephanie’s gaze clashed with her friend’s. “I guess that answers that.”
Grinning, Jan pointed in the direction of the elevator. “Good luck.”
Stephanie had the distinct feeling she was going to need it.
Walking briskly down the wide corridor, she arrived just as the elevator door parted. She stepped inside, holding herself stiffly.
Jonas Lockwood moved forward and pushed the appropriate button, then stepped back. Stephanie noted that he leaned heavily on the cane. She had trouble remembering the last time she’d seen him use one. More often than not, he walked without it.
The elevator rode silently to the top floor, and the door swished open to reveal a huge open area. His office took up the entire top floor. Half of the area was taken up by an immense reception area with a circular desk in the center.
“This way,” he said, giving her a derisive look.
Speechless, Stephanie followed him, awestruck by the plush furniture in the gigantic office. The view of Minneapolis was spectacular, but Stephanie didn’t dare stop to appreciate it. Mimi Palmer sat at the large circular desk, sniffling. Her blond hair bounced against the tops of her shoulders as her head bobbed up and down in an effort to curtail her tears. Another man Stephanie didn’t recognize was pacing the area near the desk. He glanced up when Jonas and Stephanie approached, and frowned. The man was ruggedly built and of medium height. Stephanie guessed his age to be around forty-five, perhaps a bit older.
“Jonas, I’m sure the young lady didn’t mean any harm.” The other man spoke for the first time.
Jonas disregarded the man as effectively as he’d ignored Stephanie only moments before. He stepped in front of the crying Mimi and shot a poisonous glance in her direction. “She may have ruined six months of negotiations with her incompetence.”
“I’m sorry, s-so sorry,” Mimi cried. “I didn’t know.”
“Not only does she keep an important call on hold for fifteen minutes while she makes a pot of coffee, she insults the company president by asking stupid questions, and then can’t locate the file.”
Mimi covered her face with her hands and released a high-pitched cry. “I was only trying to help.”
Jonas snorted, and Mimi let out another wail.
Stephanie moved forward. “Mimi, stop crying. You’re not doing anyone any good. Unless you can help here, I’d suggest you go to the ladies’ room and compose yourself.” She turned to Jonas. “Tell me the name on the file, and I’ll see if I can locate it.”
“Phinney.”
“I doubt Ms. Palmer lost it. Under pressure, she might have had trouble spelling it.” The filing-cabinet drawer shot open as Stephanie located the Ph’s and sorted through the neatly organized drawer. Within seconds she located it, pulled it free and handed it to Jonas. “If you’d like, I can phone back and explain. I’ll come up with some excuse.”
“I’ll do it,” he barked.
“Fine.”
“Now what can I do for you?” She directed her question at the middle-aged man who stood in the center of the room with his mouth hanging open.
“I’m Adam Holmes.”
“Mr. Holmes,” Stephanie acknowledged briskly. “As I’m sure Mr. Lockwood explained, his secretary is ill for the day, but if I can help you, I’d be most pleased to do so.”
He opened his leather briefcase. “I’m here to drop off a few papers for Jonas to read over.”
Stephanie took them from his outstretched hand. “I’ll see to it that Mr. Lockwood receives these.”
“I don’t doubt you for an instant,” he said with a low chuckle. ‘ ‘Tell Jonas to contact me at my office if he has any questions.”
“I’ll do that.”