The phone beeped, and Stephanie reached for the receiver. “Mr. Lockwood’s office,” she said in a crisp, professional voice, then wrote down the message, promising the caller that Mr. Lockwood would return the call.
While she was writing down the information, Adam Holmes raised his hand in salute and sauntered toward the elevator. Stephanie watched him go. There was a kindness to his features, and the spark in his dark blue eyes assured her that he was far from old.
The phone rang twice more while Stephanie sorted through the mail. She wrote down the messages and put them in a neat stack, waiting for Jonas to be off the line so she could give them to him.
Mimi reappeared dabbing at the corner of her right eye with a tissue. “I made a mess of things, didn’t I?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Stephanie offered the woman a warm smile with her reassurance. “This job was just more than you were used to handling.”
“I’m a good typist.”
“I think you must be.”
“Aunt Bertha said I wouldn’t have any problems for one day.”
“Your aunt seems to have underestimated the demands of her position.”
“I... think she did, too,” Mimi said. “Would it be all right if I went back to the typing pool? I don’t think I’ll be any good around here.”
“That’ll be fine, Mimi. I’ll tell Mr. Lockwood for you.”
At the mention of their employer’s name, Mimi grimaced. “He’s horrible.”
Stephanie watched the young blonde leave, furious with Old Stone Face for having put her niece in such an unenviable position. An hour later, however, Stephanie came to agree with Mimi’s assessment of her employer. He was horrible.
A couple of minutes after Mimi’s departure, Jonas called her into his office. Stephanie took the phone messages and the mail with her.
“Take a letter,” he said without glancing up from the huge rosewood desk.
Stephanie was too stunned by his cool, unemotional tone to react quickly enough to suit him.
“Do you plan to memorize it?” he said, taunting her.
“Of course not...” Stephanie didn’t fluster easily, but already this arrogant, unreasonable man had broken through her cool manner. “If you’ll excuse me a moment, I’ll get a pad and pen.”
“That’s generally recommended.”
No sooner had she reappeared than her employer began dictating his daily correspondence. He barely paused to breathe between letters, obviously expecting her to keep pace with him. When he’d finished, he handed her a pile of financial reports and asked her to type them.
“How soon will you have them ready?” His expressionless blue eyes cut into her. The impatience in his gaze told her that half the day was gone already, and there was business to be done.
“Within the hour,” she replied, knowing she’d have to draw upon every skill she’d learned as a secretary to meet her own deadline.
“Good.” He lowered his gaze in a gesture of dismissal, and Stephanie returned to the other office, disliking him all the more.
Her fingers fairly flew over the keys, her concentration total. Jonas interrupted her three times to ask for files, but Stephanie was determined to meet her own deadline. She’d have those letters ready or die trying.
Precisely an hour later, smiling smugly, she placed the correspondence on his desk. She stepped back, awaiting his response. Meeting the deadline had demanded that she stretch her abilities to their limits and she anticipated some sort of reaction from her employer.
“Yes?” He raised his head and glared at her.
“Your letters.”
“I see that. Are you expecting me to applaud your efforts?”
That was exactly what Stephanie had anticipated. After his derogatory remarks, she felt that her superhuman effort had shot holes in his chauvinistic view of the younger secretary, and she wanted to hear him tell her so.
“Listen, Miss Coulter, I’m paying you a respectable wage. I don’t consider it my duty to pat you on the back when you merely do what you’ve been asked. I have neither the time nor the patience to pander to your fragile ego.”
Stephanie felt her face explode with color. “If you require me to sing your praises every time you complete a task, you can leave right now. I have no use for you. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she managed, furious. This was a rare state for Stephanie, who thought of herself as even-tempered and easygoing. Never had she disliked any man more. He was terrible. An ogre. A beast. She pivoted sharply and marched into the reception area, so angry she had to take in deep breaths to control her irritation.
Rolling out her chair, she sat down and took a moment to regain her composure.
She hadn’t been back at her desk more than fifteen minutes when the intercom beeped. For one irrational instant she toyed with the idea of ignoring him, then decided against it.
“Yes,” she said in her most businesslike tone. “Take lunch, Miss Coulter. But be back here within the hour. I don’t tolerate tardiness.”