Read Online Emily: Sex and Sensibility by Sandra Marton - Free Book Online Page B

roll. The long one without seeds and, Cristo, why would he know what it was called?
    The deli clerk who took his call was new—was this a day of new-to-the-job fools? So it was no great surprise that when his lunch arrived, it was the wrong roll, the wrong cheese, and the salad on the side was all wrong.
    He stuffed everything back into the bag it had come in and tossed it into the wastebasket.
    Coffee. At least he could have coffee. His PA always made it and no way would he ask the trembling girl outside his door to do so.
    Marco pushed back his chair and got to his feet. Surely they made coffee in the staff room. The sight of him would probably send everybody scuttling but his mood was going from bad to worse and, frankly, he didn’t give a damn whether they scuttled or not.
    His phone rang. He grabbed for it and snarled, “What?”
    It was the garage, with the first good news of the day. His Ferrari had not been stolen. It had been misplaced.
    “Misplaced?”
    Misplaced. The manager launched into an explanation. Marco cut him short, thanked him, hung up the phone and made a note to find a different garage.
    The phone rang again. “It’s Jane Barnett,” his HR manager said.
    “Mrs. Barnett. Jane. I meant to call.”
    “Actually, I’ve been trying to reach your PA.”
    Marco shuddered. “Yes. So have I. She seems to have disappeared. What of those candidates you were going to interview? How has that worked out? Please tell me you’ve found one who is suitable.”
    “Uh,” Jane said carefully, “well, I may have found one who is just about perfect.”
    The second good news of the day. Marco beamed happily as he sank into his chair.
    “Do you mean it?”
    “She speaks four languages. She’s traveled. She’s bright. I’m sure she can write up reports. Fairly complex ones, I suspect. As I said, she’s just about perfect.”
    Marco wanted to pump his fist in the air but not yet, not yet.
    “Did you explain that she’ll have to be prepared to leave the country tomorrow?”
    A pause. Then, “Uh, not exactly.”
“Because?”
    “Because this isn’t precisely the job she came here to fill.”
    “Didn’t the agency explain the situation to her?”
    “Uh…”
    “What are you telling me, Jane? Is she not interested in the position? Did you explain how well it pays? Seventy-five thousand a year? Health insurance? Vacations? Pension?”
    “Uh, I thought you might want to talk with her yourself, Mr. Santini. See, this is a bit confusing. She was here to interview for one thing and I ended up offering her another.”
    Marco shut his eyes. Good news, but with an edge.
    “Wonderful. I have been dealing with incompetence all morning and now we add the incompetence of a headhunting agency that sends a person to the wrong job. But if this woman is suitable…”
    “I believe she is, sir.”
    “And what about Ms. Madison? Has she called?”
    “Uh…”
    Dio, another “uh”?
    “Never mind. One thing at a time. Send this paragon of efficiency to my office rapidamente. ”
    “That’s why I’m calling, sir. I tried to reach your PA—”
    “My temp,” Marco growled. “God forbid she might ever be anyone’s PA.”
    “Yes, sir. Right. The point is, she didn’t answer. So I called Executive Reception to tell her that, uh, the candidate is on her way.”
    “And?”
    “And, uh, before you meet with her I wanted to explain that, uh—”
    “Jane,” Marco said through his teeth, “if there is something to explain, explain it.”
    “I’m trying to, Mr. Santini, but it’s a little complicated and, uh—”
    It was the final “uh” that broke the camel’s back—that, and the tap on his door that told him his terrified and definitely temporary assistant was about to step into his office.
    Marco swung toward the door as it opened, his patience, what little remained of it, shot to hell.
    “What in the name of God do you want now?” he roared at his PA. Except it wasn’t his PA.
    It was the woman who