A Grand Illusion Read online

  'But he didn't. Lots of babies have black hair and cleft chins, not just the Drummond family. Besides, it wasn't my fault he brought me home. Andrew Lawford couldn't make it. He asked Royce to meet me instead. I was just as surprised as you.' Meg pouted prettily. 'We had dinner and talked over old times. Royce is really handsome, isn't he? I never realised it before. I always thought he was so much older than Peter, but thirty-three isn't all that old, is it? Pretty soon I'll be twenty. And did you know Peter's getting a divorce?'

  Jenna threw up her hands in exasperation. 'Meg, don't you have any sense? Can't you understand how serious this is? If you start entertaining thoughts of Peter Drummond again or his brother, what's it going to mean to your son?'

  'I knew I never should have had that baby,' Meg wailed. 'There's been nothing but trouble ever since he was born. I never should have let you talk me into keeping him. He's not my son! He's yours. You even said so. You wanted him, not me. As soon as I can, I'm getting away from here. I'm going to be a famous model and be rich and have a string of wealthy husbands—'

  'Oh, go to bed!' Jenna shouted. 'You make me sick!'

  She was late for work the next day. Chad Redwicke was standing by the time clock in the hallway outside the typing pool and got the full blast of her icy stare.

  'Mr Farnsworth's been looking for you, Iceberg,' he said with a sneer. 'You've kept him waiting nearly half an hour now. Don't be surprised if he gives you the sack. He's been asking some pretty personal questions about you lately.'

  Jenna didn't stop to worry about his spiteful speculations but quickly ran the length of the corridor to the executive offices and knocked softly on the door before going in.

  'Mr Farnsworth was wondering why you were keeping him waiting, Jenna,' his pretty young secretary said with a slight frown. 'It's not at all like you to be so late for work. Go right in.'

  Without giving herself a chance to be frightened of this summons, she pushed open the door and noiselessly walked toward the massive leather-topped desk. 'Mr Farnsworth?'

  'Ah, Miss Caldwell. Come in, come in, my dear. Take off your coat and sit down.'

  He was a tall thickset man with pure white hair and a beaming smile. It was the first time Jenna had ever seen him, although she had heard about him often enough and his signature was on all her pay-cheques.

  He waved to a brown leather chair in front of his desk. 'I've heard some very good things about you. Thank you for coming.'

  She hated the betraying colour that rose to her face, but she didn't say anything. Her hands began to twist nervously in her lap as Mr Farnsworth continued to look at her. Forcing herself to at least look relaxed, Jenna leaned back in her seat and looked straight into his assessing eyes. If he was waiting for an explanation for her tardiness, he was going to be disappointed. How could she tell him she had been up the entire night with a sick baby? There was nothing she could say to him that wouldn't involve long explanations of her complicated home life, and so far she had kept home and work separated. It was going to stay that way.

  'A very unusual girl,' he murmured. 'And I've heard you can keep a secret. Can you, Miss Caldwell?'

  She blinked, frowning. 'I've never really thought much about it.'

  'Ah.' He smiled with evident satisfaction and leaned forward in his chair. 'I have a secret for you. I'm retiring—and so is my secretary.'

  Jenna forced a small smile to her bewildered face, wondering why he was telling her.

  'We're getting married.'

  'Oh!' Her face fell, but she recovered herself instantly. It was none of her business if he was going to marry a woman thirty years his junior. 'Why, congratulations—to both of you. I wish you every happiness.'

  'Thank you, my dear.' He rubbed his hands together and nodded. 'You'll do very nicely, very nicely indeed!'

  Jenna sat helplessly, looking at him in silence, wondering where all this was leading.

  'You might have heard the rumours, that this company is being absorbed by another advertising agency?'

  She nodded.

  'Within a week you'll have a new boss—and I've chosen you to be his executive secretary. With a very substantial raise in pay, of course.'

  'Me? But why?' She was shocked and her mouth started to fall open, but she caught it just in time and snapped it shut.

  Mr Farnsworth smiled complacently. 'You just passed the test.'

  Her eyebrows rose.

  'Yes, my dear. You kept me waiting, but the minute you came in here you didn't start explaining and apologising all over the place. And you don't have to think about keeping a secret—it comes naturally. And even though I shocked you with my announcement, you had the presence of mind to congratulate me and wish me happiness. You're a woman of few words. I like that—very much. And so will your new boss. I've heard he can't abide frivolous women. That's why I had to be very careful in my selection of a secretary for him. I was told to find a paragon.'

  Jenna let out her breath slowly, not realising she had been holding it. 'Then you've chosen the wrong person, Mr Farnsworth. I don't consider myself able to meet such a standard of excellence.'

  'You're merely expected to do your job to the best of your very considerable ability, my dear. I've seen your work and I've watched you when you weren't aware of it. I've talked to your co-workers, and nobody seems to know anything about you. You're very wise, keeping your own counsel. Not many young women these days can do that. Let's see, this is Friday. On Monday morning you're to report to my secretary. She'll show you the ropes, so to speak.' He chuckled to himself. 'She used those ropes to tie me to her side very neatly!'

  A reluctant smile crossed her face and he beamed at her. 'You have a sense of humour too, I see. A pity you don't use it more. I'm afraid you'll be called on to use it often after next Friday.'

  'Is the job that difficult?'

  'The job, no. The boss, yes. Royce Drummond runs a tight ship.'

  'Royce Drummond!' gasped Jenna.

  'Do you know him?'

  It was a good thing Jenna was sitting down, because she might have fallen over in shock. 'I've met him,' she said in a choking whisper.

  'Wonderful. Then I don't have to feel quite so guilty feeding you to the lions.'

  And that was just what he'd be doing, she realised. 'Mr Farnsworth, I'm sorry, but I can't possibly take this job,' she told him.

  'Of course you can.' He waved away her objections with a wide smile. 'You're extremely well qualified.'

  Her teeth mangled her bottom lip as she sat looking at him. All kinds of conflicting thoughts chased through her mind, throwing her into confusion, but one thought became uppermost, and that was the realisation that she'd have to find a new job within a week. There was no way she could continue working in the same building as Royce Drummond, let alone become his secretary and work in the same office!

  'Before you tell me no again,' he beamed, 'let me point out to you that you were hand-picked from a field of five prospective employees. Your typing and short hand are top-notch, as theirs is. You're clean and neat and punctual, as they are. But the thing that tipped the scales so heavily in your favour is the fact that you don't rush to leave the building at quitting time. That's very rare. You have every qualification I was told to find.'

  'You're very flattering, sir, and I do thank you, but I really can't—'

  He held up his hands to stop her. 'I've probably caught you off guard. Please, take this weekend to think about it. Think very carefully what this promotion will mean in terms of advancement as well as money. And remember, an opportunity like this may never again come your way. We'll talk again on Monday morning.' His smile was wide and complacent as he walked her to the door, patting her shoulder gently.

  When she returned to the typing pool all the other girls were agog with curiosity, but Jenna didn't satisfy it. She quickly buried herself in her work and tried to push the whole conversation out of her mind until she could find the time to devise a plan. The only thing certain was that she couldn't wor
k here any longer. It was too dangerous. If he ever saw Robbie…

  The afternoon flew and when she got home that night she didn't have to look for something to take her mind off Mr Farnsworth's impossible offer. Robbie was definitely ill and she had no time to think of anything else.

  'Meg, why didn't you ring me this afternoon?' she said accusingly, sponging Robbie's hot, flushed body and trying to calm his sobs. 'If you didn't want to take him to a doctor yourself, I'd have come home and done it.'

  'You don't get paid for the time you take off,' she shrugged. 'You had to spend a lot of money on all that special formula for him last week, and I wasn't about to have you take time off and then say we couldn't afford that skirt and sweater you promised me this week.'

  Jenna gritted her teeth and eyed the pink cashmere dress draping Meg's supple figure. It was relatively new, having been bought three months ago when she had regained her pre-natal measurements. Jenna hadn't had anything new for the last year and a half, but she swallowed back the tightness in her throat and put Robbie back in his cot. 'You'll have the money for the clothes, Meg,' she said quietly. 'I'll see if I can get a doctor to come out to the house, or I may have to take him to the Emergency Room at the hospital.'

  'It's probably not that bad.' Meg peered into the mirror and blotted her lipstick. 'You told me yourself it's probably just teething pains.'

  'It's got to be more than that. I just know it. He's wheezing and his fever's so high he's starting to dehydrate.'

  'He had some water this afternoon, but he didn't want any of the formula, so I thought you'd give it to him when you came home.'

  Jenna nodded and phoned the doctor. By the time she had finished her call, Meg was standing by the door with her coat on.

  Before she could say anything, Meg rushed into an explanation. 'I'm going out with Royce tonight—and don't tell me I can't! You don't have to worry about him coming in, though. You were successful in freezing him out last night, and he doesn't want to risk running into you again.' And then she was gone, as a car horn sounded in the street.

  Grimacing to herself, Jenna walked back to Robbie's room and didn't waste her energy wishing Meg could be different. Meg was Meg. She had always been self-centred. It shouldn't make her heart twist so painfully each time she realised this baby meant absolutely nothing to her. She had gambled on motherly instinct and lost. It was just something she'd have to accept.

  Within the hour a doctor came. He was middle-aged and plump with keen dark eyes and a crisp comforting manner. His examination was thorough, and when he snapped his black bag shut, his expression was serious.

  'Is there a history of asthma in your family?'

  Jenna shook her head, frowning. 'Not that I can recall. My parents both died in a boating accident last year, but before that they were always in good health.'

  'What about the baby's father?'

  She looked at him blankly. She had never met Peter, and Meg had never really told her anything about him except that he was married and that he was interested in archaeology.

  'You do know who the father is?' he prodded.

  Brilliant colour ran into her face as she bit back the explanation that she wasn't Robbie's mother. 'Yes, I do. But I don't know if there's any asthma in his family and there's no way I can contact him to find out.'

  He sighed. 'Then for now I'll diagnose it as a severe case of bronchitis. I'll give you some antibiotics and check him again tomorrow.'

  'Do you think he should go to hospital?' she asked.

  'Not yet. Let's see how he responds to a change of formula as well as this medication, hm?'

  Several hours later, when Robbie had finally drifted off to sleep, Jenna sat at the kitchen table with a pencil and paper, dividing her pay-cheque into small amounts, trying to make it stretch far enough to cover the new soybean milk formula for Robbie and the cost of a new skirt and sweater for Meg.

  If she got up earlier and walked to work as well as home again instead of taking the bus, it would save a little. She crossed that off her list. If the electricity company was at all understanding, they might let her take an extra week to pay this month's bill without a penalty. The rent was already a month overdue and the landlady was beginning to make grumbling noises every time she saw her in the hallway so she couldn't put that off any longer. Try as she might, there was no way to make ends meet.

  There is a way, a small insistent voice nagged at her.

  No, she argued with herself. The risk is too great. I can't take a chance on losing Robbie.

  But you've been able to keep home and work separate so far, the more daring part of her mind persisted. And it's obvious you're not Royce Drummond's type, so you don't have to worry about him getting personal. Why not try it? You can always quit if you see it isn't going to work out. You won't know if you don't try.

  We do need the money, her practical side conceded. And Robbie could have all those extra little things I haven't been able to get for him.

  A troubled smile crossed her strained white face. Royce Drummond asked for a paragon, did he? Wait till he sees who it is!

  She pushed the small pile of money aside, clearing a space, and dropped her head on her arms, promptly falling into an exhausted sleep.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The next week flew by. Robbie responded to the medication and began sleeping better at night, allowing Jenna to catch up on her much-needed rest. Before she knew it, Mr Farnsworth and his secretary had departed, leaving her installed in the wide, plush executive office, waiting for the imminent arrival of her new boss.

  She had put on her best suit, a rarely worn navy blue that she kept for special occasions. The skirt was pencil-slim and the blazer neat and businesslike. Her only concession to blatant femininity was a filmy, high-necked white lace blouse that made her feel fragile and helpless. Her hair was drawn back in a no-nonsense knot at the top of her head, but several long brown wisps were beginning to unravel and she knew she wouldn't have time to step into the washroom and spray them with hairspray to make them behave. Oh well, she sighed, Meg was the beauty of the family.

  'Is staring out the window a normal part of your morning routine, Miss—?'

  Jenna jerked around and stiffened under the piercing stare of her new employer.

  'You!' Royce Drummond's face was a study in astonishment. The pupils of his eyes dilated so much that only tiny silver rings at the edges were visible. He stood tall and still in the doorway, facing her squarely, his dark trenchcoat slung over one shoulder and his briefcase in his other hand. 'You're the paragon I was told about?' he demanded with shocked disbelief.

  'I was asked to be your secretary, Mr Drummond. If you want someone else, I'll be happy to leave.' She stood quite still and waited for him to dismiss her, hoping she could maintain an air of cool confidence while making a dignified exit.

  Deep down she knew it wouldn't work out. All her niggling doubts became more intense now as she looked at him standing here in front of her, his unconscious arrogance charging the very air between them. She had thought she could be so controlled, so detached, so very much in command. I knew better, but I had to try it, she berated herself.

  His sudden laugh was loud, jarring and entirely without mirth. 'You were handpicked from the entire staff. Far be it from me to dispute Albert Farnsworth's choice of woman. Come to my office, Mrs Paragon.'

  'The name is Miss Jennifer Caldwell, sir, or just plain Jenna.'

  One thick black eyebrow quirked. 'Surely it's Mrs?'

  'I'm not married.' As she lifted her chin, her face was cold and hard and full of dignity, her eyes sparkling blue fire as she challenged him with a look.

  His eyes raked her body mercilessly. 'Are you so liberated it doesn't bother you to flaunt the fact that you're an unmarried mother?'

  In spite of his insolent scrutiny, she dredged up an amazing poise. 'No, sir, I don't flaunt anything. No one here knows anything about my private life. You're the only one who knows I have a son, aside from my sister. It if
becomes a source of gossip for the office, I'll know exactly where it started and I'll be forced to leave.'

  'Heaven forbid that I be the one to drag you off your pedestal, Paragon. Your secret's safe with me.' His lips twisted as he stepped to his office and hung his coat on a walnut coat tree. Then he sat behind his desk and flicked open his briefcase, getting down to business. 'I want you to call a meeting of all the department heads for ten o'clock this morning and I want a detailed financial report of all expenditures for the last quarter. It's to be an informal meeting, but I want you there to take notes. Any questions?'

  'Only one, sir.' She looked at him steadily, trying to remain unruffled by his brusque manner as he impatiently riffled through his desk drawers. 'About your phone calls.'

  A grimace crossed his face. 'I suppose there've been some already?'

  'Yes, sir. A Margo St John called three times and an Eva Travers twice.'

  He leaned back in his chair with a trace of negligent amusement, studying the vivid stain of red creeping into her cheeks. 'What did they have to say? From the looks of you, it must have been good.'

  'It was difficult to convince Miss St John that you weren't trying to avoid her. She gave me a detailed account of her prowess in bed and asked if I thought it was enough to keep you interested in her.'

  He chuckled softly. 'And what did you say?'

  'That I had no idea what you preferred and I would return her call when you got in. Shall I get her on the line for you now?' Jenna knew she was red with embarrassment and it galled her that she couldn't keep her face as expressionless as her voice.

  His laugh was short before he raked an impatient hand through his hair and stared at her with his opaque, all-seeing eyes that held her and looked deep inside her.

  She tried not to stare back, but she couldn't not look at him. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. How could she have forgotten?

  'Send Margo a dozen roses and make reservations for dinner at nine tonight at the Lighthouse,' he said so softly she shivered. 'Do the same for Eva Travers tomorrow.'