coincidentally operate in this general area. Iâm pretty busy for the rest of the day, but I can always pop over to your house some time after worââ
âNo!â Vicky heard the panic in her voice with alarm. The important thing was to lull any suspicions he might have of her to sleep, not stoke them into a frenzy by overreacting to obvious situations. âI mean, I have veryâ¦very definite views on business and pleasure.â
âDoes that mean that you shed your working personality the minute you walk out of the office building?â He stared at her narrowly, head cocked insolently to one side, as though conjuring up a mental picture. âIntriguing. As the office doors swing shut behind you, do you wrench the clips out of your hair and hitch up your neat, little tailored skirt?â
âOf course I donât,â Vicky said coolly. âI just think that itâs important to separate leisure time from work time, or else the two begin flowing into one another and somewhere down the road you realise that thereâs no part of your life that isnât free from work.â Neat, little tailored skirt? How could four small words be invested with such a derogatory meaning? He made her sound like an old age pensioner and, without thinking, she let her fingers flutter to the top button of her shirt, firmly done up, protecting her from unwanted attention. She had never been like this. There had been a time, not that long ago, when sheâd used to wear short skirts and pretty, attractive tops, but that had been before she had learnt that prudery was the only defence against Shaunâs lecherous hands. The sight of her primly buttoned up had sometimes been enough to deter him from invading her body and she had grown accustomed to the way of dressing until now, she realised with a start, most of her clothes conformed to the prissy, unadventurous image she had meticulously cultivated over time.
âBut is it such a good idea to compartmentalise your life? Donât you find that a little unhealthy?â Heâd pushed his chair a little way away from hers to enable him to scrutinise her face, which was now going a deep shade of pink. It occurred to her that they had successfully managed to veer away from the point of their conversation, which was namely to brief her on office business, and she struggled to find a way of bringing it back to the matter in hand. While she was busy grappling with the problem, he filled the brief silence with his sudden interest in her private life.
âReminds me of a split personality,â he said thoughtfully, and she felt her hackles rise at the insinuation.
âI assure you Iâm perfectly normal ,â Vicky informed himin a voice that suggested closure of the topic. She meaningfully peered at the file in front of her, even fetching out a piece of paper to stare at it with frowning concentration, though her eyes werenât registering much of what was written there.
âI never implied that you werenât!â he protested in an offended voice. âI just think that itâs perfectly natural for work to spill over sometimes into leisure.â
âWell, perhaps youâre right,â Vicky said with a shrug. âAre you contactable when youâre in London or would you rather problems waited until you returned here?â
âYou can e-mail me any time, or telephone, of course, although Iâm not often in the office.â He allowed an acceptable period of silence to stretch between them, then he said in a considering tone, âDo you know, itâs been my experience that women who are fanatically guarded about their private life usually have something to hideâ¦?â
He had unknowingly hit jackpot. He could sense it in the stillness of her body, which only lasted a matter of seconds but was enough to tell an entire story of its own.
âI have nothing to hide,â she informed him icily,
âNo!â Vicky heard the panic in her voice with alarm. The important thing was to lull any suspicions he might have of her to sleep, not stoke them into a frenzy by overreacting to obvious situations. âI mean, I have veryâ¦very definite views on business and pleasure.â
âDoes that mean that you shed your working personality the minute you walk out of the office building?â He stared at her narrowly, head cocked insolently to one side, as though conjuring up a mental picture. âIntriguing. As the office doors swing shut behind you, do you wrench the clips out of your hair and hitch up your neat, little tailored skirt?â
âOf course I donât,â Vicky said coolly. âI just think that itâs important to separate leisure time from work time, or else the two begin flowing into one another and somewhere down the road you realise that thereâs no part of your life that isnât free from work.â Neat, little tailored skirt? How could four small words be invested with such a derogatory meaning? He made her sound like an old age pensioner and, without thinking, she let her fingers flutter to the top button of her shirt, firmly done up, protecting her from unwanted attention. She had never been like this. There had been a time, not that long ago, when sheâd used to wear short skirts and pretty, attractive tops, but that had been before she had learnt that prudery was the only defence against Shaunâs lecherous hands. The sight of her primly buttoned up had sometimes been enough to deter him from invading her body and she had grown accustomed to the way of dressing until now, she realised with a start, most of her clothes conformed to the prissy, unadventurous image she had meticulously cultivated over time.
âBut is it such a good idea to compartmentalise your life? Donât you find that a little unhealthy?â Heâd pushed his chair a little way away from hers to enable him to scrutinise her face, which was now going a deep shade of pink. It occurred to her that they had successfully managed to veer away from the point of their conversation, which was namely to brief her on office business, and she struggled to find a way of bringing it back to the matter in hand. While she was busy grappling with the problem, he filled the brief silence with his sudden interest in her private life.
âReminds me of a split personality,â he said thoughtfully, and she felt her hackles rise at the insinuation.
âI assure you Iâm perfectly normal ,â Vicky informed himin a voice that suggested closure of the topic. She meaningfully peered at the file in front of her, even fetching out a piece of paper to stare at it with frowning concentration, though her eyes werenât registering much of what was written there.
âI never implied that you werenât!â he protested in an offended voice. âI just think that itâs perfectly natural for work to spill over sometimes into leisure.â
âWell, perhaps youâre right,â Vicky said with a shrug. âAre you contactable when youâre in London or would you rather problems waited until you returned here?â
âYou can e-mail me any time, or telephone, of course, although Iâm not often in the office.â He allowed an acceptable period of silence to stretch between them, then he said in a considering tone, âDo you know, itâs been my experience that women who are fanatically guarded about their private life usually have something to hideâ¦?â
He had unknowingly hit jackpot. He could sense it in the stillness of her body, which only lasted a matter of seconds but was enough to tell an entire story of its own.
âI have nothing to hide,â she informed him icily,
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