Page 232 of Storm of Bells
Calm, Rikkard. Remain calm. This is alreadyenough of a publicity disaster. A strangled secretary will nothelp.
‘I can remember back when I was young andcaught the flu,’ she continued her explanation in a chipper tone.‘And I had only my aunt to take care of me. Idefinitelycould have used something to sweeten my disposition—or hers, forthat matter.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘Hey! That’s an idea. Wecould add a new line of sweets for the mothers, too! I bet thatwould—’
My icy killer stare managed to silence her.Just in time, too! I wasn’t sure how long I could have kept myselffrom silencing her another way. And I wasn’t sure if I would haveused my hands or my lips.
‘So that’s it? You based an entireadvertising campaign onpersonal childhood experience?’
She tugged on her ear. ‘Err…I gather thatisn’t how one’s supposed to do it?’
‘It. Is. Not.’
‘Oh.’
‘Do you have any idea how much a nationwidecampaign costs?’
‘No, Sir.’
I leaned forward, staring straight into hereyes. And trying my very best not to lose myself in them. Damn her!Why did her eyes have to be so warm, so welcoming…
Ignore! Irrelevant!
‘At least a thousand pounds!’ I ground out,coming back to what wasreallyimportant.
‘Um, what? So much?’
‘A thousand pounds!’ I slammed the paper ontothe table, the pain in my hand bringing back a little bit ofsanity. ‘A thousand pounds down the sinkhole…I…I could…’
I growled, the sentence disintegrating intoindistinct noises.
‘Do you have trouble with your throat, Sir?’Leaning forward solicitously, she pulled something out of herpocket. A…colourful paper bag? Like a bag of sweets? No. No, surelyshe wouldn’t dare! ‘Here. I hear these are very effective. I’m sureyou’ll feel much more relaxed after you’ve tried—’
There, right in front of my face dangled abag proclaimingCOCAINE COUGH DROPSin bright, cheerfulletters.
‘Out! Out, Mr Linton!’
***
A few days later, I had managed to regain amodicum of calm and remember one important fact: I hadwantedMiss Linton to fail, had I not? Now that she hadstarted this atrocious advertising campaign, it would only be amatter of time before I could engineer her resignation and makecertain that, once we were married, she would stay where shebelonged: at home. With me. Safe and secure.
Though, for some reason, that thought did notmake me feel particularly better. Maybe because of the bright,cheerful billboard advertising for cocaine cough drops I could seefrom my office window.
Or maybe it’s because you know how she’llfeel when she’ll have to quit?
Silencing that irrational voice at the backof my mind, I straightened and adjusted my bowtie. Now wasn’t themoment for idle thoughts. Just to be certain, I had taken anotherlong look at Mr Linton’s so-called ‘advertising campaign’. And myjudgement this time was no different. My secretary had received hersummons shortly after.
Footsteps were approaching from beyond thedoor. It was time.
Taking a deep breath, I turned towards thewindow behind my desk to gaze out over the city, and so I wouldn’thave to see the billboard visible through the other window. Itwasn’t at all so I wouldn’t have to look her in the eyes whiledoing this.
Any moment now…
A knock came from the door.
‘Enter,’ I commanded. Behind me, I heard thedoor creak open and I heard a familiar set of footsteps moveinside.
She was here.
A moment of silence passed.
