Page 11 of A Colourful Country Escape
What did they call this nothing shade? Lacklustre Linen? Haughty Horseradish? She thought back to her days in the art studio at school. Her sanctuary. This place needed some warmth, that was for sure. Although it sounded like the mother had her hand firmly on the paint pot. She wondered if she was in charge of the purse-strings too – like the pearl-clenching mother of a certain wealthy ex-boyfriend.
They reached a doorway, embellished with gold lettering. ‘Private Drawing Room.’ Lexie felt her muscles stiffen. She’d never been into a drawing room before – it sounded grand. The initials underneath read ‘J. R. C.’ Who was that? God, not the fox-like mother, waiting in her den.
‘Maybe I should just … ’ Lexie pointed back towards the exit. What was the polite way to say ‘get the hell out of here’?
Cory laughed and patted her on the back. ‘I won’t let him bite.’
The drawing room, which was an office at one end and a lounging area with leather sofas at the other, had hardly seen a lick of paint. Shades of beige had been banished and wooden panelling ran the show. It was definitely a man cave. With a few candles and some burning logs in the fireplace, it could almost be cosy. But, anyway, she wasn’t here to redecorate. At least not in the literal sense.
Ben installed himself behind a large desk with green leather inlay. Lexie could see her CV sprawled across it. She winced. And what were the other papers – more CVs? She wondered how many opponents were in the running. She needed this job. Hitchhiking home like a penniless failure was not an option.
But did shewantthis job? With grumpy Ben? She gritted her teeth.
Well, she was here now and she didn’t plan to leave looking like a numpty. She’d at least go down fighting and crawl out with a few shreds of dignity. Well, subject to Penny ever working again, and no further run-ins with the peacocks.
Her insides tightened. It was time to get the gloves out.
Chapter 7
As interviews went, Lexie could already tell this was going to be a strange one.
She tried not to squirm as Ben leafed through her CV. Should she try and distract him? Too many questions about its contents could end in disaster. She could do the job of social media manager with her eyes shut. But the advert had been firm that they’d expected a proper uni degree, rather than someone who’d taught themselves while backpacking and travel-blogging around Thailand. So maybe her CV wording was a bit on the creative side.
And if they ever learned the half of how that trip had ended up, then wow. They’d have two reasons to kick her out; that’s if she ever got in.
A loud pop from the sofa made her jump.
‘Sorry!’ Cory winced before lounging backwards and delving into the bag of Doritos he’d just burst open.
Ben gave him an icicle glare. ‘Manners.’
‘Oh yeah, sorry!’ He jumped up, wiped his hands on his shorts and held the bag out towards Lexie.
She got a whiff of Chilli Heatwave before having to duck to avoid the crossfire.
‘Don’t be absurd. Go and arrange teas, or something,’ Ben snapped.
Cory rolled his eyes. ‘What do you fancy? A pot of Tetley and some custard creams? Can you see why this old charmer is still single?’
‘Er … ’
‘Not relevant, Cory,’ said Ben, with slightly more sternness than was necessary.
Cory climbed to his still-bare feet. Oh crap, why was he leaving her with pain-in-the-arse cop?
‘I’ll speak to Mrs Moon.’
‘You’ll give her a hand,’ said Ben.
There, that was kind. Wasn’t it?
Cory grinned. ‘He doesn’t like Mrs Moon coming in here, otherwise he’d have to allow Mummy dear into the Presidential Office. Think yourself lucky. Not many ladies penetrate this far inside the mysterious workings of Carrington Paints.’
Oh great, mystery too. The Scooby-Doo gang would have a field day in this place.
When his brother had left the room, Ben put down the paperwork and stared at her across his huge leather-topped desk. His all-seeing atlas eyes seemed to pin her to her chair.
‘So tell me why I need to pay somebody to chat with my clients on Facebook all day.’
