The Baby Verdict Read online

He looked at her fully then, not saying anything for such a long time that she began to feel uncomfortable. Then he pushed himself away from the desk and stood up, his hands in his pockets, and began pacing the room, finally ending up by the window, where he remained standing, resting back against the ledge.

  He was even taller than she had originally thought, and his body had a toned leanness to it that reminded her of something dangerous and unpredictable. Some kind of predatory jungle animal. Or perhaps, she thought, aware that she shouldn’t stare and therefore carefully averting her eyes to a point slightly to the side of him, that was simply the overall impression he emanated.

  ‘You’ll have to cover for Robert during his absence,’ he said, looking at her, his blue eyes calculating. ‘Naturally, you’ll be financially compensated.’

  ‘That won’t be a problem.’ She could hardly carry on talking to the upper-left angle of the window, so she looked him fully in the face, and felt that disturbing awareness again.

  Whatever was wrong with her? She didn’t even care for the man! He was about as jovial as a barracuda. Not the sort of man she went for at all. Her boyfriends, short-lived though they tended to be, were all fashioned in the same mould: easygoing, considerate, occasionally a little dull. But men she could handle.

  She had seen firsthand how debilitating it could be to live a life over which you exercised no control. She had watched her mother wither over the years as she had endured her husband’s brutal infidelities, tied to the house because she had been told repeatedly that she was incapable of doing anything on her own.

  Jessica had fashioned her escape from that stifling atmosphere with the precision of a military campaign. While her teenaged friends had spent their days swooning over boys and experimenting with make-up, she had buried her head in her books, working with the single-minded passion of someone who needed to furiously dig a tunnel before they could see the outside world.

  She had no intention of ever handing over control of her life to someone else. She had studied hard, worked hard and every step of her career had been built on determination and lessons learnt in the past.

  ‘I already work very closely with Robert, anyway,’ she said, snapping back to the present and focusing on the man standing in front of her. ‘I know most of his client base. The rest I can familiarise myself with easily enough.’ A temporary promotion. She breathed a little sigh of relief. And to think that she had hovered uncertainly by that office door, convinced that she was about to be handed her walking cards.

  ‘Will that be all?’ she asked, standing up. She smiled and extended her hand.

  ‘No.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘No, that will not be all, so you might as well sit back down.’

  A man accustomed to giving orders. A man who bypassed the polite preliminaries of conversation that most people took for granted.

  She withdrew her hand, feeling a bit idiotic, and sat back down.

  ‘You don’t think that I travelled out here merely to inform you that you’ve got a promotion, do you?’ His voice was cool and amused, and it was an effort for her to continue looking at him without dislike.

  ‘I know,’ she said, ‘that was silly of me, wasn’t it?’

  He frowned, and she struggled to contain a sudden urge to grin.

  ‘Do I hear a little edge of sarcasm there?’ he asked mildly.

  ‘Of course not!’ Her brown eyes were innocently shocked at such a suggestion. ‘I wouldn’t dare!’

  ‘You haven’t asked when Robert is due to leave.’ He returned to the chair behind the desk, sat back down and then pushed it away so that he could cross his legs, ankle on knee.

  ‘I assumed...’ What had she assumed? ‘I guessed that it would be in a couple of months’ time...?’

  ‘At the end of the week.’

  ‘The end of the week!’ Jessica looked at him, startled. ‘The end of this week? But how? Why hasn’t he said anything to me? Surely he’ll need longer than four days to tie up loose ends...’

  ‘Are you beginning to regret your optimism in filling in for him?’

  ‘I’m just expressing surprise at the suddenness of it all,’ she told him coldly. ‘I’m also a little bit taken aback that he didn’t see fit to inform me before this.’

  ‘You have me to thank for that,’ he said bluntly. ‘This development happened overnight, literally, and I told him that it would be better for me to talk to you. In fact, it was essential that I did.’ He paused, as though contemplating what to say next. ‘His mother lives in America and two days ago she suffered a stroke. I told him that it made sense for him to combine his leave with a visit out there to see her. He’ll speak to you about this when he gets in this afternoon, then he’ll call a staff meeting some time tomorrow.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘The reason I made a point of coming out here to tell you all this yourself—’

  ‘When you almost certainly would have had better things to do,’ Jessica muttered to herself,

  ‘Sorry? I missed that.’ He leaned forward slightly, and she flashed him a brilliant smile.

  ‘Nothing important. Just thinking aloud.’

  ‘This sudden development comes at a rather inconvenient time.’

  ‘Inconvenient for whom?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll ignore that question,’ Bruno told her, narrowing his eyes. ‘It borders on impertinence.’

  Which it did. She felt colour steal into her cheeks. Had she forgotten that this man was her boss? Had she forgotten that she should toe the line and not risk her career for the sake of emotion?

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said honestly. ‘I suppose I’m just shocked and worried about Robert. It’s been sprung on me out of the blue.’

  What a limp lettuce of an excuse, she thought. She could feel his shrewd eyes on her, assessing, and she waited for him to inform her that sarcasm was not something he would tolerate. Sarcasm, she suspected, was not something he had probably ever had to deal with.

  He chose to disregard what she had said, though.

  ‘Two days ago,’ he said instead, ‘I received this.’ He withdrew a letter from his jacket pocket and shoved it across the desk to her, then he sat back and watched while she opened it and read the contents several times over.

  Bruno Carr was being sued. Personally. A component for a car, manufactured by one of his plants, had resulted in a near-fatal car crash.

  ‘This,’ he explained softly, ‘is why I thought it important to come and see you myself.’

  Jessica looked up briefly before re-reading the official letter. ‘To see if you considered me capable of dealing with this...’

  ‘That’s right. And you’re not what I expected.’

  ‘Is that why you expressed concern about my age, Mr Carr?’ She carefully placed the sheet of paper on the desk in front of her and sat back, with her fingers linked on her lap.

  A legal issue was something she could deal with. The personal confrontation with Bruno Carr had brought out feelings in her she hadn’t even known existed, at least not for a very long time. But this. She took her time considering him.

  ‘You think that because I’m relatively young I’m incapable of doing a good job.’

  ‘You lack experience,’ he said flatly. ‘You are also a woman.’

  ‘Perhaps I could address those concerns of yours one at a time?’ When she smiled, her jaw ached because of the effort, and her fingers were itching to hurl something very heavy at him. Precisely what century was this man living in?

  ‘Firstly, age has nothing to do with competence. I can’t deny that I haven’t got three decades’ worth of experience behind me, but then I can assure you that I am more than capable of dealing with this lawsuit.’ The only way to deal with Bruno Carr, she decided, was not to be cowed by him. He would smell out any hint of uncertainty from her with the unerring precision of a shark smelling blood, and he would promptly take his lawsuit somewhere else. Careerwise, it would be death for her.


  ‘Of course, I shall need immediate and unrestricted access to any information, technical or otherwise, that I consider necessary...’

  He nodded fractionally, and continued to look at her, waiting for her to say her piece, upon which he would deliver his verdict.

  ‘Fine. Now, secondly, yes, I am a woman.’ Camouflaged as it was by her genderless working garb. In a man’s world, frilly dresses were off limits—not that she had ever been one for frilly dresses anyway. A suit told the world precisely what she wanted it to know, which was that she was to be taken seriously. Even outside the working environment, she steered clear of frocks and short skirts, preferring jeans and clothes that were tailored and smart rather than provocative. It was only when she stripped at night that she saw the reflection of her own body in the mirror—tall, slender, but with full breasts and long legs. A good figure, she knew. It was as well to conceal it.

  ‘However,’ she continued, ‘women comprise a high percentage of the working arena these days, in case you hadn’t noticed. I’m sure if you cast your eyes around you’ll discover that there are quite a few spread throughout your various companies.’

  ‘Ah, but none of them is poised to defend my name in a lawsuit, are they?’ he pointed out smoothly.

  ‘And why do you think that a man might be more competent at the job than a woman?’ she asked, changing tactic. She fixed him a cool, implacable stare, one of her specialities when it came to withering any member of the opposite sex who might be overstepping her boundaries. He stared back at her, unperturbed.

  ‘Because women are prone to outbursts of hysteria when the going gets too tough, and I, frankly, don’t think that that will do at all in this instance.’

  Oh, good grief, Jessica thought to herself. Was she really hearing this?

  ‘Outbursts of hysteria?’ she asked politely, with her head tilted to one side. ‘When the going gets tough?’ She laughed dryly. ‘Possibly with the women you tend to associate with, but I can assure you that there’s a whole army of them out there who don’t react in any such way when faced with a challenge.’ She paused, and added for good measure, ‘And by challenge I don’t mean colour co-ordinating our clothes or debating what shade of nail polish we should wear on our next date.’

  He looked away and she caught something that looked remarkably like a stifled smile, although she couldn’t be sure, because when he once again looked at her his face was serious.

  ‘Robert has every confidence in your ability,’ he told her. ‘And that’s counted heavily in your favour. If it were up to me, I would say that a young, inexperienced woman would not come high on the list of people I would choose to handle this.’

  I’m going to have to work fairly closely with this man if I get this job, Jessica thought grimly. I’m going to have to quell the urge to strangle him.

  ‘Well,’ she informed him with a cool little smile and a slight shrug, ‘there’s nothing more I can say to convince you that I’d do a good job. If you don’t feel one hundred per cent confident of my abilities, then, of course, you must look elsewhere.’

  The interview, as far as she was concerned, was finished, but she was deeply reluctant to stand up, just in case he ordered her to sit back down again.

  He saved her the decision by standing up himself and moving around the desk towards her.

  For a second she felt a recurrence of that vague, unspecified alarm that had wrong-footed her previously, then it subsided and she rose to her feet In her heels, she reached just to the level of his mouth, and she averted her eyes hurriedly because, almost unconsciously, her mind registered that it was a disconcertingly sensual mouth.

  ‘I’m prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt, Miss Stearn,’ he said, reaching out to shake her hand.

  ‘And I’m flattered,’ she replied, withdrawing her hand almost immediately, ‘especially since I realise that it goes against your better judgement. I’ll do a good job.’

  ‘Oh, I hope so,’ he drawled, looking down at her, ‘for both our sakes.’

  ‘Quite.’ She abandoned all attempts at smiling. Why bother? If he could be brutally frank with her, then she would be as brutally frank back, within reasonable limits.

  ‘And I feel I should warn you that I’m intolerant of incompetence, especially when my reputation is at stake.’

  ‘Thanks for the warning. I’ll bear it in mind.’

  She watched as he walked towards the door, then as he was about to open it he turned and looked at her over his shoulder.

  ‘You’re quite the hard nut, aren’t you?’ he said in a speculative voice.

  Was he surprised? She supposed so. Quite unexpectedly, she had a vision of the sort of women he appreciated, and she could guarantee that not a single hard nut would be among them.

  ‘I’m not about to agree or disagree with that, Mr Carr. You’re entitled to your own opinion.’

  He nodded, half smiled, and then closed the door behind him, and it was only then, as her body sagged, that she realised quite how much strain she had been under.

  The news about Robert had come as a shock. He had seemed fit enough. Hadn’t he? She frowned and tried to remember whether there had been any give-away signs of ill health. Then, uneasily, it crossed her mind that perhaps there had been and she had just failed to recognise them because she’d been so wrapped up in her work. Her concentration on her job was single-minded and complete, which, she acknowledged, was great when it came to climbing ladders and winning promotions, but there was a great big world out there and...was it passing her by?

  No. Surely not. She had a successful, rewarding career. How could anything be passing her by? Every goal she had striven for had been achieved. She should feel nothing but satisfaction.

  Of course, her love life was not exactly thrilling. In fact, it was positively non-existent at the moment. Her relationship with Greg had ended six months ago, which had been roughly its duration. She uncomfortably remembered his criticism of her—that she had been obsessed with her career.

  You’re quite the hard nut, aren’t you?

  There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be independent, she told herself fiercely. If her mother had been financially independent, she would have had the courage to leave the man who had made her life hell.

  There’s nothing wrong with me, she thought, and, if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll prove that I can take this case and win it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  JESSICA looked at her watch, stretched, and debated whether she should telephone Bruno Carr or not It was eight o’clock, she was still at work, and she needed information. If she was to win this case, she thought with a sense of self-righteous indignation, then he would have to be more available to answer questions. For the past week he had been abroad on business, and, however much information she could gather from various members of various departments, sooner or later he would have to avail himself.

  She eyed the phone warily, as though fearing that it might metamorphose into something unpleasant at any moment, then, making her mind up, she dialled his direct work extension and was on the verge of hanging up when she heard his voice down the other end.

  Irrationally, she felt a flutter of nerves.

  ‘Mr Carr? This is Jessica Steam here. I’ve been trying to reach you for the past week, but I gather you’ve been away on business.’

  ‘New York.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad you’re back because there are one or two questions I need to ask you.’ She shuffled some bits of paper in front of her, then began to doodle on her notepad.

  ‘Fire away.’

  ‘I think it might be better if this is done face to face. It’s important that you familiarise yourself with every aspect of the case so that every question that’s thrown at you on the stand can be dealt with.’

  ‘It wasn’t my intention to go into the witness box unprepared,’ he said dryly.

  ‘Perhaps we could meet some time tomorrow?’ she asked, glancing at her diary.

  ‘Why not n
ow?’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘I take it you’re still at work.’

  ‘Yes, I am, but—’

  ‘No time like the present. Now, do you know the address of my office here?’ He rattled it off, and she hurriedly scribbled it alongside her complicated doodle. ‘Get a cab. You’ll get here quicker.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  She heard the flat hum of the dialling tone and stared at the receiver in her hand with an expression of stunned amazement. He’d hung up on her! He’d decided that now was as good a time to answer questions as any, and hadn’t even had the common politeness to ask her what her plans for the evening might be!

  Was he so used to getting his own way that he simply took it for granted that the rest of the human race would fall in with whatever he wanted?

  She stood up, slipped on her jacket and coat, grabbed her handbag from the low, square table in the corner of her office and hurried out of the building.

  The more she thought about his attitude, the more exasperated she became. She could very nearly convince herself that she had really had exciting plans for the evening, when in fact her plans had included no more than a quick, pre-prepared meal in front of the television, a few law articles she wanted to have a look at, and then bed.

  Hardly heady stuff, she knew, but she had been working since eight-thirty in the morning, and a low-key evening was just what she felt she needed.

  It didn’t help that she had to trudge two blocks and wait fifteen minutes before she managed to hail a taxi. Thursday nights were always busy. Late-night shopping and the remnants of the January sales were enough to encourage even the laziest into the streets. She watched as taxi after taxi trundled past and was in a thoroughly foul temper by the time a vacant one pulled over to the side for her.

  I need a long soak in a bath, she fumed silently to herself, staring out of the window at the bright lights and the people, hurrying along to minimise the length of time they spent in the cold. Her suit felt starched and uncomfortable, her make-up had almost vanished completely and she wanted to kick off her shoes and let her feet breathe.

  His office block in the City was quite different from where she worked. Large, with a lot of opaque glass everywhere, and, when she entered, a profusion of plants strewn around an enormous reception area, in the centre of which the large, circular desk, manned by an elderly man in uniform, was a bit like an island adrift in the middle of an ocean.