A Summer Fling Read Online Free PDF Page A

unfamiliar clock on the wall as well. ‘So are quite a lot of things which seem to have appeared since Friday.’
    ‘Morning, everyone,’ said Raychel, shyly walking in, and just behind her chestnut-haired Anna arrived with an even quieter greeting, equally mesmerized by all the changes in the department. They all seemed a bit nervy that morning. They had hardly got to know each other and now there would be a mighty impact on even those flimsy dynamics. It felt as if it were the first day in a new class and they were all waiting for the teacher to come in and take control.
    Over half an hour later, at nine o’clock precisely, a surge of excitement Mexican waved towards them. The exalted figure of James McAskill appeared at the far end of the office alongside a woman in a bright red suit, red shoes and coordinating bag. A personal appearance from him was unusual in itself, but the fact that he was smiling whilst he was talking to this woman – as one would with an old friend – was extraordinary. Immediately, the status of the new Bakery boss went up by a few notches. Grace noticed that Malcolm was looking over with great interest from his department further down the long open-plan office.
    ‘Ladies,’ said Mr McAskill, ‘may I present Mrs Christie Somers. Christie, may I present the ladies of my Bakery department. This is Grace’ – he gestured to them all one by one – ‘Dawn, Anna and Raychel.’
    ‘How do you do, girls,’ said Christie in a confident, cigarette-smoky drawl. From her clothes to her voice, there was nothing quiet about this woman.
    ‘I’ve just been giving Christie a guided tour and, can you believe it, I got lost,’ said James McAskill with lips full of a beaming smile. Mr McAskill never smiled, despite being the multi-millionaire MD and majority shareholder of the chain of mini-supermarkets, White Rose Stores, which his grandfather had started and he had developed to an incredibly successful degree. Not only was WRS a national institution, but they had recently gone international too, putting stores in ex-pat-heavy areas in Europe with very encouraging results. More than one business newspaper columnist referred to James as ‘McMidas’.
    ‘I’m sure I’ll find my way around in no time,’ said Christie Somers. She reminded Grace of her old hockey teacher, with her assured delivery and fag-ravaged voice.
    ‘I’ll leave you to get settled in then, my dear,’ said Mr McAskill. Had the others known each other better, they would have exchanged furtive glances at that point. My dear? They could see rubber-necks from personnel in other departments. Malcolm’s neck was almost popping off his spine.
    ‘So I get the posh desk, do I?’ said Christie as James McAskill left her to settle herself in with her new team. ‘This one?’ She indicated the curved desk behind the privacy screen.
    ‘Yes, that’s yours,’ said Grace with a kindly smile.
    ‘That screen will have to go,’ said Christie. ‘Can’t see what’s going on behind that thing!’
    Malcolm had insisted on the screen when he came. That way he could play games on the Internet and read crime thrillers without anyone seeing he was skiving.
    ‘I’ll call Maintenance for you, shall I?’ asked Grace.
    ‘No, just show me the way to the telephone directory and I’ll do it myself,’ said Christie. ‘I’ve always been a believer in throwing myself in at the deep end!’
    Lord, she was different from Malcolm, thought Grace, who would have let the girls wipe his bottom if he could have got away with asking.
    ‘So, first things first. Let’s all go for a coffee and bond,’ said Christie. ‘I think I can just about remember my way to the canteen.’
    ‘What, now?’ said Dawn.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘All of us?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘What – and leave the phones?’ said Grace. Cardinal sin. Malcolm would have had them all beheaded for less.
    ‘I’m sure that voicemail can pick them up for half an hour. Come on. I need to meet you