Free Never Leave Me by Harold Robbins

was sure he wouldn’t forgive me having her with me. I’d give an eyetooth to know who sent him that report.
    I thought about Elaine back at the hotel waiting for me. I remembered how she had been at breakfast that morning. I had been nervous. My stomach had been jumping.
    “Easy, boy, easy,” she had said with a quick understanding. “Uncle Matt isn’t an ogre. He won’t eat you. He just wants to talk over a deal.”
    In spite of myself I had smiled. Maybe it was just a deal to Matt Brady, but it was the big deal to me.
    I took another sip of my drink and ran into water. Silently I gestured to the bartender for a refill. I sure kicked that one out the window. I looked down at my watch. Two o’clock. I hated to go back to the hotel and tell her what had happened.
    I was on my second double when I looked up at the mirror over the bar. I thought a dame had smiled at me. I was right. The girl in the mirror smiled again.
    I spun around on my chair and smiled back at her. She gestured and I picked up my drink and walked towards her table. It was Matt Brady’s secretary. I felt a little tight. My mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “How come the old man let you out for lunch?” I asked. “The Department of Labour get after him?”
    She ignored my crack. “Mr. Brady always leaves the office at one-thirty,” she said. “He doesn’t come back.”
    I knew an invitation when I heard one. I dropped into the chair beside her. “Good,” I said. “I hate drinking alone.”
    She smiled. “He called your hotel and left a message for you before he went home.” “Tell him to keep it,” I said belligerently. “I want no part of him.”
    She help up her hands as if to ward of a blow. “Don’t be mad at me, Mr. Rowan,” she said. “I only work there.”
    She was right. I was being a fool. “I’m sorry, Miss—uh—Miss——” “Wallace,” she answered. “Sandra Wallace.”
    “Miss Wallace,” I said formally. “Let me get you a drink.” I signalled the waiter and looked at her inquiringly.
    “Very dry martini,” she said. The waiter went away and she looked at me. “Mr. Brady likes you,” she said.
    “Good,” I answered. “I don’t like him.”
    “He wants you to work for him. He was sure that you would. He even had the legal department draw up a contract for you.”
    “Does he have an employment contract with his spies too?” I asked.
    The waiter put her drink down and went away. I picked up my drink and waved it at her. “The only job I’d take from him right now is watching you,” I said.
    She laughed. “You’re crazy.”
    “Crazy as hell,” I said. “For that he wouldn’t even have to pay me.” “Thank you, Mr. Rowan,” she said, raising her glass to her lips.
    “Brad’s the name; whenever somebody calls me Mister, I always turn around. I think it’s my father they’re talking to.”
    “Okay, Brad,” she smiled. “But sooner or later you’ll get used to it and do what he wants.” “You heard me when I went out of the office,” I told her. “I’m not taking his job.”
    A strange look came over her face. It was almost as if she had heard this many times before. “He’ll get you, Brad,” she said quietly. “You don’t know him. Matt Brady always gets what he wants.”
    A flash of understanding suddenly penetrated my fuzzy head. “You don’t like him?” I asked. She lowered her voice almost to a whisper. “I hate him.”
    My head was clearing quickly. “Then why stay? You don’t have to work for him. There are other jobs.”
    “From the time I was eleven years old and my father was killed in the foundry I knew I was going to be his secretary.”
    I was interested. “How come?”
    “My mother went to his office and dragged me with her. I was big for my age, and Matt Brady didn’t miss a trick. I remember his walking around that desk and taking my hand. I even remember how cold his fingers were when he spoke to my mother.
    “‘Don’t worry, Mrs. Wolenciwicz,’