Free Her Impossible Boss by Cathy Williams Page A

was drooping, and had been for a while. A small, quiet bundle, shorn of the tentative beginnings of exuberance that had marked the past week or so.
    What a hellish disaster, Matt thought in raging frustration. What the
hell
was Vicky’s agenda? She had monopolised the conversation, glorified herself, done her level best to ingratiate herself with Samantha.
    ‘You’ve hardly been here two minutes.’ He frowned at Tess, who was fidgeting apologetically, playing with the clasp on the leather satchel slung over her shoulder. ‘What do you mean
you’re going?’
    ‘I have some stuff to do.’
    ‘Your working day hasn’t come to an end. It’s not yet five-thirty.’
    He felt, with considerable irritation, Vicky’s arm link through his and the weight of her as she leant against him.
    ‘We could go off and do something,’ Samantha interjected in a cool, childish voice. ‘Tess could drop me home. Couldn’t you, Tess? We could even stop off and have something to eat on the way. Burgers and fries,’she added, because somewhere along the line there had been a long lecture from Vicky on the dangers of the wrong diet. At the time she had been focusing on the last of the hot dog disappearing into Samantha’s mouth.
    ‘You’ll leave with us,’ Matt rasped, sliding his eyes down to where his daughter was staring at him, sullen and tight-lipped. ‘And I don’t want any arguments, Samantha. I’m your father and you’ll do as I say.’
    In the sweltering heat, tempers were frayed. Tess miserably wondered whether Matt would rather have stayed at home with his girlfriend. Did his foul mood stem from the fact that he could think of better things to be doing with his time? Didn’t he know that his relationship with Samantha was still so fragile that coming down heavy on her now was going to jeopardise everything they had begun building together?
    She felt as though she had failed them both. She told herself stoutly that their relationship wasn’t her concern, that she was just a ship in the night, passing through their lives, but right here, with people bustling around them and Samantha looking to be on the verge of tears, Tess suddenly felt miserable and depressed.
    ‘I’ll be at work bright and early on Monday morning,’ Tess said brightly. ‘Or we could even do something tomorrow, if you like…?’ This was to Samantha, but Vicky was quick to step in, smiling and giving Matt’s arm a gentle squeeze.
    ‘We’ll be fine.’ Her voice was hard as nails. ‘I just got back from the Far East. I’d quite like to have my little unit to myself over the weekend. Besides, don’t you have anything better to do than spend your Saturday with a ten-year-old child?’
    Those ringing words were a timely reminder to Tess that she needed to get her act together. Hadn’t Matt mentioned something along those lines to her himself? Had he and his girlfriend been exchanging jokey e-mails about her? The sad little nanny with no life to speak of in one of the most exciting cities in the world?
    The journey back to her sister’s apartment was long and hot and tedious. The upside was that there would be no one around to question her tearful mood. The downside was that she did, actually, feel as though she needed a sympathetic shoulder to cry on.
    Nothing could distract her from the sobering realisation that she had made a complete fool of herself by lusting after a man who wasn’t interested in her. It was a sign of her own vanity—which was something she had never even known she
possessed
—that she hadn’t once stopped to ask herself whether he was involved with a woman. There had seemed to be none on the scene, and he had mentioned no names, and so she had made her own incorrect conclusions.
    It was a little after eight when the buzzer sounded. Claire had an intercom system in her flat. It was an excellent way of avoiding unwanted visitors. You could see them on the little television-style screen and then just duck low until they