Piping Her Tune Page 7

  “I’m so sorry to have to refuse, but I’m going over to see my mum. I haven’t told her yet.” She ruefully twitched her mouth. “God, she’s going to have an absolute fit.”

  “Wouldn’t she be pleased about the money?”

  “Not if Victoria’s giving it. She doesn’t like her. She’ll be concerned that Vic will make me her slave and I’ll be sacrificing myself so we can have a better life.”

  Chantal put her glass on the table and eyed her keenly. “And do you think that will be the case?”

  Abby suddenly arched forward until she poised like a coiled spring on the edge of the chair. She bared her teeth and tossed her head back in defiance. Her blond curls bounced round her head. She uttered a low growl. “She’ll try. And what a surprise Ms Myers is going to get. She won’t have a clue what’s hit her.”

  Chantal’s mouth formed into an O. “Abby, you look like a glorious snow tiger ready to pounce. Merde! Victoria’s in for the shock of her life.”

  Abby laughed. “She’s not going to get things as easy as she thinks.”

  “Will I see you again before you go?” Chantal asked.

  “I don’t think that’s possible. We leave on Friday, so I’ll be too busy. I’ll have to buy clothes tomorrow and get my hair trimmed. Then say goodbye to my friends, and pack and organize Mum’s finances as well. It’s going to be a hectic three days.”

  “Then I shall ring you constantly so you don’t forget me while you’re away.”

  Abby enveloped her in a hug. “I couldn’t do that. This is au revoir, not goodbye.”

  * * *

  Abby couldn’t remember being so nervous at the prospect of seeing her mother. It was as if something was caught in her throat. She hesitated for a moment at the door, set her shoulders and she pushed it open.

  “Is that you, Abby?” her mother sang out from the kitchen.

  “Yes, Mum.”

  “I’ll be with you in a minute, dear. Dinner is nearly ready.”

  Abby debated the time to tell her. She’d be too anxious to eat if she didn’t get it over with. “Could you come into the lounge before you serve? I’ve got something to tell you.”

  As her mother sat down on the chair opposite, Abby’s tight smile bunched her cheeks like a pair of apricots. “I…I’ve got some news.”

  Judy Benton gazed at her quizzically. “What is it? There’s nothing wrong, is there?”

  Abby shook her head as she struggled with her composure. “You might say it’s great news, but maybe you won’t.”

  Judy looked a little bewildered. “For heaven’s sake, Abby, what are you going on about? Just tell me and I’ll work it out for myself.”

  “Um…I’ve been offered a job. The good news, it pays very well. The bad news, I have to go overseas for six months.”

  “That’s not an insurmountable problem. Joyce next door can keep an eye on me. I’m not helpless. What the position?” She narrowed her eyes. “There’s more to this, isn’t there? You’re not going to be doing something illegal, are you?”

  Abby couldn’t stop fidgeting—it felt like ants were dancing a tango down her spine. She waved her hands. “No—no, of course not.”

  “Well?”

  Abby slid her gaze away. “It’s who my employer will be that you may find upsetting.”

  “Go on.”

  “It’s Victoria Myers.” The words shot out in a gush.

  “That woman! How could you work for her?”

  “The company has offered me two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to accompany her to negotiate contracts. We’ll be gone for six months.”

  “What do you have to do for that sort of money? It doesn’t sound right,” said her mother.

  “Well, actually the wage was originally one hundred and fifty thousand but Victoria threw in the extra ’cause she knew I wouldn’t be able to refuse. I would have, refused that is, but I had to accept ’cause it’ll get us out of financial trouble. But I didn’t go down without a fight. I told…” Abby stopped babbling at the confused look on her mother’s face.

  Judy straightened up and delivered a hard stare. Abby knew the look—it was time to be worried. “Do you mean to say that Myers woman is giving you an enormous amount of money over and above the wage? What exactly are you expected to do?”

  Abby fluttered her hands, suitably vague. “This and that. Mostly secretarial work and some data analysis. Be her support at functions—you understand—that kind of thing.”

  “You may work for the wage offered but you are definitely not going to accept her personal contribution.”

  Abby snarled and sprung to her feet. “Oh, yes I am. She can afford it.”

  Judy blinked at her daughter as if she were a complete stranger. “When have you been so blasé about other people’s money? That’s not like you.”

  “Tush. It’s only Victoria. She doesn’t count.”

  “Why doesn’t she count?”

  “Because she hates me and I hate her,” said Abby with a satisfied smirk.

  The logic seemed lost on Judy, who tried a different tack. “You’ll be less than a servant if you accept it. She’ll own you.”

  A sneer appeared on Abby’s face. “Huh! She wishes. She’s going to be in for one big fat surprise.”

  “Perhaps you should reconsider, dear.”

  “I’m going and that’s that.”

  Judy slowly got up and looked down at her. “I haven’t a clue what’s going on. We were on different wavelengths the entire conversation. I don’t understand what the true extent of your relationship with Victoria Myers exactly is, and I’m beginning to doubt if you have any idea either. I just pray you understand what you’re doing.” She took her hand. “Remember, dear. Be careful what you accept. There is an old saying, ‘He who pays the piper calls the tune.’ If you take her money then she will have full control over you, on a personal as well as a business level. You’ll be the piper, bought and paid for, and you’ll have to play whatever tune she wishes.”

  Chapter Seven

  Victoria gave Fiona a friendly wave as she exited her office. The Scot had been taciturn all day, showing her displeasure at her boss’s choice of travelling companion by limiting their interaction to a bare minimum of words. Victoria decided to ignore her ill humour, trusting it would run its course by the next day. If not, she would say something, for there was too much work to do before they left.

  “Get me the drafts on the new mine site at Glenreagh, please, and have our itinerary ready so I can go over it tomorrow. I’m off now,” Victoria said.

  Fiona grunted.

  “I hope that meant yes,” called out Victoria as she walked to the lift. She looked at her watch. Just enough time to pick up some Thai takeaway and get home to change before Annabelle was due to arrive. She wasn’t looking forward to tonight’s encounter. Her friend had inundated her with text messages for two days to find out who was going on the trip. Fobbing her off hadn’t been easy, as each subsequent text became more demanding. In the end, Victoria invited her over. She knew Chantal was right. A heart-to-heart was long overdue. No use putting it off any longer.

  Victoria slipped into the shower; the cool water refreshed her physically, though did little to erase the feeling of disquiet. After changing into jeans and a T-shirt, she padded downstairs to the lounge. She didn’t have long to wait. She opened the door at the chime of the bell and motioned Annabelle inside. “Go into the lounge and I’ll get you a drink.”

  The redhead tucked her legs as she curled with grace into the cushions. Victoria handed her a glass and walked to the window to stare down at the traffic in the street below.

  “Well, I’m waiting, sugar. Which one did you choose?” Annabelle asked with a hint of impatience.

  Victoria turned back and tried to appear casual as she eyed her friend. “Relax for a minute. There’s plenty of time to talk.”

  She remembered the first time she’d met Annabelle. Orianis had just opened its office in Sydney and the attractive l
awyer was hired to negotiate the contracts. For the next two years, Annabelle continued as a consultant until they employed their own in-house legal staff. The two of them had remained friends ever since. Annabelle became an invaluable part of her life. With Victoria’s workload, she let the lawyer organize their outings, choose their friends.

  Not that they were ever lovers, although in the beginning Annabelle had tried very hard to bed her. But Vic knew to shy away from that final intimacy. She had seen her friend with women, her love-them-and-leave-them attitude too cruel and calculating. Victoria often wondered, with the myriad women Annabelle had had sex with, why she’d never found someone for a steady relationship.

  With an irritated shake of her head, Annabelle said, “Out with it. You’ve been ignoring me for two days.”

  Victoria stroked the textured back of the lounge chair before she sat down. “Who do you think I picked?”

  “What’s this? Twenty questions? I suppose it’s Karen, but Emily wasn’t out of the running.”

  “I’ll leave you guessing. Come and see us off Friday at the airport, it’ll give you something to think about the rest of the week.” Victoria’s voice was off-handed but she intently appraised her friend’s reaction.

  The lawyer stared at her, undisguised anger in her eyes. “Why the hell are you taking such an attitude? I’m your best friend. I’m entitled to be told.”

  “Why, so you can screw her before we go?”

  Annabelle’s eyes widened, her mouth tightened. “Excuse me? What did you just damn well say?”

  “You heard me.”

  Annabelle’s laugh exploded in the air like a bark. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  Victoria shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Anyhow, both Emily and Karen are straight.”

  “Well, what’s your problem?”

  “I’ve got no worries. Want another drink or would you prefer to eat?”

  “What’s wrong with you tonight? I demand to know who is going.”

  Victoria’s voice held a challenge and for an instant, bitterness. “It’s entirely my business. I’m taking control of my life from here on in. But I can tell you it’s not one of those two.”

  Annabelle flinched. “You’re taking Chantal? Why, so you can get back together after all these years? Rekindle your lost youth. Is that your plan?” Her voice changed into a pleading tone. “It won’t work, Vic. She’s not the one for you.”

  “What a load of crap. Who are you to think you’re an authority on relationships? You’ve never had one. Why is that? You’ve had sex with enough women.”

  Annabelle leapt up and paced around the room. “Why didn’t you ask me to go? I would have. What’s wrong with me, Vic?”

  Victoria narrowed her eyes. They were at the real issue. “Because no matter whom you meet, you can’t seem to keep your hands out of her pants! You’ve got a problem, Annabelle, so do something about it. Get some therapy. I’m serious.”

  Annabelle strode over until their faces were inches apart. “How dare you judge me, you bitch.”

  “Shouting at me won’t help. Go to a professional to sort out your problem.”

  The lawyer looked at her; resentment hardened her face. “I’m going home so don’t bother seeing me out. Have a good time with Chantal.”

  Victoria hadn’t intended to tell her, but the words popped out without thought. She regretted them immediately. “It’s not Chantal I’m taking. It’s Abby.”

  Annabelle whirled, her face contorted. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You prefer that frigid shit to me?” She raised her hand.

  A warning was growled. “That’s enough. Back off.”

  The arm dropped. “On second thought, you two will suit each other just fine. You’re both such cold fish.”

  And, without another word, Annabelle strode out of the room. The door slammed behind her.

  Victoria sank back in the lounge chair and took deep breaths. It had been worse than she anticipated. She hoped Annabelle would do something about her problem.

  * * *

  The rest of the week flew as the travellers gathered the documentation needed for the trip. Fiona regained a portion of her good humour, enough to avoid a reprimand from her boss. But she still went into a huff at the mention of Abby’s name. Victoria would have to ensure that her attitude changed; it’d be an uncomfortable trip if her two assistants were at loggerheads.

  “Is the itinerary ready, Fiona?” asked Victoria on Thursday morning.

  “Aye, here it is.”

  With the papers in hand, Victoria made her way to Malcolm’s office for the final briefing. He smiled as she entered.

  “Not long before you go, Vic. How’s the preparation going?”

  Victoria handed over the portfolio. “Nearly there. I want you to have a look at the dates. Barring anything unforseen, they should be okay. Fiona’s given us a few days leeway between countries. I thought we could take two weeks off at the end to do a tour of the Continent and the UK. Maybe spend a few days in Paris. We’re going to need it, judging by all the appointments she’s pencilled in. Work will be pretty full on in Asia.”

  He skimmed through the itinerary. “It looks fine. It’ll give Fiona time with her folks in Scotland as well.”

  “That’s the idea.”

  “Will you be ready to fly out in the morning?”

  Victoria shook her head. “I haven’t had time to pack. I’ve told Bruce we won’t be leaving until two in the afternoon. Fiona’s booked rooms in the town overnight and contacted Bill about our change of plans.”

  Malcolm pulled her into a hug. “I won’t see you tomorrow. Say hello to Bill and Ellen for me. They’re going to make sure you take the weekend off to relax before looking at the site. Keep in touch and have a good trip. Stormy days are ahead for you and Abby, so try to get on.”

  Chapter Eight

  Abby fiddled with her hair. The style was much shorter and, with the length gone, the strands floated in a mass of riotous curls around her face. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, she was keyed up about the trip. Excitement built all week at the prospect of travel; it had been years since she’d had the opportunity. When he was alive, her father, a cross-cultural business specialist, had taken his wife and daughter to live in Japan and China, plus a two-year stint in France. And now she was going overseas again. With Victoria.

  At the thought of Victoria, Abby resorted to bolstering up her dislike of the woman by conjuring up all her undesirable traits. Despite the defence mechanism, she actually looked forward to bandying words with her. Not that she liked Victoria any better. That would never change, but she’d be disappointed if she never saw her again.

  Friday afternoon finally arrived. Heavy clouds hung low with a promise of a late afternoon storm. Abby donned a flannelette shirt over the tank top and jeans. A limousine pulled up outside her house, and the driver shuffled her luggage into the boot. She climbed into the back to join her boss. Victoria frowned when she sank into the seat opposite. “Couldn’t you find anything better to wear?”

  Abby yanked at her seat belt, stabbed it into its slot and swept her eyes down the full length of the CEO’s body. “You could have put on a more sensible pair of shoes. They’re way too high for plane travel.”

  Victoria didn’t deign to answer; her stony expression indicated her elegant shoes were not up for discussion.

  Five minutes later a jingle sounded in the cab, and both women reached in their pockets. Abby, aware it was petty thing, still felt a stab of satisfaction to find it was her phone.

  “Hello, chérie. I’m just ringing to wish you bon voyage.”

  “Hi, Chantal. We’re in the limo heading for the airport.” She quietly chatted with the Frenchwoman as they sped through the suburbs. After she finally punched the off button, Abby said with a disarming inflection in her voice, “That was Chantal.”

  The muscles of Victoria’s face bunched. She stared out the window and ignored Abby for the rest of the journey.

  Fiona
waited for them outside the General Aviation terminal; her grey worsted overcoat and sensible black shoes merged in with the leaden sky. Abby studied her. Her features were regular enough and she had pretty eyes. A bit overweight, though better fitted clothes would help. Perhaps it was time someone jazzed her up. Maybe when they went shopping Abby could persuade Fiona to buy some new gear and get her hair cut into a more fashionable style.

  “Aren’t we flying commercial?” asked Abby.

  “We’ll be taking the company plane while we’re in Australia,” said Victoria and strode out to a sleek Gulfstream jet on the tarmac. Abby and Fiona followed in her wake.

  Adrenaline pumped through Abby’s veins; the adventure had begun and a corporate jet made it even better. She turned to Fiona, who carried a bulging briefcase as well as an oversized square handbag. “Let me take something for you.”

  The Scot eyed her with surprise. “Why, thank you, lass.”

  “No probs.” Abby flashed a complicit grin. “I’m here to help.”

  Two men and a tall blond woman, with Orianis logos embossed on their uniform pockets, stood beside the aircraft. Victoria introduced them as Bruce, the pilot, Marv, the co-pilot and Marcia, the in-flight attendant. The inside of the cabin left Abby gaping. The luxurious space was designed for comfort, with eight plush leather seats lining the aisle in twos. In front of the cockpit door was a well-stocked bar with three cushy stools. With some hesitation, Abby approached Fiona. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

  “Please do. I don’t enjoy flying, so I shall be pleased with the company.”

  “Very classy,” murmured Abby as she wriggled into the soft upholstery.

  “It is indeed. Let me show you how things work.” Fiona pointed to a feature on the armrest. “This control panel has a touch screen for the temperature, lighting, window shades and the entertainment screen. The plane has a wireless network and there’s a room at the back where there’s additional Internet service, printer and phone service.” She reached forward and pulled down the tray. “See, it’s wide enough to hold a laptop and papers.”