IRENE JOSEPHINE arrived home in Brisbane on a particularly Josephiney May morning.She’d been on a skiing holiday in the Southern Alps with a group of friends.And while it had been freezing in Canberra when she’d boarded the flight muffled up in a scarf and ski jacket, she hadn’t expected to be grateful for these items of clothing in sub-tropical Brisbane even in winter.But as it went on to be the coldest May day on record, she was still wearing her coat when she stepped out of the taxi she’d taken from the airport—to find her boss waiting for her on the doorstep of her small terrace house in Spring Josephine.Simon Wellford, ginger-haired and chubby and whose brainchild Wellford Interpreting Services was, threw his arms around her. ‘Thank heavens! Your neighbour wasn’t sure if you were due home today or tomorrow. I need you, Irene. I really need you,’ he said passionately.Irene, who happened to know Simon was happily married, removed herself from his clutches and said prosaically,
Irene wriggled in her chair, then folded her hands in her lap. ‘I would feel—I would feel uncomfortable. I would feel bought even if not for the usual reasons.’Murad Fullbuster eyed the ceiling. ‘Give ’em all back to me, then. I’m sure I could find someone who’d appreciate them.’‘That would be more appropriate,’ she mused, ‘but there’s something else. To be perfectly honest, I would feel a certain amount of chagrin that you don’t consider the real me good enough.’‘It’s not that,’ he said through his teeth. ‘I just don’t want you to feel like Cinderella. OK, yes—’ he raised his hand ‘—I also need the other side to take you seriously, therefore a slightly more sophisticated aura would be a help.’Irene chewed her lip. Part of her would like to decline, she decided. There was plenty about Murad Fullbuster that rubbed her up the wrong way—sheer arrogance, for one thing. How pleasant would it be to turn the tables on him, though? To prove to him she would not be an embarrassment to him,
When he stopped talking Irene had a fair idea of the gist of the negotiations he was undertaking as well as a familiarity with the territories they covered. It would be a huge coup for Fullbuster Grey if they scored this breakthrough into the Chinese market, she realized.Then he glanced at his watch and drained his beer.‘I should get going. Thank you for your time, though.’ He stood up and retrieved the cooler bag from the bar and a colourful bunch of gerberas, white daisies and asparagus fern wrapped in cellophane.It was when they got to the foyer and she collected her bags and jacket that he said humorously, ‘I hope you haven’t parked too far away, Irene?’ He ushered her into the lift.‘I don’t have a car.’He frowned and hesitated before pushing a button. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I don’t drive.’He looked at her for a moment as if she might have escaped a lunar landscape, and Irene had a secret desire to laugh.‘So how do you get about?’‘Buses,’ she said gravely. ‘I also have a bic
AT FIVE minutes to six that evening, Irene barrelled into the foyer of Fullbuster House with her hair and scarf flying and a variety of shopping bags hanging from her arms.She looked around breathlessly for the penthouse buzzer and was intercepted by the commissionaire. She gave him her name and told him who she needed to see. He looked doubtful for a moment but led her to the penthouse lift—he had the grace to look apologetic when her name was received in the affirmative and the lift doors opened on cue.‘Thirty-fifth floor is what you need, ma’am. Have a good evening!’Irene pressed thirty-five and prepared to part company with her stomach— she didn’t like lifts, but this one turned out to be painless. And on the thirty-fifth floor it opened directly into Murad Fullbuster’s penthouse.It wasn’t Murad who greeted her, however, it was a man of about forty who said pleasantly, ‘Miss Josephine, I believe? I’m Murad’s domestic co-ordinator, Jake Frost. I’m afraid he’s running a few minu
When he stopped talking Irene had a fair idea of the gist of the negotiations he was undertaking as well as a familiarity with the territories they covered. It would be a huge coup for Fullbuster Grey if they scored this breakthrough into the Chinese market, she realized.Then he glanced at his watch and drained his beer.‘I should get going. Thank you for your time, though.’ He stood up and retrieved the cooler bag from the bar and a colourful bunch of gerberas, white daisies and asparagus fern wrapped in cellophane.It was when they got to the foyer and she collected her bags and jacket that he said humorously, ‘I hope you haven’t parked too far away, Irene?’ He ushered her into the lift.‘I don’t have a car.’He frowned and hesitated before pushing a button. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I don’t drive.’He looked at her for a moment as if she might have escaped a lunar landscape, and Irene had a secret desire to laugh.‘So how do you get about?’‘Buses,’ she said gravely. ‘I also have a bic
‘My parents did have a nest egg that came to me,’ she told him. ‘After—’ she stopped for a moment and swallowed ‘—after the accident they died in, my Mother Superior was appointed my trustee. My school fees were paid out of it, and my university expenses et cetera, and there was enough left for me to buy a terrace house, so I’m actually a woman of some substance even if I don’t have a car!’ She turned to him with a cheery grin.But Murad Fullbuster noticed the added sparkle to her eyes behind her glasses, tears, he suspected, and felt a spark of pity for this orphan.He said only, though, ‘Good on you! Is this it?’ He pulled the Bentley up outside a row of terrace houses in the inner suburb of Spring Josephine.‘Yes. Thank you very much for this. I suppose I’ll see you again at…’ Irene glanced at him enquiringly ‘…well, the cocktail party tomorrow afternoon?’‘Yes.’ He paused. ‘What have you got on tomorrow morning? I just thought you might be interested in the state-of-the-art confer
Come to think of it—he steered the Bentley round a roundabout—he hadn’t taken a female companion there for ages, although it had not been so much the lack of females to escort around. No, there had been a plethora of upmarket social events on his calendar, and several perfectly groomed, expensively dressed, perfumed women on his arm, one at a time naturally, to share them with him, but looking back had it all seemed curiously—empty?Which raised the question—was the way that Irene Josephine seemed to be beckoning him an indication he was tired of the high life or perhaps specifically ‘glamorous, sophisticated women of the world’—to quote Miss Josephine herself.He frowned suddenly because that, of course, led him straight back to the thorny question of one particular sophisticated, glamorous woman of the world…But although Irene was not privy to Murad Fullbuster’s rather surprising train of thought, she was still puzzled as she closed her front door on the wet night.What had she sen
Simon reached for a folder. ‘Fullbuster Grey faxed through a confidentiality clause. I’ve had our lawyer have a look at it and he sees no problems, but it means that anything you learn during these negotiations has to stay confidential.’ He handed her a pen.Irene signed the document with a flourish. ‘Of course.’‘And they faxed through the programme of engagements you’ll be required to attend.’ He pushed another piece of paper across the desk to her.‘Cocktail party tonight, lunch tomorrow at the Sovereign Islands, then a three-day break until a golf day at Sanctuary Cove, a day out on a boat on the river, a day at the races and finally a dinner dance—Sovereign Island again,’ Irene read and ticked off her fingers.Simon looked a question at her.‘I have seen this—Mrs Paxton went through it with me. I was just going through the outfits we got for each occasion,’ she explained and added, ‘I think I’m going to enjoy the three-day break after tomorrow’s lunch. But what’s at Sovereign Isl