Good Deed Bad Deed, Marcia Morgan [summer beach reads TXT] 📗

It does sound like it could be fun, if it works out. I promise that if he comes in this afternoon, I’ll broach the subject with him. I’m not looking forward to that, but he might surprise me. I’ll guarantee him that if he’s swamped when I get back, I’ll work overtime and make up some of the time, even if he won’t pay me for it.”

“That sounds like a good enough deal for him. I’d give you the time off!”

“I know him well enough by now to know that if something’s free, he’s all for it.”

“Call me the minute you know.”

Olivia assured her that she would be in touch, and they parted in different directions. It had turned into a long visit, and she half hoped her boss wasn’t in yet, because to ask a favor on the heels of a longer than permitted lunch might not be the best choice. She took long strides walking the two blocks back to her workplace, glad that they had agreed to meet at a café that was fairly close by. The office door was still locked. Her boss and the other assistant were evidently still at lunch or out seeing a client. Olivia unlocked the door with her own key and then busied herself unwrapping and cataloging the fabrics that had been in the morning deliveries. Soon she heard voices in reception and went to see who had come in. The owner of the design firm, Mr. Cole Saunders, was talking to a man delivering another parcel. Their brief conversation ended, the man left, and Olivia asked Mr. Saunders if she could have a word. He ushered her into his office and sat down at his desk. She declined to take a seat and then began to speak, first having taken in a deep breath.

“I have a request— a big one, actually— and I know you have every right to refuse, given that I’ve only worked her for a bit more than a year.”

“Let’s have it— nothing ventured, nothing gained.” He motioned her to get on with it and looked down, shuffling papers on his desk and opening the folder directly in front of him. Then he stopped abruptly and looked up at Olivia as he said, “Well then?”

“I was waiting for you to finish what you’re doing.” He settled back in his chair, indicating that he was now listening, so she continued. “Let me preface this by reminding you that I haven’t taken any time off during this year, other than those three days when I had some kind of flu.”

“Yes, I remember, and I’m aware you’ve been diligent— and, may I say, popular with the clients you’ve assisted.”

“Thank you, Mr. Saunders. I enjoy my work. But here’s the thing: My sister-in-law— ex-sister-in-law actually— has asked me to take a trip with her… to Spain. She’s been going through a rather stressful time, and we’ve remained friends, even after she and my brother divorced.”

“I don’t need to hear your family history. The reason for your request is less important than getting a few things straight about what your absence would mean. How long would you be gone?” Before she had a chance to answer he chimed in again. “I hope you know that I wouldn’t consider paying you for that time, if I even agree to let you go. You haven’t yet earned even a week’s paid vacation.”

Olivia informed him that she hadn’t expected to receive paid vacation, and that she had worked out her finances in a way that would make the trip possible. He didn’t need to know that Valerie was treating her to most of it. She had only enough for some meals and maybe a few small gifts for her family—maybe Mr. Saunders as well. She sat down in the chair opposite his desk and waited while he tapped a pencil on the desk and pursed his lips in thought. Several minutes passed before he sat up straight, put down the pencil and leaned forward, his elbows on the desk.

“Go. We’ll manage. Ten days is the longest I can let you be gone.” He wagged his finger at Olivia and spoke like a Dutch uncle. “Don’t call me then and try to weasel more time out of me.”

Olivia thanked him profusely until he told her to please leave his office so he could get some work done. On her way out he added that if she didn’t get all the new fabrics catalogued by closing, she would have to stay. She hurried out of the office and into the back room, where she worked diligently until the last bolt was correctly placed in its cubby. She glanced at the clock on her desk and saw that it was after five-thirty. Her workday was at a close.

On the way out she peeked into Cole Saunders’ office and waved goodbye, mouthing “thank you” to him before closing the door. He was tied to a call with a supplier in China, which was immediately obvious to her because he was speaking Mandarin, only one of the five languages in which he could converse. Once on the sidewalk, she realized that the usual three-block walk to the Tube seemed too far in the humidity that had risen during the afternoon, even if she cut through the little park. She decided to wait at the corner for the next bus that would take her close enough to her flat. The wait was short, and soon she climbed aboard, deciding to take the stairs up to the open-air level. The bus moved in stops and starts, block after block, while Olivia enjoyed the brief periods of cooling wind in her face. As the bus approached her destination she walked carefully down the stairs, ready to hop off quickly.

Within another ten minutes Olivia was unlocking the door to her flat. She pulled open the drapes in the small sitting room and unlatched the window to let in some fresh air. She took in