conversation."
My prayers were answered; I wouldn't be bored to tears listening in on a stodgy business meeting. "That's all right, I'll just look around the house. If you don't see me in an hour send in a rescue party."
"I promise to lead the party myself." Benson surprised me by lifting my hand to his lips and planting a soft, warm kiss on my skin. "Adieu for now, my Angel."
I stuttered out a nonsensical reply and he left me for his business. I didn't recover from the shock for a few minutes, and when I did I found my face was beet-red and the hand he'd kissed shook. I pressed it against my chest and fervently shook my head; I had to snap out of this schoolgirl attitude. He was just fond of me for being so nice to him, that's all. The poor fellow probably hadn't had a conversation with a stranger in years.
I opted to stay out of the creaky old house to keep from interrupting, or becoming a participant in, the phone meeting. Instead I wandered around the side of the house and came out at the circular driveway. At that moment I heard wheels on the gravel and saw a fancy black car pull up behind mine. A tall man of forty-five with gray-swept hair and a fancy suit stepped out. He frowned first at my car, and then at me when he noticed where I stood beside the front porch. "Hello there," he called out to me.
"Hi," I called back, and stepped out of the shadows of the house to greet him. I was Benson's secretary, after all; you couldn't spell secretary without security. Well, actually you could, but I felt a little possessive of my employer. He was a nice guy, after all. Yeah, that's it... "Can I help you?"
"I wanted to know if it was true that Constance Sievers quit this morning," he wondered. He was giving me a careful look-over that made me slightly hostile to him.
"I'm not sure what happened, but Mr. Benson is in a phone meeting and can't talk right now. If you'd like to leave a message with me I can give it to him," I assured him. I felt so grown-up talking to the guy like that; it almost made me squeal.
He firmly shook his head and shot down my self-importance. "If it's true that Miss Sievers is no longer in his employ then I must see who is."
"Well, I'm kind of in his employ right now," I replied.
The man blinked in bewilderment. "You?" He leaned his tall frame toward me and I leaned my short one back. "How old are you, Miss-?"
"Calhoun." And old enough to know he was invading my personal space.
"What is your age, Miss Calhoun?" he rephrased the question.
"Astral or physical?" I countered.
The poor man had another look of confusion on his face. "Astral?" he repeated.
"Yes. In a past life I was a three-legged dog."
"Cecil!" a voice cried from the porch, breaking off our weird conversation. Our heads snapped over to the front door and we saw Benson standing at the edge of the steps just out of the sunlight. He didn't look happy to see the man named Cecil. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Cecil straightened, and frowned at Benson. "I was informed by the secretarial service that Miss Sievers had quit her job."
"Not quit, fired," Benson corrected him. "And I won't need you to find me another. This woman here will suit me perfectly."
Poor befuddled Cecil whipped his head between us, and pointed an accusatory finger at me. "This girl? You wish to have this girl as your secretary?"
"Why not? If she's been talking to you for a few minutes she must have some spunk," Benson pointed out.
I puffed up at the praise; Cecil withered me again with his glare, and he shot one at Benson so murderous I don't know how the bullet deflected off him; it must have been his stoic manner. "We must have a discussion immediately," Cecil demanded.
Benson stepped aside and swept his arm toward the open door. Cecil stomped in, and Benson turned to me. "You can stay out here if you wish, or come inside and explore the house."
"Explore the house, I think Cecil just wilted all the flowers out here," I quipped.
CHAPTER 5
Benson