to working more closely with
you, Sam.’
Once he’d gone, she’d asked Myles to be excused from the project.
‘But he asked for you specifically, Sam. By name.’ Myles frowned as he studied her. ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’
Sam’s mind raced as she searched for a plausible excuse. ‘I don’t usually work with the political clients,’ she said, and gritted her teeth slightly. ‘I’m not
sure I can handle it.’
Myles threw her a disbelieving look. ‘What’s this really about?’
She should come clean, admit her mistake, Sam knew, but she couldn’t bear to see the disappointment on Myles’ face. ‘I . . . I don’t trust him, that’s
all.’
Her boss laughed. ‘Since when has that been important? I don’t trust a lot of our clients but I still work with them. No, you stick with Will Pargeter. I’ve got a feeling
he’ll be good for you.’
Sam had remembered those words a month later, when Myles had summoned her to his office and stared at her in thunderous silence from behind his desk.
When he did speak, his voice was like a whip. ‘Explain.’
She took a moment to compose herself before answering. ‘I know what you’re thinking, but he kissed me, not the other way around.’
Myles thumped the desk. ‘It doesn’t matter! What matters is that you were kissing at all. In the conference room, of all fucking places, where anyone could have walked in.’
Sam closed her eyes briefly, remembering the flash of panic she’d felt at the end of the meeting when she’d realised everyone else had left the room apart from Will. He’d moved
fast, trapping her against the table and before she could react he was pressing his lips upon hers. ‘I wanted to do this for so long,’ he’d murmured in anguish, before kissing her
again. ‘I can’t live without you, Sam, please stop punishing me. I’ll do anything.’
She’d twisted away immediately, outraged and furious, only to see Myles watching from the doorway . . .
‘I can assure you, it wasn’t my idea,’ she snapped. ‘I did try to warn you he couldn’t be trusted.’
Myles narrowed his eyes. ‘How long has this been going on?’
‘Nothing is going on,’ Sam protested. ‘Today was a one-off and, believe me, it won’t happen again.’
‘I’m not an idiot, Sam. Tell me the truth.’
She’d spilled out the whole story then, determined to defend herself.
‘I didn’t know he was a client until a few days later,’ she finished. ‘And I definitely didn’t know he was married. He lied about that.’
Myles rubbed his face wearily. ‘It doesn’t matter, Sam. Tongues are wagging already. If –
when
– this gets out, people are going to assume what I did – that
you’re having an affair. No one is going to believe you didn’t know he was married. I’m not sure I believe it.’
‘Honestly, I—’
‘You should have told me as soon as you realised who he was,’ he interrupted. ‘I might have been able to do something then, protected you or moved you to another office. Now I
don’t have any choice.’
Sam tensed, knowing what was coming next. ‘Myles—’
‘I’m sorry it’s come to this,’ he went on, looking as regretful as he sounded. ‘You’re one of the best PRs I have. But we both know you’ve got to go.
You’re a ticking bomb, Sam, and I won’t let you drag Brightman and Burgess into a scandal.’
She watched him in silence, digging her nails into her palm to stop the tears that pressed the backs of her eyes. She should fight, threaten unfair dismissal or a sexual harassment case, except
that all the details would have to come out and she’d be ruined. Unemployable. Not only that, but the lives of Will’s wife and children would be ruined too and she couldn’t have
that on her conscience.
Myles shook his head. ‘It’s easier if you resign. I can offer you six months’ salary in lieu of notice, if you pack your things and leave immediately. A solid reference, if you
want
Lynette Eason, Lisa Harris, Rachel Dylan