Page 46 of Bad Luck Bride (Scandal at the Savoy #3)
“I am. I must find a way to earn a living.”
“You realize taking up a career will only give the papers more meat to feed on?”
Kay couldn’t help a laugh. “What can they say about me that’s worse than what they’ve already said?”
Delia acknowledged the truth of that with a grimace, and Kay went on, “I’ve decided I can’t marry merely for material considerations.
I’ve tried that twice, and I won’t make the mistake of trying again, even if the opportunity arises, which is more unlikely than ever now.
Taking up an occupation is the only thing I can do at this point.
The thing is, I’ve never worked a job in my life.
I need to find one, and I don’t even know how to begin looking.
Or what I might be qualified to do. I was hoping you could offer me some ideas, some guidance based on your vast experience—”
Delia’s merry laughter cut her off mid-sentence, but if she thought her friend was laughing at her, she was soon proved mistaken.
“Darling Kay,” Delia said with affection, “I can do far better than offer you guidance! I can offer you a job.”
“You can?” Kay looked at her friend doubtfully. “I don’t want it if you’re just being kind. I genuinely want to be useful.” She made a rueful face. “For once in my life.”
“Kind?” Delia echoed and laughed again, as if heartily amused by the notion that she was some sort of Lady Bountiful.
“Kindness has nothing to do with it. And if you don’t believe me, just look around.
” She lifted her hands, gesturing to the folders and letters on her desk and the crates on the floor.
“I am in desperate need of a secretary, as you can see.”
Kay laughed a little, too, out of surprise more than anything. “I daresay you do,” she acknowledged, “but I have to warn you, I don’t know anything about being a secretary. I’ve never used a typewriting machine, or taken dictation—”
“Oh, don’t worry about any of that. You can compose letters on my behalf as well as anyone, and you can handwrite them until you’ve mastered a typewriting machine.
They have classes where you can learn typing and shorthand, so you can take a course in your spare time.
And even if you don’t take courses, you certainly won’t be any worse than me, because I can’t type, either.
I’ll pay you twenty pounds a month. And don’t worry about where you’ll live either. You can live here.”
“Here?” Kay blinked. “You mean here at the Mayfair? Oh, but I can’t afford that. And I can’t take charity—”
“It’s not charity. It’s not,” she insisted as Kay started to argue.
“When I worked at the Savoy, they provided my rooms in the hotel as part of my compensation. When Ritz offered to take me to Paris, he offered the same. This sort of thing is done all the time. Not for maids or footmen or waiters, obviously. But for managerial staff, it’s quite common. ”
“As your secretary, I would be part of the managerial staff?”
“Absolutely. Once you learn the ropes, you will have authority to make decisions on my behalf. In light of that, I am happy to provide a suite for you, your mother, and sister, but it’ll have to be our least desirable one.
It’s on the top floor, so it’ll be beastly hot in summer, and there’s no view and no balcony.
And the bathroom is down the corridor. But it’s got two bedrooms and a sitting room, and it’s yours if you want it. ”
“Oh, Delia,” she breathed, laughing, her relief so great, she felt dizzy. “Are you sure? Shouldn’t you ask Simon first?”
“Ask Simon?” Delia echoed in lively surprise. “Heavens, no. I’m the general manager, so Simon has given me authority to make all hiring decisions here, and I want to hire you. But,” she added as Kay opened her mouth to accept, “there is one more thing that needs to be addressed.”
Kay felt a hint of alarm at her friend’s suddenly serious expression. “What’s that?”
“Devlin is a member of the board. Wilson’s not; he’s only a minor shareholder and has very little say in things, so you don’t have to worry about him. Devlin, however, is another matter. He is vice president of the company.”
Kay tried to imagine Devlin objecting to Delia hiring her, but though she had once thought him vengeful enough for something like that, in light of everything she knew now, Kay could not even begin to imagine it.
Far more likely he’d spend the next month or two proposing marriage every fifteen minutes.
“My concern,” Delia went on, “stems from the fact that there are several projects Simon wants Devlin and me to handle for the company before Devlin returns to Africa, but I just can’t find the time.
As my secretary, you’ll have to work with him on those projects in my stead. Will you be able to do that?”
She didn’t have much of a choice. “Of course.”
“I only ask,” Delia added, “because you and Devlin haven’t been rubbing along very well since his return.”
Kay’s mind flashed back to that extraordinary kiss on the terrace at Ivywild, where they’d rubbed along a bit too well, but with an effort, she kept her face expressionless. “That will not be a problem,” she said firmly.
“Are you sure? Think about it. You might be seen together, and that will be cause for curiosity and gossip.”
“We’ll be careful.”
“Also, you two will have to find a way to get along and work together. And if he gives you an order, you’ll have to follow it. No crying to me.”
Kay drew herself up. “I would never do such a thing.”
Delia clapped her hands together, obviously delighted. “Then you’ll take the job? Please say yes. Otherwise I will have to stop procrastinating and begin the tedious task of finding someone else.”
Kay didn’t hesitate. “I’ll take it.”
“Excellent.” Delia turned in her chair, bent down, and began rooting around beneath her desk. After a moment, she straightened again, a massive stack of folders in her arms. She plunked them down on top of the others cluttering her desk with a thud. “When can you start?”