Page 47 of Broken Beyond Repair

She’d come to enjoy spending hours upon hours a day playing with words on her laptop. Over the last few years, the urge to write had increased, and the more she wrote, the more it called to her. It was beginning to act like a drug, all culminating in her need to take time off to get a much-needed hit. If only she could make writing pay as well as being a PA.

“Here. Pull over,” Beatrice hawked from the rear.

Sydney pulled the car into a lay-by outside a new office block as instructed. A young man and an older woman were standing by the kerbside, their eyes fixed on their mobile phones. The woman spotted them and approached the car, opening Beatrice’s door.

“Well, look at the state of you.”

“Thank you, Ali,” Beatrice replied dryly, passing out her crutches to her agent.

“Bright pink, nice choice,” she snarked as she assisted Beatrice from the car.

“Find somewhere to park. I’ll call you when I’m done,” Beatrice instructed Sydney, the door immediately slamming shut behind her.

Sydney watched as Alison and Beatrice made their way inside the office building, Alison with both their handbags over her shoulder. The woman wasn’t quite what she had been expecting. She put Alison in her mid-sixties; her short, grey pixie cut hardened what otherwise would have been a kindly face. The young man was no longer with them. She glanced around to see where he had gone, only to find him getting into the passenger seat beside her with a large boutique bag.

“Ah, the new PA. I’m Tom, Alison’s assistant.”

“How do you know I’m new?” Sydney asked as she pulled the car out of the lay-by.

“Because all her PAs are new,” he sniggered. “We have a bet running in the office on how long you’ll last. We’re amazed you’ve lasted this long, actually. I guess you’re not Peter’s type.”

“What?”

“Have you not met him yet?” Tom nodded. “That explains why you’re still here.”

“I’ve met him.”

“Then you’re definitely not his type.” Giving her the once-over, he added, “Strange, ‘cos you’re pretty. I thought any PA with a pulse and a pussy was his type. Maybe he hasn’t had the opportunity yet. I’d watch your back.”

The realisation of what Tom was saying hit her. “Does she know?”

Tom scrunched his lips. “Doubt it. Would you wanna tell her?”

Was this why Beatrice couldn’t hold down a PA? Her creepy ex would show up and proposition her PAs, or worse, assault them? He’d only made inappropriate comments towards her, and she believed him capable of going further given the chance.

“I met him once,” she admitted. “He made my skin crawl.”

“You and every other PA.”

“Does Alison know?”

“If Alison knew, Miss Russell would know.”

“Every PA?” Sydney asked, able to believe it, yet not wishing to.

Tom nodded. “Pretty much. It’s why we expanded the search to find you. We don’t normally use your agency for our clients. Your boss was super keen to make a deal.”

Sydney rolled her eyes at the thought of James salivating down the phone when he received the call.

“Word spreads in the PA world, you know,” Tom said, pointing out the window. “Take a right down here; you can usually get away with parking there.”

“I keep myself to myself,” Sydney replied, cursing her work ethic. The thought that Alison’s employees were throwing young women into Peter’s path rather than addressing the problem made her sick to her stomach. “Surely Alison must know?”

Tom shrugged. “She knows more than anyone that Miss Russell is a bit of a ball breaker. She probably thinks they run a mile when they realise they aren’t up to the job — as I would guess Miss Russell does too.”

“Something should be done,” Sydney said, bringing the car to a stop alongside the kerb.

“Indeed. It won’t until someone stands up, though. People are fearful for their jobs. It’s their word against his; not one of them will have a queue of women behind them to back them up. They’re more likely to call you a liar. Who wants to employ a PA involved in a case of sexual harassment? It’s easier to move on. I have a few calls to make,” Tom said, stepping out of the car and leaving Sydney to churn over her thoughts.