It was close to ten a.m. when Mr. Gregson arrived at the office after his morning appointment. Tessa could hear him greeting other employees before he reached her cubicle, his crisp British accent giving her a little thrill as usual. His voice was deep and cultured, and it never failed to enthrall her.
“Ah, His Hotness is finally here,” said Kevin in a stage whisper. “It’s show time, ladies.”
Six heads popped up simultaneously as Ian Gregson walked past their cubicles with his long-legged, supremely confident stride. He gave the team an almost perfunctory nod, greeting them with a “Good morning ladies. And Kevin.”
There followed a rousing chorus of “Good morning, Mr. Gregson”, including Tessa’s own softly murmured reply. And then he continued on his way to his office, leaving half a dozen admiring gazes trailing in his wake.
Gina sighed. “God, he just gets hotter with every passing year. Most men get fat and gray as they age but not him.”
“He’s wearing the Savile Row suit today,” volunteered Alicia. “And wearing it very well, I might add.”
Kevin sniffed. “We’d all look good if we wore custom sewn $5000 suits. Unfortunately, most of us are doomed to shop at Banana Republic for the rest of our lives.”
Tessa thought privately that even a moderately priced store like Banana Republic was way out of her budget. And the thought of spending $5000 on one suit was so far beyond her scope that she failed to comprehend the idea. Her entire wardrobe – including underwear and shoes – wasn’t worth the total of that sum. It was yet one more fact that widened the cultural gap between her and someone as splendid as Ian Gregson.
The rest of the morning went by quickly. Tessa had received the data she needed from Andrew, and was busily constructing the intricate spreadsheets. Though she didn’t consider herself to be especially brainy and wasn’t exactly a math whiz, she did enjoy working with the Excel program and the more detailed the worksheet the better.
But as she was reviewing the completed sheets before sending them on to Andrew, she frowned, for one of the pie charts didn’t look quite right. Remembering Mrs. Carrington’s teachings to proofread everything at least three times, Tessa checked and re-checked the data Andrew had sent her and was flummoxed over where the chart discrepancy was originating from. She hated to bother Andrew with anything, fearful that he would see her as incompetent. But she wasn’t about to send an incorrect file to Mr. Gregson, either, so she printed out the offending sheet along with the back-up data, knowing that Andrew would prefer looking at the physical sheets rather than a computer monitor. It was already past the noon hour, and half the team was at lunch. Marisol was off making photocopies, which left just Shelby and Tessa to mind the fort.
“I need to ask Andrew about one of these reports,” Tessa told her co-worker. “Are you okay here by yourself for a few minutes?”
Shelby visibly trembled at the mere mention of her tormentor. “God, poor you, having to deal with the Ice Man. Maybe you should put a sweater on so he doesn’t give you frostbite.”
Tessa merely smiled and headed towards Andrew’s office. The PA had his own private space just outside of Mr. Gregson’s commanding office suite, and the space was as tidy and organized as it always was. Except that Andrew himself was nowhere in sight. Tessa knew that he took his lunch break at precisely one p.m. every day, so she guessed he was off doing some task for Mr. Gregson.
She bit her bottom lip uncertainly, not wanting to just hang around as though she had nothing better to do. She was in the middle of jotting a detailed note to leave for Andrew with the reports when a voice from just behind startled her.
“Tessa. This is a surprise to see you here. Was there something you needed?”
She dropped the pen she’d picked up from Andrew’s desk abruptly, and looked up as Ian Gregson appeared by her side. Tessa felt like all of the air had been sucked out of her lungs, and she suddenly forgot how to breathe. He had this effect on her every single time she was within a few feet of him, and she felt her cheeks flush.
“Um, I was just leaving a note for Andrew, sir,” she murmured. “There’s a bit of a discrepancy with one of the spreadsheets he asked me to do for you.”
“Ah, well, we can’t have that, can we?” he replied in a gentle voice. “Why don’t you show me the problem and let’s see if we can figure it out, hmm?”
“All-all right.” Tessa struggled to maintain her composure, for she was hyper-aware of the man standing right next to her. With her sensible heels on, she stood at five ten, but he still towered over her by a good six inches. He had removed the aforementioned custom tailored dark blue suit jacket and hovered next to her in his shirt sleeves. She stole a quick glance sideways and had to stifle a gulp when she noticed how the fine linen fabric stretched across his broad shoulders and the wide expanse of his chest.