Chapter Seventeen - Undercover Agent - Monday Christian's office at GEH
Judith knocks on my door and comes in with a fresh coffee that I hadn't asked for.
"Sir, I apologize. There's a woman here waiting to see you. She arrived some time ago. She said not to worry; that she has an appointment and that she was early. I checked your calendar and there is indeed a G. Jones with an appointment. I don't know how I missed it."
"What firm does she represent?"
"I don't know, sir. I'm so sorry about this. What should I do?"
"Describe her?"
"Blonde, thirties, well dressed, confident."
I wonder if it could be… "Show her in."
I'm up and meet G. Jones… Mrs. Gail Jones… at the door. I wave Judith off.
"You didn't have to come all the way down here to see me…" I reflexively look at my Rolex watch. She made my breakfast just a few hours ago. "By the way, how did you get in?"
"I used the house tablet that syncs with your work schedule. I added myself in a blank slot." … "I am unsure if I can work for someone… so… young."
She's phrased that discretely. She lowers her voice.
"I need to see for myself how you interact with employees… the people, the men… and the women… who work for you. I arrived early so I could observe the women who work in your office."
"And?"
"I'd like your blessing to take Judith to lunch. I presume, as your Personal Assistant, she's also signed a NDA."
"You have a lot of demands." I'm pushing back but she's right. If I'd known, I might have required Judith or someone else to sell her a bogus script. I wouldn't but right now everything I say is suspect.
"With your permission, sir."
I buzz Judith on the intercom. She makes her appearance shortly.
"Judith, this is Gail Jones… my executive chef and household manager. You spoke to her on the phone. She has my offer pending to continue her position permanently. Please show her around. You may answer anything she asks. You both have my complete confidence. Is the conference room available? You may use it to talk in private. Maybe you'd like to have lunch in the atrium… on my account."
"And Judith… Would you have my lunch sent up, please?"
"Of course, sir. What would you like?"
"What ever soup the chef has today and a chicken salad sub."
Judith motions for Mrs. Jones to precede her through the door.
There's a knock on my door. It's Judith.
"Mrs. Jones has gone sir. She asked me to thank you for the tour."
"Come in." I motion her to pull her chair close to my desk. "What did she want to know?"
"To tell you the truth, sir, I'm not sure. I feel like I've been through a test but I'm not sure what for."
I know for what. She might as well put a neon sign on her forehead. She wanted to see how I treat my employees. Mrs. Jones references including running restaurants… surely she will know that not every employee will like the boss. I look for the best and brightest in my employees, nurture them and reward them well. Still, I'm under no delusions that they actually like me. Respect me, yes. Fear me, if they're smart. Like me, probably not.
"Where did you go? What did you do? I want to know it all." I can't work without information.
"We went to food services first. She selected the tomato basil soup for you and added the fresh fruit."
"I'd never have selected that soup," I grumble.
"She said as much but thought you'd like it, if you tried it. She had the same meal."
"Lucky for her, I did like it."
Is she gathering information on me just as I am on her? Well, of course, that's why she came.
"She wanted the full tour so we visited every department. She asked about the plantings in the atrium and lobbies."
"She gardens as a hobby."
"We viewed the fitness area. She checked out the facilities, read all the employee program listings on the board."
"We toured the Child Care Center. She appreciated all the natural light. She was inquisitive about the nursery and day care. She noticed the Closed Circuit cameras and I explained the parent's have live video feeds. Does she have children?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"It seemed like that might have hit a nerve."
"She's widowed. I don't believe she's seeing anyone."
"She asked if you were seeing anyone."
Here it is… she waited until the end to ask the primary question. Did I cross that line with employees? My PA couldn't help but be aware of any office romances and probably outside romances too. It's why she came. But I don't do romance. I'm keeping that tid-bit from her.
"I have never known you to show romantic interest in any employee… or anyone actually. So it was easy to answer honestly."
She doesn't dare say it. The question even my mother won't dare ask. 'Are you gay?'
~~~ Escala . Monday evening
"Welcome home, Mr. Grey. May I take your things?"
The suit is gone and Mrs. Jones is back in her working attire. Today it is a dark green, almost black, A line skirt, her signature starched white blouse, a dark linen bib apron. In addition to her diamond stud earrings, a fine silver chain with a diamond pendant is at her throat. She's dressed up for me.
It's just five thirty. "I'm going to change and workout in the gym downstairs. Dinner at seven?"
"Yes, sir. Dinner at seven."
That wasn't too awkward. The truth is I am trying to stifle my irritation. Even as I respect her point of view, it's hard work keeping the frost out of my voice.
I drop my briefcase in my office before I change into my workout gear… all freshly laundered… and head down in the elevator. I note with an abstract interest that she did not neglect her daily tasks here, despite her foray into undercover work today.
Nearly an hour later, I'm hot and sweaty, headed back up to my Penthouse… workout completed but still in limbo with the tenacious Mrs. Jones. While my body took the punishing workout, my mind replayed events on an endless loop. She discovered my play room under unfortunate circumstances. Her objections are personal, integrity based. I made my best case for personal liberty with a consenting adult… behind a closed door.
I will not try to bribe her with more money. I haven't mentioned the vehicle I'll be providing… if she stays… because will that just seem like a different flavor of sweetener. This about her principles. Money isn't the issue.
I have acquiesced to all her requests. She's met Brandy. She's interrogated my staff. And along the way she's met my family… no thanks to Elliot. She should have enough information. I'll give her twenty four hours and then I'll ask her for a decision. Yes, I need to get back in control. If she's leaving, I'll begin the interview process again. I wonder if I'll need to go to a different recruitment agency this time. I don't want to get a reputation as an employer who can't keep help. There would always be the suspicion of impropriety.
My mind made up, I climb out of my shower. How did I get into this situation? I grab a fluffy towel from the rack. She does a nice job with my fluffy towels. I'll miss her.
I throw on my casual pants of finest cashmere and an equally casual pull over shirt. A few swipes with a comb through my towel dried hair and I'm ready to eat. I can smell dinner already. Pork roast if I'm not mistaken… its mouth watering.
I appear and Mrs. Jones offers me a choice of beverage while I wait. I accept a glass of Sancerre which comes with crackers and cheddar. I turn my chair to watch through the room divider grid as she works seemingly effortlessly in my kitchen.
She presents me first with a fresh garden salad with cubes of cut up red apple for sweetness. I dribble the sweet vinaigrette dressing. She appears with my dinner; slices of roast pork tenderloin, oven browned little potatoes, roasted vegetables: garlic cauliflower and sliced Decicata squash with a side dish of apple sauce. A variable smorgasbord of flavors.
"Desert, sir"
"What do we have tonight?"
"Yellow butter cake with chocolate frosting. It's a classic, sir."
"I look forward to it."
She brings me a generous wedge. Two layers. It's delicious.
"A glass of milk would go good with this."
A glass of cold milk appears. It tastes like a childhood birthday party.
