"Good morning, Miss McDonald. How was your trip home?" My secretary, Ruth greeted me as I walked in the door. I frowned at her, surprised at the formal tone. She was normally 'Ruthie', and I was 'Case'. She mouthed something which I didn't understand so I moved closer.

"Senior is here." She whispered. "And you know what he's like!"

I smiled. By Senior she meant Roswell Etheridge, the owner of our publishing house and my ultimate boss. He didn't come into the office very often which meant that something big was in the air.

"The last time he came in was for that Obama book." Ruthie reminded me. I nodded.

That had been a close run thing for the company. Roswell had come in to try and negotiate us handling a controversial biography of the former US president. He had been prepared to go to big bucks. Fortunately, his son Archibald (yes that was really his name!) was a little more savvy than his father these days. He made sure I had chance to flick through a portion of the book before the negotiations. I had found more holes in the facts than a lump of Swiss cheese and we pulled out of the deal at the eleventh hour. One of our major competitors had picked the book up instead and they were still recovering from the massive lawsuit publishing it had caused.

So you might think that Roswell owed me something…You'd be wrong. He treated me like a librarian.

I stuck it out in the company because the money was good, and I got on really well with my actual boss, Archibald. He was a good guy and came across as a bit of a flirt, but I knew he was happily married with two beautiful daughters in their late twenties. Some of the people less close to the action believed there was something going on between us. Elisabeth, his wife knew there wasn't. She and I had become close and she was one of the few non-family members who I had told about Derek.

I entered my office and placed my bag on the desk, removing the manuscript I had been working on while I was away. It was a final draft of a biography of a Wall Street high flyer and I was glad to be nearing the end of the projects. I knew more than I ever want to know about the world of derivatives.

Today was the first Monday in the month which meant there would be a planning meeting this morning to discuss new assignments. I always found these meetings quite exciting. They were the first step to my next obsession. Reading through a biography of someone's life, no matter what field they had made their name in, always led to my eyes being opened in some way.

I glanced at the clock, saw that it was ten minutes until the meeting and just as I processed that thought, Ruthie came through to remind me.

"I know Ruthie. I'm watching the clock." I glanced at the to-do list she had left on my desk. There was nothing that I could start before the meeting, so I decided to go up to the board room early.

"Ruthie, I'm going to go up now, get comfortable, look organised. Can you hold my calls until after the meeting?"

She nodded. "That suit is lovely. Is it new?"

"Thanks, yeah. I bought it last week in London. Oh. That reminds me, can you call Ed's secretary and find out about a gallery opening he wants me to go to? He couldn't remember the date off hand."

Ruthie beamed. She liked Edwin. She was probably ten years his senior but she still had a soft spot for him.

I switched my Blackberry to silent, grabbed my note pad and a fountain pen and headed on up to the fourteenth floor.

Archie was lurking when I got there.

"Hi sweet stuff. Did you miss me?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. He was twenty years my senior but I still ended up playing the parent.

"When your father hears you…" I started.

"Yes Mom!" he chuckled and held the door open for me as I reflected that when I was a teenager I wouldn't have understood the relationship I had with this man. I had been opinionated and full of righteous indignation over inequalities in the workplace. I had hated the idea of an older man flirting with the younger female employee. The old Casey would have reported most of the conversations which I had with Archie as sexual harassment.

But, I had been in an office environment now for twelve years. I had experienced real sexual harassment. It was nothing like the playful banter I had with Archie. Real sexual harassment had me crying the whole journey to and from work.

This was different. I was genuinely fond of him.

We took our places in the board room and awaited the others who were expected to attend. The editing staff numbered about thirty in total. Some people had specialties such as cookery and science, my specialty was biographies. It covered two of my big loves: reading/writing and research. I loved to check facts. Back in the days when we were still 'talking' (or rather screaming at each other), Derek called me a keener. He hated my attention to detail. But, it was my comfort zone. I needed to be sure of every word I put on the page.

It made me perfect for the job of editing.

"So. Anything big on the horizon?" I asked Archie, pouring myself a coffee from the selection of freshly brewed beverages lined up on the side.

He dumped cream into his own coffee and beat it with a spoon.

"Yup. A biggy. And I've put in a good word for you. So expect it to come your way."

I felt a thrill of excitement.

"A biography? Who is it? It must be big if Roswell's here."

"Oh it's massive. We have been courting this guy for the last ten fucking years."

"Language."

Archie rolled his eyes. "You're a prude, Casey. But I love you all the same."

"How is Elisabeth these days?" I said, smiling at him.

His eyes softened as I turned his thoughts to his beloved wife. "She's good. But moaning at not seeing you for so long."

"Soon." I promised. "Now who is this guy?"

Archie was about to answer when the door opened and people started filing in.

"You'll find out soon enough."


"…I think that covers all the main areas for the next month. Now, Mr Etheridge has come down to see us because we have had some exciting news about a new biography that we are going to be handling, subject to contract."

Archie always added those last three words when he was announcing new works. Everyone was still jittery over the almost-lawsuit. No one wants to get sued by a former President. Archie also called his father Mr Etheridge. He had once confided in me that he had made the mistake in his first meeting of calling Mr Etheridge 'my father'. After the meeting, his 'father' had taken him to one side and threatened to sack him for insubordination.

Roswell was a powerful man.

He stood up now and walked to the window.

"This new book is a big deal for me, so I don't want any cock-ups." He stated, playing with the drapes as he stared outside.

Then he turned and I wondered why he felt the need to look at me. I had been the one to save their butts last time. When he continued though, I did understand.

"Few of you will know that my mother was Canadian, and I have a deep love of that country."

This was news to me, and I am Canadian.

"So the fact that one of Canada's sporting legends has decided to publish his autobiography with us is a moment of unique triumph."

Okay. A sports biography. Not exactly up there on my choice of subject area, but, I could deal with that. And Canadian. That was good. Maybe the opportunity for me to spend a bit more time with Marti and Simon. If it was a sport I didn't know, maybe Lizzie or Robbie could help me familiarise myself.

Roswell finished his dramatic pause and went on.

"In particular, ice hockey has always been a passion of mine. I used to play once, you know." He patted his rotund stomach. Every one shuffled, were they supposed to laugh? He made the squeaky noise I had learnt to interpret as laughter and I joined in. Relieved, the rest of the room followed suit.

Then what he had said registered with me.

Ice hockey.

Well I knew a lot about ice hockey. Having an ex-boyfriend who, after I dumped him, had gone on to major league greatness in the sport had to help.

My heart stopped.

Oh Fuck!

I knew where this was going.

Mr Etheridge came back to the table and leant on it as his eyes roamed each and every one of us.

"Ladies and gentlemen. We will be handling the autobiography of none other than Derek Venturi!"

There was an audible gasp.

Did I mention that Derek had made it big?


We were still in the board room. We were still listening to Mr Etheridge. Only seconds had passed.

I was an immobile object. My body temperature had dropped five degrees and the shaking was about to start. Then I heard Roswell calling my name.

"Miss McDonald? Are you with us?"

I shook myself awake. "My apologies, Mr Etheridge, I was…erm…awe-struck?" I answered with a questioning tone in my voice. One of the junior members of staff sniggered.

"I was saying Miss McDonald, that you have the honour to be the primary editor on Mr Venturi's book. That is a great honour. Are you up to it?"

I gulped.

"Actually Mr Etheridge, I think…"

Archie stomped on my foot.

"Shut up!" He hissed. "You're our senior editor. You fucking deserve this."

I glared at him.

"The problem is Mr Etheridge, I think you ought to check back with Der- Mr Venturi's agent. He might not want to deal with me as his editor."

Archie was now looking at me as though I was insane. Mr Etheridge growled.

"Why?" The word echoed around the large wood-panelled room.

I closed my eyes briefly and cursed the day my mother had picked George Venturi for a blind date.

"He's my step-brother. And we currently aren't talking to each other." Let's keep it simple.

The room fell silent.

Mr Etheridge stood up straight.

"Miss McDonald. As my s- Mr Etheridge junior just so eloquently pointed out to you. You are our senior biography editor. Therefore you are the person most suited to the job. I expect a high level of professionalism within this company. Therefore, I suggest if you wish to retain your position of employment here, you find a way to start talking to your step-brother again, as soon as possible."

He made for the door, pausing to add as he went. "And your personal knowledge of Mr Venturi will mean you add a unique element to his autobiography. We could market the book as being a collaboration. It would raise our stakes in the publishing world."

He continued on his journey through the door.

The meeting was over.

As the heavy door closed behind him, every remaining pair of eyes swivelled to rest on me.

It was the High School Stair safety announcement all over again.