Only Lover

Fiona stood up, smiling self-derisively. ‘I thought I must have been wrong. None of us ever see the great man. I've never set eyes on him, and I've been here nearly four years.'

‘Rather elusive, is he?'

‘Elusive! The man's positively unattainable.'

‘But he's very friendly with Laura Bennett,’ Farrah pointed out, ‘so he can't be that unattainable.'

‘His sleeping partner, in more ways than one,’ scoffed Fiona. ‘I've always said business and pleasure shouldn't be mixed, and they're a good example.'

Farrah looked up now as Tracy beckoned her to the internal telephone. ‘Joel Falcone's office,’ she said in awed tones.

Farrah quickly took the receiver, turning away from the several pairs of eyes that had turned to look at her at Tracy's outburst. ‘Yes?’ she said breathlessly.

‘I want to see you now,’ came the cool clipped tones of her employer.

‘Now?’ she repeated stupidly.

He gave an impatient sigh. ‘Now, Miss Halliday, don't keep me waiting.’ The telephone clicked down firmly at the other end.

Farrah looked about her awkwardly, quietly making her excuses to leave the office before the girls’ curiosity got the better of them and they actually started to ask questions. She almost ran out of the office, getting into the lift and pressing the button for the fifteenth floor. Her heart began to beat erratically, sounding like a bass drum to her ears. The procedure of yesterday was repeated, except this time she wasn't kept waiting but was shown straight into Joel Falcone's spacious office.

Again as yesterday, he was seated behind the huge imposing desk, but dressed less formally, the dark grey business suit of yesterday discarded in favour of a black silk shirt opened casually at the neck and black trousers that fitted closely to his long muscular legs.

His eyes narrowed appraisingly as he took in her own appearance and Farrah put up a nervous hand to ruffle her short cherubic hair. It was an endearing gesture, and made those icy blue eyes narrow even more.

‘Miss Halliday,’ he said deeply.

‘Mr Falcone,’ she replied huskily. ‘I—er—– You asked me to come.'

‘Of course I did, Miss Halliday, I'm not so ancient that my memory fails me,’ his mouth twisted mockingly. ‘We have a conversation to finish.'

Farrah blinked nervously. ‘Yes, Mr Falcone. You—um—you said you had something to think over.'

Joel Falcone stood up, his tall lean frame even more intimidating as he came round the desk to stand in front of her. ‘Won't you sit down. Miss Halliday?'

She looked round at the leather armchair just behind her, dropping down thankfully into its luxurious depth and then wishing she hadn't as she realised how much smaller it made her feel as she looked up at him.

He began to pace up and down the office, emanating a completely masculine aura as he occasionally looked at her before turning frowningly away again. Suddenly he stopped in front of her. ‘Tell me, Miss Halliday—what do you think of me?'

Farrah looked at him open-mouthed. Whatever it was she had been expecting it certainly hadn't been a question like this. ‘Wh-What do I think of—of you?’ she asked hesitantly.

Icy blue eyes pinpointed her to the chair and Farrah moved back involuntarily. ‘Yes, me Miss Halliday, not Joel Falcone your employer, but Joel Falcone the man.'

What on earth was he talking about? Farrah felt completely bemused. She didn't quite see what this conversation had to do with her father and the taking of this man's money. ‘I don't quite see …’ She shook her head.

‘No one is asking you to. Answer the question, Miss Halliday.'

Farrah looked at him closely to see if he was mocking her, but his expression was unreadable. What could she say about such a man, especially to his face? Her cheeks blushed a fiery red and she sat forward uncomfortably. ‘Well, I—I don't know what to say!'

‘The truth would perhaps be preferable,’ he drawled dryly. ‘Speak up, girl. I don't bite—well, not babies like you anyway, and certainly not in these circumstances.'

She blushed again, looking away from his taunting face. ‘What am I supposed to say? You know what you look like, so why ask me?'

Joel Falcone sighed in exasperation. ‘I don't mean my physical looks—well, perhaps I do, but I don't mean the fact that I have dark hair, am tall, of Italian descent from my skin colouring, and look my age. I want to know how you feel about me, how my looks affect you?”

‘Well, for a start you don't look your age, experienced and—cynical and—–'

‘Yes? Well, don't stop now. This conversation could be the deciding point of your father's immediate future.'

‘Oh! Oh well, in that case,’ she looked at him critically. ‘You're cynical most of all—and rather condescending. And arrogant. But you're attractive too.'

‘Oh, I'm glad about that,’ he interrupted mockingly. ‘Let's concentrate on that, shall we?'

‘All right. Well, you have a sort of magnetism, animal magnetism I think they call it. And your features are ruggedly attractive, not handsome, you understand, but very attractive.'

Joel Falcone walked back around his desk and sat down again, smiling slightly at her embarrassment. ‘So we have established that you don't find me repulsive. That's good—in the circumstances. And I—I don't find you repulsive either. Too young for my taste, but then only I know that.’ He was talking quietly to himself again. He looked up at her. ‘Sorry, honey, I was far away.'

Farrah shrugged her shoulders. ‘What's all this about, Mr Falcone? I don't understand you.'

‘No, I don't suppose you do. But you will—oh, believe me, you will. Do you know anything about my personal life?'

She hadn't, but during the last twenty-four hours she had learnt that he had more than just a business relationship with the other owner of this firm, the actress Laura Bennett, but they both had other relationships. She paled. Surely he wasn't interested in her that way? Hadn't he said she was too young for him? But he had also said she wasn't repulsive to him. When she said anything yesterday she hadn't meant anything!

‘Relax, Miss Halliday. And as you don't seem to have an answer I will assume that you have heard a little about me but don't feel able to reveal it,’ he laughed harshly. ‘Why you should feel so reticent I have no idea. You've already called my cynical, condescending, and arrogant, so why draw the line at my private life?'

Her green eyes sparkled at his intended mockery. ‘I said those things because I know them to be true. The things I've heard about your private life are exactly that, hearsay. I don't feel able to judge you on that.'

Joel Falcone's mouth tightened visibly and Farrah flinched from his icy gaze. ‘I'm not asking you to judge me on anything,’ he snapped coldly. ‘You are hardly in a position to judge anyone.'

Farrah sprang agilely to her feet, sparks of anger shooting from her eyes. ‘You're cruel, Mr Falcone!’ she choked.

He smiled, a slow leisurely smile that taunted and mocked. ‘Yes, I'm that too. Sit down, Miss Halliday,’ he said harshly, all humour leaving his face to be replaced by a cold mask. ‘You asked for my help when I would be quite happy to let the law deal with your father. I thought I had found a way to help him and myself at the same time. It seems I was wrong.’ He stood up in conclusion of the interview. ‘You wouldn't be co-operative, and a sulky angry companion I can do without.'

All anger left Farrah at his dismissive words and her shoulders slumped dejectedly. She dropped back into the chair. ‘Please, Mr Falcone, I—I didn't mean to lose my temper. If you have some way of helping my father then I'll gladly help—co-operate, whatever,’ she said anxiously.

‘You really are desperate, aren't you? Very well, we'll get back to my private life. You have no doubt heard of my long-standing friendship with Laura Bennett.’ His mouth curled back sneeringly as she blushed. ‘I thought so, it seems to be public knowledge, wouldn't you say?'

‘Yes,’ she agreed softly.

‘Yes. Well, up until now it has been a very—intimate relationship, shall we say? Yes, very intimate.’ Joel Falcone obviously felt no embarrassment at his conversation, but Farrah blushed fiery red. ‘I see you understand my meaning,’ he taunted. ‘And while Laura may be satisfied with that sort of close business and personal arrangement, I find that it no longer suits me at all.'

Farrah felt tempted to ask what this had to do with her, but she resisted. She daren't anger this man any further. ‘Yes?’ she prompted.

He sighed deeply. ‘So, I'm completely bored by the whole tedious affair.'

‘Then why carry—–? Sorry,’ she bowed her head, ‘I didn't mean to pry.'

‘Why carry on,’ he finished for her, feeling none of her embarrassment. ‘I've asked myself the same thing many times. I don't have an answer—except perhaps that Laura seems to deliberately ignore any hints I may give about breaking up our relationship. At the begining I needed a hostess, I entertain a great deal, and I suppose you could say I used her. But whereas the affair seems to have cooled on my side, Laura seems determined to make something more permanent out of it. Needless to say, I don't want that. I want her out of my life once and for all.'