He arrived back from his lunch and went into his office. He checked his Emails, and made a call to his mother.
He was a big man, six foot six, and broad. He had short slightly unruly fair hair and a slightly battered face from his rugby days. He had been almost good enough to play Rugby for England a few years ago, but his work came first, and he decided to stick to his job, and was now a very wealthy young man. He would turn out for the occasional game for his club, the Saracens, but was not often available. He was thirty, and nurtured an image of respectable power. Always dressed in the best suits, and driving the best cars, he was the epitome of the successful yuppie.
On a personal basis, he was rather lonely. He told himself that he didn’t need the complications of a relationship, and indeed his lifestyle was hardly conducive for a stable domesticated relationship with a woman and children.
However, in his heart, he yearned for a family. He longed to have a woman to whom he could come home, and children to whom he could pass on the skills and knowledge of life. He also craved love and affection.
His secretary came into his office with some mail.
“Thank you, Mary, any more interpreters?”
“Just one, Glenda called to say there was a girl booked for three o’clock.”
“Girl, how old?”
“I think she was early twenties, I’m not really sure. Glenda put the details on your desk.”
“She’s probably another insipid bloody graduate with no experience of life. Well, we can only give her a try.”
“Yes sir.”
Mary then left the office. She was wary of her boss, as although he paid well, he was prone to sudden mood swings. When things were going well he was great, but he was very unpredictable when things went badly.
At two thirty, she was completing a document on the computer when the personnel manager, Glenda, came into the office. Following close behind her was the tallest girl she had ever seen; she was also the most stunningly beautiful.
She was wearing a very smart looking suit, in navy with a pinstripe, comprising of a skirt and jacket. Her pale blue blouse was silk, and she wore a stylish cravat/scarf at her throat. Her long blonde hair was neatly arranged up, appearing to have been recently set, and very professionally too. Her make up was discreet, yet accentuated her amazing blue eyes and high cheekbones. Mary noticed the girl’s long, elegantly shaped nails were varnished, but in a clear, natural hue.
Everything about her screamed ‘elegant sophistication’ and she smiled warmly at Mary, who felt positively dowdy in comparison.
Michelle had spent nearly all the money she had on her hair, makeup and clothes. Being so tall presented quite a problem on the clothes front, as she had found only a couple of stores that catered for the taller woman. She had nowhere to stay, and just enough money left for one decent meal.
“Mary, this is Miss Czakan, she is here for the three o’clock interview. Is Mr Fenwick in?” Glenda said.
“Yes, I’ll see if he is free.”
Mary knocked and entered the office, seeing her boss staring out of the window.
He didn’t turn round.
“Yes Mary?”
“The applicant is here, she is a little early, do you want for her to wait?”
He looked at his watch.
“No, I’ll see her now. Send her in.”
Mary retreated, yet he was still staring out of the window.
“He will see you now,” she said, rolling her eyes to Glenda to show the mood of their boss.
“Thank you,” said Michelle, heading straight into the office. Mary closed the door behind her.
Gordon was still staring out of the window.
He turned and looked at the latest applicant.
For a moment, he was completely stunned, as he had already formed an impression in his mind’s eye of a small shrew like creature, with a squint and bad teeth. Nothing prepared him for the vision that stood before him, staring him straight in the eye from the same level.
Feeling confused and embarrassed at being so wrong footed, he fumbled for the necessary forms on the desk.
“Please sit down, Miss, ah, ah, Miss Czakan,” he said, mispronouncing the awkward name as Cha-kan, as he found the document. He sat behind the desk, and watched as she sat in the chair opposite him, and delicately crossed her silk clad legs. He felt increasingly uncomfortable under her direct and seemingly unshakable stare.
“That is pronounced Zha-kan,” she said.
He read the form and asked some basic questions about her background. Michelle enjoyed the feeling of power she held over this man. He was so obviously surprised by her appearance, and also apparently attracted to her, that he was slightly tongue tied and rather awkward.
She spoke in perfect English, allowing a slight American accent to sneak in along side the Ukrainian. Many East Europeans leaned English from an American source so that it was not unusual.
“May I call you Michelle?”
“I’d prefer it,” she said with a smile, so he smiled in return.
“Parlez vous francais?”
“Certainement monsieur,” she said, without hesitation, and with a faultless accent.
He conducted part of the interview in French, and then switched to Russian. His Russian was basic and not fluent, whereas he recognised that she was both fluent and very used to it. He began to warm to the girl. Not only did she look wonderful, but she also had all the language skills he had been so desperately seeking.
Part of the package involved the scrutiny of documents, and so he passed her a legal document written in Russian.
“Can you translate that for me?”
“Of course, into English or French?”
He smiled.
“Both?” he said, and she smiled calmly, proceeding to rapidly read the document in English, and then in French. Her translation was perfect, so Gordon found himself grinning broadly.
“Wonderful, when can you start?”
She smiled. “I have exactly eleven pounds to my name, how about now?” she said.
She explained her passport difficulties, which caused Gordon to frown. The United States were awkward about such problems, but he had had dealings with the Home Office before, so knew someone in a position who may be able to help.
“You have the job,” he said.
They spent some time discussing salary and other related matters. As soon as he mentioned a salary in excess of £30,000, she had to calculate it across in to dollars. It came to around $55,000 a year. That was more than she earned as a cop.
“I have to admit to being concerned about your immigration status, particularly in respect of the USA, so if you wait a moment, I’ll see what I can do about your passport. Leave me the H.O. reference numbers, and go and have a seat. I hope this won’t take long.”
She left his office, leaving him the papers, as instructed. Gordon rang his friend in the Home office.
She was on her second cup of coffee when Gordon came out of his office to see her. Mary frowned, as this was unusual, for he would normally have people ushered into his office, rarely coming out to them. She glanced at the girl and smiled. No wonder, he was smitten, she thought.
“Michelle, good news, I’ve arranged for your passport to be hurried through. They’ll send it by special delivery to this office, so it should be here in a couple of days. It’s rare for anyone to have their papers processed as quickly as yours seem to have been. What extra deal did you make?” he asked with a smile.
She simply smiled and his heart melted.
“I just asked nicely,” she said.
“Ah, where are you staying?” he asked.
“I’m between places right now,” she admitted.
Mary found she had some urgent business in the post room and left them to it.
“Well, I’ve a spare room in my flat, if you don’t mind sharing?”