She couldn't think of any reasonable excuse, so she just nodded and let him call the waiter.
"Two more." he ordered, "Hope you don't mind?"
"No, not at all, thank you," she stammered.
"How do you like your new job?" he asked, his face frozen in an obvious appraising grin as he openly admired her.
"It's very nice," she said in the same unsteady voice, "It's new, but I'm sure I'll like it very much."
She knew that her answer didn't hold much enthusiasm, but she didn't know what to tell him after only two days. She wished that Jessica would come in, because when her fictitious friend didn't show up, she wasn't sure what she could do.
"I spoke to Jessica yesterday afternoon after you started and she spoke very highly of you."
She knew that this could be a lie, but then again, Jessica would be the type of person to go to bat for someone she barely knew.
"She's a good friend," she answered, mainly because Jessica was the only friend she had in London.
"You seem upset," he continued, "is something the matter?"
"No… nothing," she barely whispered, knowing that her nervousness was showing through.
"Well, relax, you'll do just fine and a drink will cure any jitters you may have."
She finished her drink and started on the second, the alcohol warming her considerably. She wasn't quite sure what it was about the office manager that made her nervous and ill-at-ease, but his eyes seemed to look right through her, undressing her and baring her very soul.
"We're one big happy family over there," he said, gesturing to the gray limestone building across the street. "Anything that I can do to help, just let me know."
She had been warned about him and perhaps that was why she was on her guard, but more than anything, she didn't want him to think that she had come over to the pub to be picked up. He might get the idea of a frustrated divorcee that most people believed. She almost laughed at herself… frustrated… her husband had called her frigid!
"You're a very beautiful girl," Mr. Wiles said, staring at her voluptuous rounded figure. She wished that she had worn something a little less snug, but she had never worked in an office before and she couldn't afford a new wardrobe right now.
"Thank you," she muttered. "You're very kind." She couldn't understand the men in London, she had never come across anything like it in her life.
She was finishing her second drink and looked at the door nervously, hoping that a friendly face, someone she knew from the office, would come in and rescue her.
"Looks like your friend may not come," Mr. Wiles said. "Let me buy you another drink."
"No…. no, really, that's all right," she stammered.
"Come on, I know the salary I'm paying you and you can't afford to buy your own drinks."
He signalled the waiter to bring another round so she just sat there.
She did feel more relaxed, but she knew that it was just the liquor, and she couldn't afford to offend the boss right now, she didn't have another job lined up.
So, Gillian picked up a cigarette and put it to her slightly pouting lips, when he reached across the table to steady her hand as she lit it nervously.
"That's a man's job," he corrected her. "Never light your own cigarette when there's a gentleman around."
She laughed, because she never would have lit her own cigarette at home, but once again, Peter came back into her mind and she couldn't allow that.
"This is all so new to me, and everyone has been so kind. I guess that I'm just a country girl, so please excuse me."
"Don't worry about it, you have plenty of time to get informed, and I must admit that you're most refreshingly naive!" Mr. Wiles grinned at her.
She couldn't get over his rugged good looks, his savoir-faire as he spoke as though no one would dare contradict him. She had thought that Peter was the most sophisticated man she had ever met, but really, Loughborough wasn't much of a town and there wasn't much competition, and Mr. Wiles was so much more polished than any man she had ever met, so very expertly polished!
His very presence made her feel inadequate, but the drinks were making this tete~a-tete more of a game than anything else. She almost laughed aloud and asked him if he would like to go to bed with her. She knew his reputation, but maybe he was all talk. She knew that she could never follow through, and his reaction would probably be one of shock, but then she may lose her job, so she decided against it.
He didn't say much, but just looked at her. She knew that he found her attractive and this was a new, wonderful feeling. Peter had treated her so crudely ever since he had started his affair and finally had to marry his 'other woman', so that it was almost a challenge to her ego to prove to herself that she was still an attractive and desirable woman.
She no longer was looking at the door, but told him that she was afraid she would have to go now, for she couldn't wait any longer for her 'friend'.
"That's great," he said cheerfully, "Now you can drink and have dinner with me!"
"I'm afraid not," she replied. "You're my employer and a married man, I'm sure, so it wouldn't be right."
"Say – you're a real country girl, aren't you?" he laughed. "All right, no strings attached, even though you are the loveliest thing I've seen.
I promise that I'll be good,, but please join me for dinner!"
The way he said it. it sounded almost like a plea, his eyes were downcast, and for the first time… shy. In spite of his ruggedness, he had a boyish quality about him that she did find attractive and where else did she have to go except back to the hotel?
"All right," she laughed. "I'll have dinner with you, as you say, I can't afford to buy my own, but no more, then I really do have to go. I must wake up early, you know!"
"It's a deal!"
He reached across the table and took her hand and squeezed it, more like a father than a lover, and she felt that perhaps in some way she really was doing him a favor.
They had several more drinks before they left for dinner, and Gillian felt all dizzy by the time they got out of the pub.
"I've made reservations at a Chinese restaurant I know, hope you'll like it"
"I like Chinese food," she told him as he helped her with her coat – actually, she had never tasted it before.
He hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address. At least I won't have to walk tonight, she thought.
The restaurant was in a small hotel in Picadilly and completely decorated in exquisite Chinese style and everything typical of how she had pictured an Oriental place.
"I live here when I spend my nights in town," Mr. Wiles volunteered, " and before you get nervous, they do happen to have the best Chinese food in town!"
She was in a part of London she knew nothing about, and his comment had indeed made her feel apprehensive, but his manner was so cool that she decided that she could always take a taxi back to the residence hotel or ask someone where she could get a bus when dinner was over.
"If you don't mind, let me order for yon," he told her, snapping his fingers for the waiter.
"Not at all," she said, and he ordered their meal and two bottles of a special Chinese liquor – very light, he assured her.
She had never drunk so much as she had in the past two days, at least not in a row, and her head was light again, but. didn't seem to bother her tonight the way it had the night before.
The impeccably dressed and starched little waiter gravely poured the colorless liquid and Mr. Wiles toasted her then sipped his own drink.
"Many happy days," he said, as she took her first taste of the stranger liquorice-flavored beverage. It didn't taste like it had any alcohol in it at all, but she had never drunk much except on special occasions.
They finished the bottle before the dinner arrived, and by now, Gillian wasn't sure that she could eat very much, she felt so gay, so carefree that food didn't matter.