Paying Her Debt (2 page)

For one moment the image of just that tickled her mind. She had
nothing against Alexander Iannou. She’d never even met him, but the whole
concept of his store offended her. He catered to the sort of people who thought
nothing of dropping hundreds of pounds on bloody fish eggs! Sneering at the
help, aka her, as they did so.

Still, it made more sense to sort through the recycling boxes and
take the opportunity to rest a little. “Okay, Rick, if that’s what you need.”

He smiled and Andy could see he was relieved. “Good stuff Andy.
Now I better get going, I’ve got so much to do! If only we’d had a little more
warning.”

He bustled off, and Andy collected up her boxes before wandering
off to the back. She glanced around, startled by the sudden increase if
activity around her. Workers hurried across the store, shirts patted down, and
smiles fixed into place. Clearly everyone knew of Iannou’s reputation and
wanted to impress. She was suddenly glad to be hiding out in the storeroom.

There’d be no need for her to impress anyone back there.

Chapter
Two

Alexander Iannou shut his phone and let out a sigh. It had been
one call after another ever since he’d landed, and he was at his limit. Why did
his staff feel he needed to know every little detail of every little thing?
Surely they’d heard him when he’d told them to deal with things themselves for
the day?

The phone vibrated again. Clearly bloody not. He flipped it back
open and barked down at the person on the other end. In a matter of moments
they hung up, persuaded by the wisdom of coping alone. Alexander growled, his
fist clenching tightly around the phone. Wasn’t delegation supposed to be about
easing some of the pressure from him? Wasn’t that what he paid these people
for? Clearly he’d need to have firmer words, either that or hire different staff.

He relaxed his grip on the phone, and looked out of the tinted
windows, frowning at the view in front of him. A classic little town, complete
with maple trees and laughing children. It was the perfect place for a man
wanting to settle down, to put down roots as his
Yiayia
had suggested, and
he should be happy to have arrived. Only he wasn’t—happy or looking to settle.
He was restless and angry all at once. More than anything he wanted to get back
on the plane and home to his apartment in the city.

“We’re nearly there, Alex.”

He nodded to George and buttoned his suit jacket. It would never
do for Alex’s staff to see him looking less than pristine. George did not
count, the two had been together since he was old, and rich enough, to need an
assistant, and were friends more than anything else. He counted on George to
advise him and, when necessary, talk some sense into him. George was Alex’s
right hand man and owned almost twenty percent of the company, and was the
person he trusted above all others.

The people at his newest Finest Foods store were another matter
entirely.

George pulled up next to the local barber shop without Alex
needing to say anything. This was their drill, catch them unawares, see what
they were about when not being inspected. It might seem a little harsh to some
but the Finest Foods stores were one of his most successful business projects,
and Alex was set on getting them all up to the same high standard. It was,
after all, the guiding principle of the whole operation. Top notch products
aimed at the more affluent members of society, somewhere people could pick up a
bottle of champers and a packet of cigars without feeling guilty. Finest Foods
had revolutionized that section of the retail market and his competitors were
snapping at his heels trying to catch up. Alex had no intention of letting
them.

“What’s the drill today?” George asked as they left the car.
“Same as always?”

Alex shook his head and pushed his wallet further into his front
pocket—damn thing was too big and wouldn’t stay put—and pointed to the front of
the store. “They expect us to go in from there. Time to shake things up a
little. We’ll go round the back and through the storeroom. See things from that
angle for once.”

George nodded agreement and the two set off across the parking
lot. Checking his watch, Alex was slightly surprised to see half past four.
He’d planned to arrive at least and hour and a half earlier. But planes could
never be counted on, even when you owned the airline.

“I’ve heard good things about this one,” George said, gesturing
to the huge building they were now approaching. “Profits should pay for the set
up within the year, no?”

Alex nodded. “Let’s hope so. It certainly helps that this area’s
swimming in cash. Well, this part of it at least.”

George shrugged. “Every area has its rough parts, Alex, can’t be
helped.”

“True. Thankfully we’re smack in the middle of the good part.”

“You’re happy with the team in place?” George asked.

“So far it looks like they’re up to the job.”

“Then why the need to inspect it?”

Without conscious decision, Alex’s hand went to the wallet crammed
in his front pocket. There, nestled in tissue paper, was the reason for
returning to this small town, and the reason he’d taken to carrying the damn
wallet around with him.

He doubted anyone, least of all his employees, knew that his
Yiayia
hailed from here. She’d spent most of her childhood in a ramshackle farmhouse outside
the town’s border, and had spoken of her time in the small town as one of the
happiest of her life. When her parents moved the family back to Greece she’d been heartbroken. 

Alex gritted his teeth as he recalled his promise to her, the
last words between them. Even George, his best friend, was not privy to their
conversation. Part of Alex was still too angry to discuss the promise he’d
made, and part of him was just plain reluctant. He’d do what he promised the
old woman. He owed her that much and his honor demanded it, but once the year
was out he’d return back to his own life—the one he’d built from scratch.

He rubbed the wallet once more and turned to George. “I’m
planning to spend some time here in the old house. I need to ensure everything
is up to scratch. It would be ridiculous to have my local store below par.”

George laughed. “Planning on doing a bit of shopping here
yourself, Alex?”

“Maybe,
Vre
, maybe.”

The back entrance to the store was strangely quiet. The staff no
doubt all deployed out front for his benefit. Only one old-timer—looking every
one of his eighty plus years—sat in a deck-chair, greeted them. He showed
little surprise at his visitors, more interested in the newspaper laid out on
his knees. No, he might not be surprised but Alex was. He thought he’d have
been spotted by now. Though, in all likelihood, the management team was poised
and ready next to the huge front doors awaiting his arrival—never suspecting
that he’d go round the back.
Which was the whole damn point.

George cast an eye over the neat lines of produce waiting to be
stacked out front.  “Everything looks in order,”

Alex wandered around the outside wall, taking everything in.
George was right, despite the lack of back room staff, everything looked how it
should, like a well run machine. Clearly, his people were doing a good job.

He continued his tour alongside the interior wall, moving boxes,
checking the stock levels. Did the store have enough reserve? Was that
cherry-picker aligned properly? “George—”

A murmur caught his attention, and Alex halted his words. What
the hell was that? He rounded the corner of a hefty loading tray, piled high
with cardboard boxes, and paused trying to identify the sound. There it was
again, a sort of low sigh. Alex frowned and moved a large box aside.

The sight that greeted him was so odd that for a moment he
wondered if he was seeing things. He ran a hand over his eyes and shook his
head. No, it was exactly what it was—and disbelief filled him.

“
Dios
… what the hell?” George had joined him, and he too
looked down, shock evident, before laughing softly to himself. “Well we’ve
never seen that before. Is she..?”

Alex’s nodded. His voice deadly. “Looks like.”

“What do you think we should do? Get the manager…or….”

Alex shook his head. He knew what course of action to take. “I’ll
take care of it.” And he bent down, laid one tanned hand on the crisp white
shirt of the woman in question, and gave her a gentle shake.

The first employee he’d ever had to fire for sleeping on the job
opened her eyes wide and gasped.

Chapter
Three

For a moment, a moment she wished was real, Andy thought she was
dreaming. She opened her eyes to their widest point and gasped. No, it wasn’t a
dream. There really was a man looming over her—and he had the harshest
expression on his face she’d ever seen. It didn’t take more than a second for
her to realize what happened. There in the meager comfort of a hundred
cardboard boxes she closed her eyes for the smallest of minutes and fallen
asleep.

On the job.

Panic flooded her, the nasty kind. The kind that kept her awake
at night worrying how to pay the bills, only magnified like a gazillion times
over. Horribly flustered and embarrassed Andy made a move to stand up, but the
man—whoever he was—kept his grip on her shoulder preventing her from rising.

“Miss….” He glanced down at her name tag. “Jones. Would you like
to tell my why you’re asleep on my time?”

She stared up into his eyes, saw the disapproval in them, and
looked quickly away. Gaze landing on his hard body she took in the pristine
suit, white shirt and navy tie. The very air around him pulsed with authority
and awareness came to her in an instant. Andy’s stomach sunk to her knees.
Please
do not let it be him.
“I—”

“Yes?”

What the hell could she say? Especially to him? The boss man. The
situation was just as bad as it could possibly be, and Andy wished the ground
would open up in front of her and scoff her up like a fat man at the all-you-can-eat
buffet.

“I’m assuming you were asleep,” he said, “and not a victim of
some sort of concussion or something equally as awful?”

Could she lie her way out of this?
Have I got the balls?

“I’m assuming that because of the contented little sighs you gave
when I found you,” he added. “In my experience, people suffering from a blow to
the head, or a dead faint, do not sigh happily from it.”

His heavy Greek accent only added to the sarcasm dripping from
his tone and Andy knew with a deep certainty that there was no chance of
getting anything past him. She’d fallen asleep, the months of constant
exhaustion and pain finally took their toll, and now she’d have to suffer the
consequences. Perhaps she could plead her case? Sure she’d cringe from the
embarrassment of admitting the truth, but it had to be better than losing her
job. “Mr. Iannou?”

He nodded sharply.
Damn, just as she thought.

“I’m so very sorry, I—”

A hand halted her words, the other finally removing itself from
her shoulder. “Perhaps you should stand up, Miss Jones. Your skirt seems to
have hitched itself up. Either that or this store is flaunting my uniform
code.”

Andy gasped, looked down and felt the color flood her cheeks. Her
skirt had indeed risen up, a good several inches in fact. Both of her thighs
were completely exposed, the skirt only just hiding her panties. “Oh my God….”

The man standing next to Iannou coughed, a hand covering his
mouth, though Andy could see the merriment in his eyes. So he thought this was
funny, did he? She’d never been more mortified in her entire life.

“I’m so sorry, of course.” Clutching the side of the loading tray
Andy hauled herself up, batting her skirt down as she did so. Her shirt had
also un-tucked itself, and Andy quickly straightened it up.

“Your hair.”

Those were his only words but they were enough for Andy to realize
her fiery locks escaped the neat braid she tied them into every morning. She
smoothed her hands over her head, and all the while played out various little
speeches in her mind.
I’m so sorry but I’m exhausted. I work two jobs to pay
debts that aren’t even mine. I sleep for five hours each night if I’m lucky.
I’ve reached the end of my tether.

She frowned. No, that was not true. She wasn’t at the end yet
damn it! At twenty-seven, she was young enough to work this pace for at least
another five years. By then, the worst of the debts would be paid, and she
could ease off the gas, maybe begin to think about building the business back
up again.

“Mr. Iannou,” she began, but he held a hand up to halt her words.
Again.

“You were sleeping on the job, Miss Jones. The first employee
I’ve ever found to do so. I have to say I am very shocked.”

A new wave of embarrassment washed through her. “Yes sir, I’m so
sorry it was an accident, I would never—”

“But you did.”

“Yes, but—”

“But what?”

Andy clenched her fists. Would she ever be permitted to finish a
sentence? Damn, he was high-handed, as difficult as his reputation suggested.
Would he even let her explain? “I know it looks bad sir but I—”

Again he held up a hand, and Andy wanted to scream. Panic jittered
its way around her stomach, combined with the embarrassment and the anger it
was not a good mix. She felt like she might throw up, or God forbid, faint.
Neither option was likely to help her right now.

“It doesn’t look bad, Miss Jones. It is bad. I do not allow my
employees to sleep on the job. I pay you for your time, do I not? Sleeping
during that time is highly disrespectful. Not just to me but to your
colleagues.”

Shame burned her “Of course it is,” she agreed. “It’s just that—”