False Identity

 From a writing exercise / prompt that started with – Gillian said that…

there was an impossibly handsome man waiting in the lobby downstairs.

“He has the most delicious accent too, I think he might be Italian.”

Rose frowned. “Can you describe him?”

“Sweetie, I just did.”

She sighed. “I can think of two Italian men who may have reason to visit me, who I’m confident you’d describe as handsome. One of them is someone I can’t speak with unless you want me to break the conflict of interest clause on that contract Mr Gracey had you tweaking all last week. The other one is fine.”

The PA plonked herself back against the desk and pursed her lips. “Oh. Well that’s awkward.”

“Did you get a name?”


“Fine. I’ll have a quick word with Mr Gracey and then go downstairs.”

Gillian shot upright. “Oh no, no, you don’t need to do that. I’ll just pop down and say you’re busy or something and see if I can take a message.”

She scampered off as Rose sent a ‘thank you’ after her that somehow managed to not come out sounding sarcastic.

Peter leaned over the cubicle divider. “That was amusing.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “She’s a lovely girl but it’s times like this when nepotism really shows itself up.”

“So says the Earl of Radcliffe’s daughter.”

“Who got this role under an assumed name and then had the combined HR and Legal teams in a complete tizzy when I let them know the truth and asked for my employment contract to be made out in my name, rather than my grandmother’s.”

“You never.”

“I totally did. Janice in HR didn’t speak to me for a year.”

“You know, the problem is, that you just don’t look anti-establishment.”

“All the better to infiltrate my dear.”

“You don’t look like the big bad wolf either.”

She grinned, showing her teeth.

“Okay, maybe you do.”

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