Chapter 1

"Hey you'll never guess what!" Peter exclaimed as he walked into the kitchen.

Miranda turned from the sink where she was peeling potatoes. "Well let's see," she responded dryly. "The lottery ticket we never bought has come up on this week's lottery, making us millionaires; so that I can sit down and put my feet up, while the new cook you haven't just employed is going to make us an absolutely delicious meal that will simply melt in our mouths." She raised her eyebrow hopefully.

"Don't be daft..." Her brother laughed. "Marcus Phillips is stepping in to take over the running of the company and he's invited me to interview for the position of his personal assistant."

Miranda's heartbeat quickened at the mention of Marcus Phillips, despite the fact that they hadn't met again since that party six years ago.

"That's wonderful news." She stepped forward to hug her brother, sharing in his delight at this opportunity.

"I've not got the job yet," he warned a little more seriously "But it's a real feather in my cap just being asked to apply for the position."

"I didn't realise that you had that much to do with Mr. Phillips junior?" she queried lightly.

Peter looked thoughtful for a moment. "I've only had a few dealings with him. He's actually been working away a lot for the last couple of years. But he always came in to the office to check on things and keep up to date with its setup when he was home, and I always seemed to be the one who was sent to assist him." Peter was thinking out loud and Miranda couldn't resist asking.

"By his request or just coincidence?"

"Coincidence I think..." He frowned a little. "I can't think why he would have asked for me personally."

"Well that's exactly what he's done now isn't it?"

"Yes but that's probably because I'm the person he's most familiar with by now," he argued.

"Well whatever the reason I'm sure that he would never have invited your application if he didn't think you capable."

"I certainly hope so, I don't know how many other people I'll be up against, but the fact that he asked me personally must mean I have a shot at it." Peter seemed to be asking for her encouragement as he felt the doubts begin to creep in.

"Absolutely," she declared with confidence. "He pretty much knows what he's getting with you already, so that must be what he's looking for?" she argued.

He grinned his relief at her kind of twisted logic, before turning towards the door. "Have I got time to take a quick shower before dinner?" he asked over his shoulder.

"I've only just started to peel the potatoes, so you've got bags of time."

"So, how did it go?" Miranda asked as Peter strolled into the kitchen.

He tried to keep a straight face and a glum expression, but the grin just broke through.

"The job's mine if I want it," he declared triumphantly.

"What? Just like that? What about the other applicants? Suppose there is someone more qualified, more, experienced?"

"There aren't any other applicants!" Peter told her excitedly. "At least not until I refuse it. Then they were going to advertise the position formally." Peter ran his fingers through his hair in disbelief. "Marcus told me that the time we'd spent working together told him all he needed to know about our compatibility - and my ability."

"This WAS a job interview and not a marriage proposal?" Miranda asked sarcastically.

Her brother didn't seem to hear her sarcasm though, as he continued as if she hadn't even spoken.

"He says that we'll work well together, that I won't need typing or shorthand, or any of those usual requirements of a PA. He says that there are enough typists already in the company." He took a deep breath and looked down at Miranda, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.

"It sounds like it's a done deal?" Miranda asked a little over brightly, her pleasure though was genuine - since she knew what this meant for Peter and his future prospects.

It seemed that just as Peter's star was rising, Miranda's was fated to fall.

The very week that Peter started to work for Marcus, Miranda went in to work to be told that the company was closing down.

"We've been struggling for some time now..." Mr. Harding her employer told her regretfully. "I was hoping that things would pick up but they never did."

"Oh John!" Miranda sympathised. "I knew that things were quiet, but I didn't realise that they were that bad; what will you do?"

"Well, Miranda!" he sighed. "I'm ready to retire any way, but I'm concerned for you and the rest of the staff ... what will YOU do?"

She smiled reassuringly. "Oh I'm sure that something will come up."

"And I'll at least give you all glowing references." He smiled a little apologetically.

Miranda laughed lightly. "That certainly won't hurt our prospects!"

When she went home later; and told Peter about her day; her younger brother was nothing but supportive towards her.

"You're so skilled, your speed typing and shorthand, the fact that you were Mr Harding's Personal Assistant, and your position was of such a confidential nature ... I'm convinced that you'll walk into another job ... Easy!"

"It might take a little time though..." Miranda fretted.

Peter smiled reassuringly at her. "With my salary increase, we can get by ... for a little while at least ... until you get on your feet again."

Miranda hugged her brother gratefully.

"Thanks Pete ... but I refuse to be a burden to you!"

"Hey now! Who was the one who supported me ... after mum and dad died suddenly like that, in that crash, and I was only half way through college ... I should have given up; and gone out and got a job; but it was you who wouldn't let me!"

"Well we had this house, and the inheritance money more than covered your fees, and living expenses; and I was working ... it made sense that you finished what they had worked so hard to give you!"

"Don't you make out it was so straightforward!" Pete over ruled her. "I know that it took weeks for all the legal stuff to get sorted and that YOU had to cover the mortgage payments – and YOU had to phone the college and work out some payment schedules with them ... You thought that you were protecting me ... but I wasn't stupid or blind..." His eyes suddenly looked suspiciously moist. "There was nothing I could do to help you, so like a first rate wimp, I hid behind you and let you shoulder the responsibilities."

"You were so young Peter ... and you were still reeling from mum and dad!"

"And so were you! You lost your parents that day too!"

"Yes ... well..." Miranda thought that this conversation was getting a little too heavy for comfort. "It all worked out in the end, the insurance finished the mortgage and so we own this place outright." She smiled as she glanced around her at their little three bedroom house, the house they had grown up in. "And I absolutely refuse to sit idle." She declared resolutely.

"So what will you do?"

She tapped the paper in front of her. "I picked this up on my way home, they had lots of job vacancies in it, so I'm certain that there's at least one or two that I can apply for."

"So let's take a look then – shall we?" Peter said brightly as he scraped his chair alongside hers.

She smiled gratefully at him, as she turned back the pages.

Half an hour later, Miranda was feeling more than a little bit depressed.

"Three possibilities!" she sighed in disappointment.

"Well three is better than none ... and you only need one – if it's the right one!" Peter encouraged.

"You're right Peter ... I know that you're right." She sighed again but this time it was resignation. "Okay, I'll write a letter to each of them, and put a copy of my curriculum vitae in with them."

"Have you got one?" Peter asked suddenly.

"Yes ... John Hardy let me do one at work and printed off fifty copies for me ... he said you can never have too many..." she smiled fondly.