Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [16]
“You don't paint a very comforting picture of my new boss,” Brenna said wryly.
“I didn't mean to,” Walters said bluntly. “If you need a security blanket, you have no business around Donovan. He'll tear you to pieces.”
“I can believe that,” she said with a shrug, remembering Donovan's steamroller tactics in her own case. “Well, I can always leave if I find him too impossible,” she said lightly.
He shot her an appraising glance. “I wouldn't count on that,” he said coolly. “I have an idea that Donovan has plans for you. And Donovan always gets what he wants.”
“Plans?” Brenna asked blankly. She shook her head. “I have a small supporting role in one of his pictures. I'm not important in his scheme of things. What plans could he possibly have for me?”
“Who knows?” Monty said, with a shrug. “Maybe he sees you as the next Sarah Bernhardt.” He grinned boyishly. “Whatever it is, you're being given very special treatment, Brenna Sloan. I'll have you know, I'm a very important cog in Donovan's organization,” he said with mock conceit. “It's not an ordinary occurrence for me to be ordered to act as chauffeur to an unknown actress. I must admit that my ego was very badly dented when he gave me my instructions.”
She smiled in amusement. “I hate to disillusion you, but I'm afraid your original supposition was correct.”
He slanted her an oblique smile. “We'll see,” he said composedly.
He pulled into a circular driveway that led to a long two-story building, which, like the other buildings in the complex, was constructed of redwood, stone, and glass.
“Employee's quarters,” Monty said briskly, in answer to her inquiring look. “You'll find your accommodations are part of your fringe benefits. You're provided with a small apartment at Donovan's expense. The units also supply maid service at your own expense. There's a cafeteria in each residence hall that is open twenty-four hours a day.” He grimaced. “They have to be. There are times when we work around the clock to meet the demands of our lord and master.”
He pulled to a smooth stop before the front entrance, jumped out, and came around the car with the characteristic energy she was beginning to associate with him.
A husky, sandy-haired teenager in a plaid shirt and jeans came hurrying out the front entrance, and opened the passenger door quickly.
“Good to see you back, Mr. Walters,” he said respectfully.
“Thanks, Johnny,” Walters said easily, as he helped Brenna from the car.
“This is Johnny Smith, Brenna. He's a sort of jack-of-all-trades. If you need something, ask Johnny.”
Brenna smiled warmly at the boy and he smiled back. “You bet,” he said cheerfully. “I'll take good care of you, miss.”
“Thank you, Johnny,” she said quietly.
Monty Walters opened the rear door, and lifted a sleeping Randy out with the utmost care to avoid waking him. He tossed the trunk keys to the boy. “Bring in Miss Sloan's luggage, will you, Johnny?”
Walters escorted her into the bright, cheerful lobby, and paused before the reception desk. A pert, dark-haired girl looked up with a smile that took on a flattering obsequiousness as soon as she recognized Walters.
“Paula Drummond, Brenna,” Walters said briskly. “This is Brenna Sloan, Paula. I understand Mr. Donovan's secretary was to contact you with regard to the arrangements.”
The dark-haired girl shook her head. “Mr. Donovan called himself,” she said solemnly. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sloan. We have everything arranged just as Mr. Donovan instructed.” She picked up the phone and punched several buttons rapidly. “Doris, Miss Sloan is here. Would you come down right away?” She turned to Brenna and Walters, a bright smile on her face. “We've given you one of the guest cottages. I hope you'll be very comfortable there. If there's anything else you need, just call me.”
“Thank you. I'm sure everything will be fine,” Brenna said