When Anthony Hargreaves called Margaret into his office she thought it was routine. It wasn't. After twenty years she knew his demeanour, his body language.  

            When he said, 'we'll have some tea, I think,' she automatically started to get up to go and order it but his staying hand wasn't routine either. He got up and left the office and she knew he was going to the outer office to ask Felicity.  

            While he was away she checked her hair but not even a single tendril had escaped the severity of her bun, her black skirt was blacker than night not a speck to be seen and her blouse was properly tucked in all round. She was adjusting her glasses on her nose when he returned.  

            'It won't be long,' he said and she sensed he was nervous, a rare, rare thing.  

            'Would you like my help with the Armstrong Account, Mr Hargreaves?'  

            'What I'd like, Margaret is for you to call me Anthony. Not Antony, not Tony or even Tone but...'  

            'Anthony' she savoured the word, the first time she had ever used it in his presence. 'Is this a new policy, Mr ... I mean Anthony?'  

            'Between you and I, yes. No-one else.'  

            'Oh, I see.' But what she really saw was that he was looking at her, without distraction and there was a warm glint in the blue of his eyes.  

            The word most associated with him was cold, everyone thought him cold except her. He, at the record-breaking age of twenty, had taken over the accountancy firm on the very day she had joined as a temp, twenty years ago.  

            She had spent one day as a temp and twenty years as his Personal Assistant. Together they had transformed the business. Whereas it was 'not bad' before he arrived it was now ranked as the best accountancy firm in the land, bar none.  'How old are you Margaret?'  

            She tried not to hesitate but the question was so unexpected that the pause matched the missed beat of her heart. 'I'm forty.' A wisp of disappointment came over her as the exciting mystery of his unusual behaviour shrank back. He was probably planning a birthday celebration for her. Her Fortieth was next week. It was lovely of him to even remember, he never had before but the last thing she wanted was her age trumpeted all over the office ...  

            'We disagree,' he said. 'You see, by my reckoning, you're not 40 at all, I think you're 35.1 years at the very most but I need more information to make it accurate.'  

            If the blue of his eyes was an ocean she was drowning. 'I'm sorry?' she said with far more apology in her voice than she'd meant. She must be missing something. She wasn't keeping up.  

            He reached for the calculator. 'What I want you to do is think for a moment or two, there's no rush, about how many extra special days there have been in your life.'  

            His face was so different, excitement and enthusiasm changed him from everyday cool, exceptionally handsome to ... She couldn't think straight. She was supposed to be thinking about 'extra special' days.  

            'You don't have to tell me what they are ... ' he was saying in the distance. 'AlI I need is a number.'  

            'Three.'  

            'Three! Three?'  

            'Extra special days, yes. There is no doubt. Three.'  

            He was even more handsome, she decided, when he looked surprised. 'We agree,' he said leaning forward. 'That's the number I came to'  

            'But how could you know that I would say three ... ' And then she realised.  

            He nodded. 'My number is three too. Three extra special, stand alone days. For me, there have been a whole column full of quite exceptional days but always with another column alongside counteracting.'  

            And she knew what he meant. On her exam results day, when she'd got the best grades against all expectation, her breathless news had interrupted an uncharacteristic row her parents were having. They stopped the row and everyone celebrated her success and it was a lovely day but it was, as it turned out, the start of her parents' divorce.  

            'I don't see how this makes me thirty five,' she said coldly.  

            'My grandmother,' he said subsiding back into his chair 'said something to me one day which I hardly took any notice of at the time but which has stayed with me always. And, today I realised what she meant.'  

            He'd started her remembering and she couldn't stop. There had been the day when Norman Perkins kissed her and it had been the most incredible, melting kiss and she knew that, at long last, she had a boyfriend. Everything was alright until she heard Veronica crudely describing to everyone how he'd kissed her just as she had felt it. It had been devastating.  

            'My grandmother said that one day is the eighth day of the week.'  

            Her three extra special days had been the day she met Anthony, then the day after when he asked her to become his Personal Assistant and ... today.  

            She did the calculation in her head, eight days a week actually would make her about thirty five.  

            'The eighth day is he day you meant to do something - that one day when you would do something extra special. Every week that happens. And when you tot all these things Up ... ' He waved his hand expansively, the gesture fluttering away with an endearingly uncharacteristic lack of confidence, into nothing.  

            The silence between them almost remained intact touched gently as it was by the softness of his voice. 'And I've always thought that, one day, I'd like to walk out of this office, with you, and go off to the airport - just go ... but, with you. I've made all the money I'm ever going to need. And I've always thought that one day, I'd like to kiss you, and one day ... we'd be together. Why not today?'  

            Felicity brought the tea tray in but this did not break their gaze or close the question. 'Would you like me to serve, Mr Hargreaves?'  

            'No thank you.' And their gaze did not waiver until Margaret heard the office door close quietly as Felicity left and Anthony stood up and came round the desk to her. His hand touched her cheek and she automatically tilted her head to receive his kiss.  Her impression was one of respectful restraint, adoration and uncertainty and her response tried to quell his uncertainty and succeeded only in allowing her a glimpse of first his passion and then hers.  

            The kiss went on uninterrupted when the door opened again and Felicity rushed in saying 'so sorry I forgot the spoons ... '  

            There was a gasp followed by the shaky sound of metal against china and then the office door closed quietly behind her.  

            As he withdrew she couldn't help but think that, in comparison, Norman Perkins had just been a kid in school, which of course was true. And she felt an overwhelming dilemma demanding her attention. If she said yes, yes, yes, and they walked out together to the airport, it might be fine and reckless but...  The alternative was to walk out to her office as if nothing had happened knowing Felicity would already have emailed everyone on the local network...  

            'What were your three extra special days?' she said at last when she could be certain of a voice.  

            'The day I walked into this firm and saw you. The next day when you said yes you would be my Personal Assistant - without even telling me you were a temp, by the way! And today, kissing you.'  

            The dilemma dissolved.  

            'I love you,' he said.  

            'Yes,' she said, 'I think you do.' She got up and walked to the door, turned and said, 'But the answer is no. However if, one day, a discrete invitation to dinner were to appear in my appointments diary, I would certainly accept.'  

            He smiled. The nod of his head as gracious as any bow. The office door closed quietly behind her.  

            When she got back to her desk, an invitation to dinner had already appeared on her screen, in her appointments diary - not one day but today. 35.1 years old was a very good ' age to be.