AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Looking for loose change?’
She shrugged. ‘That or a winning lottery ticket.’ Her eyes lit up, and she pulled out a folded piece of paper. ‘What have we here?’
Crossing the room, James held out his hand. He didn’t know what it might be, but he didn’t want her knowing anything about his family.
‘Give that to me,’ he said, his voice more commanding than he’d anticipated.
She held the paper to her chest.
‘It could be confidential or proprietary information,’ he continued, fully aware he was sounding like an utter twat.
One corner of her mouth twitched up. Opening the piece of paper, she skimmed it, then smirked.
‘Oh, Mr Hunter-Savage, this is quite the dilemma.’
Fuck. What had she found?
‘“Who I love, and why”,’ she read out loud. ‘“Oliver Simmonds, because he has a nice smile and gave me his pencil in Latin. He is a nice boy”.’ Estelle glanced up. ‘How terribly nice…’
James folded his arms across his chest and lifted his chin an inch.
Estelle gave him a bored once-over. ‘Your power stance could do with a bit of work. Try manspreading your legs more.’ She turned her attention back to the piece of paper. ‘“Blaise Ponsonby-Urquhart”—good grief. And there was me thinking “Hunter-Savage” was posh—’
‘So says Lady Estelle Foxbrooke,’ he interrupted before his filters had a chance to spring into action.
She ignored him. ‘“Blaise Ponsonby-Urquhart, because he is tall, dark and handsome, and asked to copy my prep, so he knows I am clever. But he’s a bad boy”.’ Estelle sighed. ‘Who did you choose in the end? And did they love you back?’
Striding forward, James snatched the piece of paper out of her hand, scrunched it in his fist, then dropped it into the wastepaper basket by his desk.
Estelle sniggered. ‘Oh, don’t be like that. Love is love. You should never be ashamed of falling for someone called Blaise Ponsonby-Urquhart. Even if he is a bad boy.’ Putting her feet up on the chaise longue, she rested her hands behind her head. The movement made the fabric of her jumper ride up and frame her breasts.
James looked away.
‘I wonder if he’s still a bad boy,’ she mused. ‘Does he park his Bentley across the disabled bays at the supermarket? Fail to recycle?’ Her tone hardened. ‘Or simply steal his colleague’s client and commission?’
His gaze snapped to hers. She was smiling at him, but there was no warmth behind it.
‘Boss-man!’
James jerked his head as Max entered the room carrying a laptop, then knocked on the inside of the door.
Irritation flared in James’s gut, but he dampened it down.
‘Hi, Lady Foxbrooke,’ Max continued with enthusiasm.
His words emptied a full can of petrol on the smouldering embers of James’s annoyance.
‘Max—’
‘Just my first name please,’ Estelle interrupted, getting to her feet and going to shake Max’s hand. ‘Did you have a good Christmas?’
He stared at her noisy slippers, then glanced at James, a smirk on his face. ‘Yes, thanks. I’ll make sure to call you Estelle from now on. It’s just that Boss-man insisted I use your full title.’
No, I fucking didn’t. ‘Really?’ James replied, his tone artificially pleasant. ‘And there was me thinking I requested you do the exact opposite.’
Max shrugged. ‘How about we get started?’ he said to Estelle, then took a spare chair from beside James’s desk and carried it across the room to hers. He sat, placing his laptop down and flipping it open. ‘James,’ he continued, addressing the screen as he tapped in his password. ‘Why don’t you pull up a chair, buddy?’
Why don’t you go fuck yourself? Buddy…
