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He nods his head. “I’ll call her and get back to you.”
“Fine.”
I turn, leaving his office without another word. I know I should probably thank him, but I can’t bring myself to. As I’m about to close the door, I hear him connecting a call to Livia Hopkins, and I get a strange feeling, like a gust of ice cold wind brushing over my skin. I shiver against it, wondering if it was the tone of Miles’s voice as he said her name, or the name itself. There’s something about it… something familiar.
I close the door as quietly as I can and stroll back down the hall, playing her name over in my mind. Livia Hopkins… Livia… Livia…
Why do I know that name?
I get back to my office and sit behind my desk, racking my brain, trying to think about where I might have met someone called Livia before. I come across all kinds of people in my professional life, but I don’t think it’s got anything to do with work. We don’t have any clients who deal in robotics, and to my knowledge, we never have, so it can’t be that…
My computer pings, and I click on my email app, sitting forward to read a message from Miles. He’s letting me know he’s confirmed an appointment with Livia Hopkins for tomorrow at ten-thirty. I reply with a quick, ‘Thanks’, just as an awful thought crosses my mind.
What if I’ve slept with her?
I’ve always known the names of the women I’ve slept with at the time, but I can’t honestly say I can remember them all. Not now. I can’t imagine how embarrassing it will be if she walks in here tomorrow morning, and we both have recollections of a night of intimate passion… or worse still, if I recall it and she doesn’t. At least, I think that would be worse. I’m not altogether sure.
“Don’t be an idiot,” I mutter to myself.
I can’t have slept with her. Miles told me she’s only twenty-one years old. I haven’t slept with anyone since Sadie. Livia Hopkins would have only been eighteen then, and I haven’t slept with an eighteen-year-old since I was eighteen myself.
I smile, thinking back through those fourteen years to my first time…
Her name was Raven, and it suited her. She had jet black hair and bright blue eyes, and my eighteen-year-old body craved her, like oxygen. The feeling was mutual, it seemed, and one evening, after we’d made a pretense at dating for the third or fourth time, we found our way back to her place. Her parents were out, and we barely made it through the door before we started tearing at each other’s clothes. It wasn’t her first time, and I don’t think she realized it was mine. I certainly wasn’t going to tell her. I can’t claim it was spectacular, but it was good enough that we both felt like repeating the experience… multiple times. It was a purely physical attraction, born of lust, not love, and when her parents decided to move out of state, we parted like old friends, knowing we’d had a great time… but that there was greater still to come. We both knew we hadn’t found ‘the one’, if such a thing exists…
I sit forward, just as my phone beeps. The appointment with Livia Hopkins has automatically migrated to my calendar. It will have synched with Doreen’s too, and a reminder window has popped up on my screen, letting me know. I glance down and shake my head. Livia… Livia.
It must just be a coincidence… or else my jaded mind is playing tricks on me.
Chapter Three
Livia
I need to stop shaking… although I’m not sure how.
I hadn’t expected Miles Hampton to call me back at all, let alone to do it so promptly, but he phoned not long after I got back to the office yesterday afternoon, asking if I’d be free to have an interview with Mr. Bennett this morning. I could hardly say ‘no’, having said I’d fit in with whatever Mr. Bennett needed, and to be honest, I was just so relieved to have been given the opportunity, having messed up so badly with Miles, I said ‘yes’, on the spot.
Of course, that left me with the problem of what to tell Lucian.
He was between phone calls, so I went straight into his office, standing on the opposite side of his desk, and I looked down at him, remembering why I was doing this. The lies fell off of my lips more easily that way…
“I’m sorry, Lucian, but I won’t be able to come in tomorrow morning.”
He looked up, putting the lid back onto his fountain pen and frowning. “Tomorrow?” I knew he wanted to say something about the short notice, but instead, he just asked, “Why?”
“I have to see my doctor.” I tilted my head slightly, raising my eyebrows, and he nodded his head, as though he’d understood the secret code for ‘you don’t want to ask what about’.
“Okay. It’s nothing serious, is it?” He might not have been asking for details, but he seemed concerned, and I felt a little guilty for deceiving him.
“No. It’s just routine.”
He nodded. “In that case, can you contact Zach Fowler and bring our meeting forward to this afternoon? He wants to talk through the provisional marketing budgets for the next two quarters and I’ll need you to sit in, to take notes.”
“Sure.” My guilt ratcheted up a notch, but didn’t go so far that I was prepared to cancel my interview… which is how I’ve come to be standing outside this four-story, red-brick building, a knot gathering in my stomach. I’ll admit that’s partly because I still haven’t had time to do any research on Theodore Bennett, or his company, and I’m scared it’s going to show. That’s not entirely my fault, though. The meeting with Zach Fowler ran on longer than anyone expected, and Lucian didn’t offer me a ride home, so by the time I got back last night, I barely had time to eat before I fell asleep.
I swallow down my nerves, pulling at the hem of my dark gray jacket, before I push on the door in front of me and walk in.
I’ve left behind a bright and sunny spring morning, but in here it seems even brighter still. The foyer is huge, with white painted walls and a really high ceiling. There are scarlet couches and chairs dotted around, and to the left, a large meeting area, hemmed in by glass, inside which is an enormous table, surrounded by over a dozen chairs.
