Chapter Forty-Three
Stephen
Everything about today seemed to be out to frustrate me, from the moment I woke up. Creeping around my apartment so as not to wake Elle, going out for a run, receiving a message that shit had hit the fan at work and I’d have to go in, then going home and finding she still wasn’t awake. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her to be resting — but I’d wanted to be able to speak to her and know for definite she was OK before I went to the office.
Work had been a shambles. Patrick had forgotten a huge chunk of due diligence needed on an acquisition for a client that was close to the wire. We’d gone into a meeting with Georgina about it, who took the opportunity to try and play footsie with me under the table. When Patrick had been called out by a phone call from his wife, I’d had to make an excuse to use the bathroom while we were waiting for him to come back because I didn’t want to be left on my own with her. The call had meant he’d had to leave altogether, so I was left to plug his gap, rally the members of the team who were actually there and make the judgement call about communicating the problem on a wider scale to the lawyers. I’d barely had time to reply properly when I finally did get a text from Elle. And then, after I’d successfully managed to put the flames out on that fire, Georgina decided she was in need of my expert opinion on UK regulations for a merger deal she was scoping out.
I had no way of knowing whether she genuinely wanted my knowledge, was punishing me for avoiding her earlier, or aiming to corner me when the office emptied out and I was inevitably still polishing a comprehensive recommendation for her. It hardly mattered because she was my boss and I had a job to do.Push back was not an option unless I wanted to look inefficient or lazy.
When Elle’s name unexpectedly lit up the screen on my phone, I probably shouldn’t have answered, given that I was knee deep in CMA legislation, but my mindset was all about problem-solving and speaking to her would definitely resolve the issue I had with needing reassurance that she was not in pain or flaked out in her ridiculously hot apartment.
I grabbed my phone and went into the break-out area to fill up my water bottle.
‘Good evening, Miss Kingston,’ I answered her. ‘How are you feeling? Mobile and hydrated? Pleased with yourself for meeting your deadline?’
‘Hello Mr Cartwright.’ My stomach pushed up into my diaphragm at the sound of her voice, bright enough to make me think she was smiling. ‘I am feeling great, thank you. And yes, the book is now - figuratively speaking - on my editors desk and I amexceedinglypleased with myself.’
‘That’s good to hear, all round.’ I trapped my phone between my shoulder and jaw, so I could unscrew the lid on my water bottle and press it against the lever on the water dispenser.
‘Yes.’ Then she paused in a very un-Elle-like way. I waited, while the machine glugged and the hairs on the back of my neck gradually rose with something like a premonition. ‘I do have some other news.’
This was it, wasn’t it? ‘Your dad’s been in touch?’
‘Uh-huh. He sent me the address he found for Trevor Moorcroft.’
My mouth dried out. I thought I’d said OK but when she softly said my name like a question, I realised no sound could have come out.
‘Yes. I’m here. Sorry. I mean, thank you. Thanks for all your help with it. And please pass on my thanks to your dad, too.’
‘OK. I’ll text you the address, shall I?’
‘Please.’ I took my water bottle and put it on the counter, looking beyond to the long windows. Wall Street was ablaze with the orange and pinks and yellows of the approaching sunset. Normally, no matter how high the floor I worked on, I was OK with it, provided I kept a reasonable distance from the windows, so I was sure the sensation of the world falling away beneath my feet was not actually to do with my acrophobia. ‘Did your dad happen to mention how up to date the information was?’
‘Yeah. He has his taxi driver’s license. They need to renew every three years and his last renewal was nine months ago.’
I nodded, though she couldn’t see me.
‘Stephen?’
‘Good. That’s good. No more wild goose chase.’
‘Fingers crossed. I’ll text it over to you now.’ She didn’t say goodbye though and I tried to make my brain unfreeze enough to figure out what she was waiting to hear from me exactly.
‘OK. Thanks, Elle. Two successful missions for you today, right?’
‘I guess.’
Not that then. I pinched the bridge of my nose. ‘Sorry. I have to go. Still finishing up at the office.’
‘Damn.’ She let out a little laugh. ‘And I thought they were exaggerating with the “money never sleeps” schtick. Will you get out soon on good behaviour?’
‘Forecasts point to that being unlikely,’ I said dryly.
‘Well, I’ll let you go then.’
‘Bye, Elle.’
I gave myself an extra minute in the quiet of the breakout area, sipping my water and looking out the window, letting myself consider the fact I could have easily got in my father’s taxi at some point over the last few weeks and not even noticed. Then I returned to my desk, pushing it to the back of my mind beforeI even sat down because I needed to have my full focus on my work.
