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“We do like the strong, silent, icy type.” He shakes a hand in the air and blows on his fingers, as if he’s touched something hot.

“We do?”

“Duh. Yes. Cold hands, warm cock, my Granny used to say. And you can’t fool me, honey. I’ve seen the way those big baby greens light up when you think nobody’s watching.”

“Baby greens?” I snort. Colin is way too perceptive for my own good. More than once I’ve caught myself tracking Jasper’s body. His movements. And not in a business colleague kind of way. In a maybe you could put your hand right here on my thigh kind of way. Maybe you could slide it a little higher. I shake my head to change the train of my thoughts. Luckily, Colin’s also way too self-absorbed to notice, or to stick with his line of enquiry too long. “And isn’t the saying warm hands, cold heart?” I finish.

“Heart, hands, cock. Whatever. It’s just a shame he bats for the wrong team.” Colin’s pout is worthy of Marilyn Monroe.

“He still hasn’t given me an answer on whether he’ll come with me on the road trip. I’m beginning to think the idea is dead in the water.” I slump in my chair, twisting a pen between my hands.

“Have you asked him again?” Colin points out with unwelcome logic.

“No. Because if I ask and he says no, I’ll know it’s over. At least as it stands, I’ve got a tiny shred of hope.”

By silent agreement, we stand and head to the kitchen to feed our caffeine addictions.

I’m just adding sugar when John Mackelden walks in. Which is very uncharacteristic. Normally he insists Vivian make his coffee. But it soon becomes clear coffee is not his agenda.

“I gather your suggestion of taking Spencer-Jones on one of your little road trips hasn’t eventuated into anything. Can we put the idea you dreamt up to bed now, do you think?” he says, with no greeting and more than a little spite in his tone.

I put my cup on the counter so John won’t see how much my hand is shaking. “Well, it—”

John cuts me off.

“I did tell you from the outset it was a complete waste of time and money. Perhaps now you’ll listen to the grownups in the room, hmm?”

The rudeness of what he just said steals my breath, and it takes me a moment to think of a reply.

“I, I’m sorry you think so, John. I had hoped—”

Only I’m interrupted again. This time by a deep, plummy voice more suited to the bedroom than the office, which causes my core muscles to clench inappropriately.

“Oh, Louise. There you are. I was looking for you. Could you give me the dates you’re proposing for the road trip? I need to make sure I clear my calendar.”

This is the first I’ve heard of it.

John turns, giving me a line of sight to Jasper’s face. His gaze locks on mine. Without a word, he’s telling me to follow his lead. From the corner of my eye, I can see Colin struggling to suppress a smirk. I pick up what Jasper’s putting down.

“Oh, yes, absolutely. I’m just waiting for confirmation from a couple of the wineries. I should have it all locked in by the end of the day.”

This is all utter rubbish. I haven’t reached out to anyone. But I also know it will only take me an hour or two to pull it together, given how well I know the suppliers.

“Don’t forget to file your per diem claim,” Colin says, his voice dripping with glee.

Two people in the room look at one another with wide, innocent eyes, while the third narrows his. John is not so stupid that he doesn’t know he’s missing something. But he’s stupid enough not to know what. Jasper is, as always, the human embodiment of an ancient Egyptian statue. Inscrutable.

“Thank you,” Jasper almost snaps and, without even a glance of acknowledgement for John, strides off down the corridor.

“Did we just witness another throwdown?” Colin asks, once John has disappeared in a huff.

“I think so.”

“Normally I don’t mind being the meat in a man sandwich, but not one that includes John McHandsy, thank you very much.”

“Eww. Now I need bleach eye drops. What a disgusting visual.”

“Well, one third of it is, anyway.”