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Neither can I...
CHAPTER SIX
Olivia
‘YOU’VEDONEWHAT?’
I stare at Valentine across my desk and blink once, twice for good measure, and still feel like I can’t have heard him right. For twelve months I’ve been free and now my wings are being clipped. And all by some upstart who would’ve been in nappies while I was graduating with first class honours from Oxford.
‘I’ve arranged a dinner for Thursday night. There are people I’d like you to meet, politicians who can add weight to your charity agenda, influential people who—’
‘No, I got that, but Saturday, you said...?’
He flicks his navy tie out and settles back into his chair, too sure of himself and what he has to say. His pristine hair is combed back in what must be a blow-dried quiff. His face is closely shaven, not a blemish in sight, save for the scar through his eyebrow that makes me shiver with speculation, fascination. His chiselled jaw and prominent cheekbones all sculpted and golden, and his lips...
No, don’t go there!
I drop my gaze to his clothing. The sharp cut to his charcoal-grey suit that highlights his broad shoulders, his crisp white shirt smooth as it runs over what are sure to be washboard abs. Is there not a millimetre that doesn’t appeal? A millimetre of imperfection that I can focus on...my eyes flit to the scar again.
No. Not working. It only adds a bad boy vibe to his authoritarian air, and inmyoffice, going overmyschedule.
I have the ridiculous urge to climb over my desk and yank the navy flap of silk until he’s an inch from my face, muss him up while I make it clear I won’t be treated like this.
Not again.
‘I said I’ve made arrangements for us to attend a football match, a corporate box affair. I think the French striker Louis Dubois and his wife are the perfect replacement for you. The charitable work they’ve already done abroad makes them the ideal candidates to—’
‘I don’t disagree with their suitability. What I’m arguing with is the timing, the fact that you’ve taken it upon yourself to cancelmyplans withmyPA behindmyback and you’ve not even been here five minutes.’
‘Twenty-four hours, if I want to be picky.’
My eyes flare at him.
‘As for the timing,’ he carries on regardless, ‘their calendars are tricky at best. They’re flying in for the semi-final, so it’s now or in a month or two, and you know it needs to be now.’
‘And like I said to you yesterday, it’s me you talk to, me you convince and gain agreement with,beforeyou go anywhere near my PA and adjust my plans.’
‘You had a track day planned; it was hardly critical, not to mention—’
‘It’smytrack day.’
‘There’ll be other track days; there won’t be another opportunity like this.’
‘That’s not the point, and you know it.’
He shifts in his seat. I’d like to think it’s because he’s uncomfortable, but he’s been in my office for an hour taking me through his plans and not once has he acted out of place, on edge. If anything, he’s in his element, telling me how this should all play out.
And yes, I’m impressed with the ideas he’s put forward. So far, they’ve been sound, easy decisions to make, but now we’re onto my diary, my free time and he’s taking over, just like...just like Nathan.
‘I spoke to Pippa and we agreed—’
‘You and my PA agreed?’ I splutter, choking on my rising anger. ‘Have you heard yourself?’
‘What I’m trying to say is, we talked through your Saturday plans and we agreed she would call you before firming anything up. When she couldn’t reach you, we made an executive decision.’
‘An executive decision about my Saturday, my free time? How utterly thoughtful of you.’
‘Like I explained, time was of the essence.’
