AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Should you wish to store your suitcase in my office for the day please do feel free. It may save you some well-meaning questioning from colleagues once 9am hits. You’ve enough on your mind right now. I don’t imagine you’d appreciate their sympathy.
James
James Clarke
CTO, Trial Run Software Group.
A man with intuition.
To: James Clarke
Subject: Re: Coffee
You imagined right. Thank you very much. I’ll bring it up.
Lydia
Lydia Marsh
Senior Project Co-ordinator, Trial Run Software Group.
I shoved my drying clothes back in and wrenched the case closed. I’d only just managed to yank it upright when my email pinged again.
From: James Clarke
Subject: Re: Re: Coffee
No need.
James
The office door was already swinging open as I read it, and there he was, mobile tablet in hand on his way to my desk. I took him in as he approached; the confidence of his stride, his self-assured expression, the gorgeous goddamn suit he was wearing. He could have stepped straight off Savile Row. His jacket was pale grey pinstripe, paired strikingly with a dark burgundy tie. Pure white shirt, tailored trousers showcasing solid toned thighs. Even his feet joined in on the show, gleaming to perfection in mirror-shined brogues. He really was Mr Corporate, you could almost smell the senior management title on him. He was tall, really damn tall, commanding an imposing frame without being bulky. I’d heard on the grapevine that he worked out every lunchtime without fail, but he didn’t use the shared gym in our complex. The messy tendrils of his hair contrasted perfectly with the hard angles of his face. Mid-thirties, I’d guess. Old enough to be distinguished, but without even a hint of salt and pepper hair. James Clarke was an impressive specimen. Still, it meant nothing to me, nothing at all. He could be anyone for all I cared this morning, just as long as he hid my suitcase.
“I figured you’d lugged that thing far enough this morning already. Where are you headed when work’s done?”
“Islington, I think. I’m counting on a friend.”
“Let me know.” He leant in close as he grabbed my case, and I caught a scent of musk, almost Arabian, and underneath the smell of fresh linen, and vanilla soap. If that’s what a senior management title smells like, it smells damn good.
“Thanks for this, Mr Clarke, I really appreciate it.”
“James,” he said. “I’m not your boss, Lydia, you don’t need to act like my subordinate.” He gave me a look I couldn’t read.
“Ok,James,” I smiled. “Thank you.”
“I’ll be leaving at five on the dot,” he said. “If you’re later than that I’ll leave my office open for you.”
I could breathe a whole lot easier once that suitcase was out of sight. With a dab or two of concealer we’d be back to business-as-usual.
***
James had already gone by the time I went for my case. He’d left it hidden behind his desk, out of sight. Sliding into his seat to retrieve it felt weird and invasive. His desk was immaculate; stationery and papers arranged in lines with perfect precision. There was a letter tray for incoming mail, but outside of that there wasn’t a single scrawled note, or post-it, to be seen. Even more notable was the serious lack of anything personal: no photos, no trinkets, nothing. His pens were arranged in uniform, a display of perfectly aligned ballpoints, all black. A black stapler, hole punch and calculator, all standard issue from the stationery cupboard. A metal ruler lay perfectly parallel to the desk edge, and a Trial Run notepad lay open on the first page, unused. Aside from the certificates on the walls there was no touch of the man in the room. A generic leafy plant sat on a bookshelf, which housed only industry-related publications. An empty wastepaper bin, without even a trace of lunch, or discarded paperwork. Nothing.
In a moment of impulsion, I took one of his pens from its position. On page one of his Trial Run notepad I left my mark.
Islington bound, safe and sound. Thank you.
I signed off with a big scrawly L and a flourish, and successfully fought the urge to line the pen back up where I found it. A bit of chaos wouldn’t hurt him.
