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Me: I want you to take Chelsea out today. Go shopping, to the spa, anywhere. But don’t bring her home until after seven pm. Please inform the staff that they are all relieved of their duties from five pm. I do not want a soul setting foot in the main house.
I hit send and, getting to my feet, I head toward the door. The sooner we get this meeting out of the way, the better.
The meeting runs over and we leave the presentation room at five-thirty. Malachi and I shake each executive’s hand on their way out of the door.
“Why do you keep looking at the time?” Malachi asks.
“I’m not,” I say, discreetly pushing my pocket watch back into my pocket.
Malachi frowns, shakes Roger’s hand, and returns his attention to me. “If you have somewhere you need to be…”
“I don’t,” I say to Malachi, and when Roger stands in front of me, I take his hand. Although he’s frail, his grip is firm as we shake. “On behalf of Calloway Housebuilders, I cannot thank you enough for your hard work.”
Roger Silverstone is our marketing team leader. He has been with our company for over thirty years. Thanks to his diligence and dedication we have seen profits soar. It’s unfortunate that Roger is retiring in a few short weeks. There is so much more I feel I need to say to the old boy, but words are simply not enough. My brothers and I have however arranged a retirement party for him, which is our way of showing our appreciation.
Roger leaves through the door, and with Malachi’s attention on another member of staff, I seize the moment to sneak a peek at the time.
Five thirty-five, damn it.
When I look up, Malachi’s dark gaze is already on me. “Will you just leave? I can wrap things up here.”
I want to say no, because I really should stay. Work and money have always been the centre of my universe, everything and everyone else naturally slotted into second place. But not Chelsea.
“If you’re sure?” I ask, not waiting for an answer because my feet are already starting toward the door.
“If you look at that watch one more time, I’m going to shove it—”
I don’t stick around long enough to hear Malachi’s words. I’m out of the building in no time and hurry to where McKenzie is parked up in the Mercedes.
“Where to, sir?” he asks as I slide into the back seat.
“Surrey estate,” I say, and, pulling my phone from my trouser pocket, I search for Mrs Collins, my head cook, and dial her number. She picks up on the tenth ring.
“Hello, Mr Calloway,” she says, her voice always so chirpy. It’s a trait I know my mother adored in her.
“I know I said you could finish early,” I begin.
“Oh, yes. I was just about to enjoy a soak in the bath and read my novel.”
I can hear water running in the background. I squeeze my phone in my grip, hating that I’m about to ruin her evening. “I don’t suppose you could postpone your bath and novel to tomorrow? I will give you the day off, with full pay.”
The sound of the water running quietens before eventually stopping. “Certainly, sir, what do you need me to do?”
I flash a glance at the small clock on the dash. I told my sister to return with Chelsea for seven. There just isn’t enough time to do myself what I had originally planned. “I planned to cook a three-course meal for Chelsea, but time appears to be slipping away from me. Therefore I would greatly appreciate your assistance.”
“No problem, sir, what’s on the menu for this evening?”
I switch the call to loudspeaker as I search through my cloud file. I hurriedly swipe through album after album until I find the file I am looking for.
“Cottage pie.” I click on the file. “My mother’s famous recipe. I’ll send you the list of ingredients,” I say, whilst at the same time taking several screenshots.
“That sounds wonderful.” Mrs Collins knows what that dish means to me, to my family. It hasn’t been cooked since my mother was alive. “Any preference for the other dishes?” she asks.
I recline back in the seat. “I had envisioned a soup to start, and something sweet to finish.”
Mrs Collins is silent for a beat. “How about I make a start on those, and put the ingredients on the side ready for you to cook the main?”
It is like the woman has read my mind. “Perfect,” I say, and cut the call.
