Page 52 of For You


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Two o’clock.

I stare at our untouched lunch, the undrunk coffees, and the unopened bottle of water. And my heart sinks. She didn’t come. But more than that, I start to worry. As I drag myself up, I walk slowly out of the café, pulling up her name on my phone. I shouldn’t call, but, especially now, I’m so worried. She wouldn’t stand me up without letting me know. I push my thumb down on the icon and bring my phone to my ear as I pace the street back to my office. My eyes close when it goes to voicemail. “Lo, it’s me,” I say, pushing through the glass doors when I make it to my building. “I went to meet you as usual. You didn’t show up. Darling, just let me know you’re okay. Please, I’m worried.” I hang up and hope so much she responds.

As soon as I make it to my floor, I head to the meeting room, wrestling all thoughts of Lo to a safe place in my mind. I have a security system to sell to the Chinese government. I have to nail this. Given the advancement of the Chinese market and their enviable technology, this could be the deal of a lifetime for me and my company.

“All set?” I ask the team when I enter the room. A chorus of enthusiastic confirmations ring out as I throw my file on the table. “Good. Let’s get this in the bag.”

Stanley jumps up from his chair and starts tapping away on his laptop. “They’ll be dialing in at two thirty.”

I look at my watch, noting we have five minutes. “Still the premier’s wingman?” I ask, knowing who we get to talk to matters as much as what we talk about.

“Yep. Remember, guys, we need to put emphasis on the sensory element of the system. It’s been in use in a dozen high-security buildings across London now for a year without a hitch.”

I smile, satisfied. Our newest sensor is, pardon the pun, the dogs bollocks. Pet detectors are popular in security where guard dogs are utilized, though temperamental. Not one system was fail-safe in the market, with frequent false triggers and, worse, not triggering when needed. Often the sensor would fuck up, misidentifying a moving object. Until we developed the P500. It’s genius, and the only sensor of its capability on the market, identifying between an animal and a human through bone structure rather than weight and height. “And the premier still has five dogs, right?” I ask.

“Yep, he does.”

“Perfect. God love his love for canines. This should be a breeze.” I grin and tidy the stack of papers before me, just as the projector screen at the far end of the room comes to life, three men appearing.

I stand and smile brightly. “ni hao,” I say, nodding politely.

The smiles I get in return tell me I’ve nailed my pitch already.

“I’m buying the drinks tonight,” I call back to everyone as I make my way back to my office. “After work in The Strip.”

A chorus of whoops and yeahs ring out, the office buzzing. Just how I like it. “You look like the cat that got the cream.” Pam laughs as I skip past her desk.

“Oh, I am.” I swoop into my office and dial Todd. “The Strip at six,” I say in greeting.

“Thank fuck. I’ve had a bitch of a day.”

“She moved out?” I land in my chair and flick through my inbox, mentally answering my new emails.

“No, she’s changed the locks.”

My head recoils on my neck. “Wow.”

“Just tell me something,” Todd says on a sigh. “Did you see any of this coming?”

“I’m not a mind reader, mate. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find Charity . . .” I cut my sentence there, trying to think of an appropriate word. A diva? Unreasonable? A brat?

“Find her what?”

“Intense,” I finish. “Honestly, I’m not quite sure how you let this happen.”

“Me neither,” he admits. “Get me a beer in if you’re there before me. I need to wrap up this account before I leave.”

“Done.” I hang up and return to my computer, clicking my mouse repeatedly to open an email that refuses to open. “Come on,” I say. Then the screen goes blank on me, the whole thing crashing. “Great.” I grunt at the monitor a few times, cursing and muttering under my breath as I press every button on the damn keyboard. Nothing. “Pam,” I yell. She’s at the entrance to my office in a flash. “Stupid computer has crashed,” I tell her, smacking the keys again to demonstrate the lack of life.

“I’ll call the IT department.”

“Thanks.”

Of course, with nothing but a blank screen to stare at, my tools for distraction are limited and I start thinking. Thinking about Lo. Where she is. Why she didn’t show up. About her circumstances. Her well-being. I let my elbows hit the desk and my arms carry the weight of my heavy head.

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