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“Hello, can I help you?” I’m asked by a woman wandering toward me, a tall, leggy woman, who’s primped and preened perfectly. She smiles, trying to discreetly take me in.
I flash my visitor’s card and a bright smile. “Luke Williamson,” I say. “We’re carrying out maintenance on the security of the building.”
“Oh, yes.” She goes into her posh leather handbag and pulls out her phone. “I recall an email.”
“My team are working their way up the building. You’re next.”
“Oh, joy.” She smiles, dragging her eyes to the screen of her phone. “I have a meeting to get to.” She points to a desk set to the side. “Rachel will help you.”
Rachel looks up and smiles. “Would be my pleasure.” She darts a pleased look to the lady standing next to me. “How can I help?” She joins her hands on the desk and smiles up at me.
“I need to walk the floor.” I flash the blueprints at her. “Just to check the locations match up with our records.”
“Sure. Can I get you a drink?”
“I’m good, thanks. Shouldn’t take too long.” I look down at the drawing in my hand. “Oh, you could note down the departments for me.” I lay the plan in front of Rachel. “I only have zones listed.”
“Sure.” She takes a pen and turns the paper, cocking her head as she tries to get her bearings. “Oh, right.” She draws a cross. “We’re here.”
“Okay.”
“This area here is marketing.” She makes a note. “This here is sales, and here we have Scarlett’s office. That’s the lady who just left.” Scarlett. Lo works for a lady called Scarlett.
“That’s great, thanks.” I swipe back up the blueprints and head down the corridor, taking a right at the end. Lo comes into view the second I round the corner, sitting at an L-shaped desk outside what I assume is Scarlett’s office. She’s tapping away at the keyboard of her computer, and the smile that slowly began to form the moment I caught sight of her dies when I see how drained she looks. Completely depleted. The vision makes my body fold slightly, and my mind races with why she looks so worn out.
Taking slow steps toward her, the paper in my hand rustles, and Lo’s head lifts, but it goes back down again. Then she does a double take and shoots up from her chair. “Luke,” she blurts.
“Hey.” I smile, coming to a stop at the foot of her desk.
“What are you doing here?”
I hold up the blueprint. “We’re carrying out maintenance work on the security system.”
Her head tilts in question. “And the CEO does that, does he?”
I purse my lips, trying and failing to appear casual. “Just overseeing.”
Lo’s lips twist, revealing a poor attempt to keep her knowing smile contained. She has me all figured out, and I honestly couldn’t give a toss. I miss her face. “Overseeing,” she mimics quietly.
“Yes, and I saw the company you work for crop up. It would be rude not to swing by and say hi.”
Her smile breaks, and it’s the best thing I’ve seen all day. All week, in fact.
“Did you have a good weekend?” I kick myself when her barely there smile fades as a result of my question, her eyes suddenly evading mine. It makes my mind race further.
“Not bad, thank you.” She sits back down at her desk and gathers some papers into a pile.
Shit, I’m losing her. Why’d I ask that? Especially after the weekend she thinks I had. She knows the truth, so I can’t deny it. Although, I had no intention of sleeping with that woman. That’s still slightly screwing with my head, because why didn’t I? I don’t know, but I need to reel Lo back in, so I perch on the edge of her desk, clearing my throat, as if I’m about to say something really important. She peeks up at me, and I give her one of my most dashing smiles. Lo rolls her eyes. I smile wider. “I have a secret,” I tell her, watching as her expression drifts into curiosity.
“What?”
“I can’t tell you.”
She laughs. It’s music to my ears. “Then why bother telling me you have a secret?”
“Well, I can’t tell you yet.”
“Then when can you tell me?”
I put my fingertip on my lips, feigning thinking. “I need help first.”
She slowly leans back in her chair, twirling her pen through her fingers. “And if I can’t help you?”
“Oh, you can definitely help me.”
Lo’s pretty forehead furrows. “How’d you know?”
“I just know.” I stand up. “Are you free after work?” I hate the mental battle she’s clearly having over my question. Fucking hate it, because I know for a fact that if she says no, it’s not because she doesn’t want to be available after work. It’s because of him.
“I’m sorry,” she begins, going back to her computer. “I have plans.”
