‘A non-linear junction evaluator,’ Goodie told him.
‘A what?’
‘A bug detector.’
‘Oh.’
‘I’m doing a sweep of your flat,’ she explained, slapping some earphones over her ears. Nick huffed in frustration and pushed himself up off his chair.
‘I need to get back to the office – this whole thing has made me a bit twitchy about the meetings tomorrow. I should connect with some of the key players,’ he told her once he’d walked over to her and lifted up one of her earphones. She jerked her head away and pushed them down to her neck herself.
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible tonight, Mr Chambers,’ she told him, and was about to pull the headphones back up over her ears when his hands covered hers to stop her. Anger clouded her perfect features for a moment before she switched rapidly to a neutral expression. Her hands were small and cold under his; she felt almost fragile; yet he’d already seen that she was anything but. After a moment she jerked away from him and stepped backwards before crossing her arms over her chest and glaring up at him. ‘I am sorry, Mr Chambers,’ she forced out, sounding anything but. ‘We cannot leave your flat today. I know this is an inconvenience, but it’s not just you that would be put at risk. The people posing a threat to you are determined and they are persistent; they will not stop.’
Nick rubbed the back of his neck for a moment before pulling a hand through his hair in frustration. She was actually right, he conceded to himself. He would be a selfish bastard to put the security team at risk as well as himself; he hadn’t thought about it from that perspective. He shrugged. ‘You’re right,’ he told her. ‘I’ll just have to work from here.’ He jerked his head towards his home office. ‘Christ, I might even have to ask Bertie todosomething for a change. Are you … um … do you have to stay? The night I mean.’
‘I’m sorry but yes.’
‘The spare room’s all set up, so …’
‘Thank you,’ Goodie returned, pulling the earphones back up and resuming her sweep of his flat.
* * *
Goodie stoppedwhen she heard the office door close, and then lowered her earphones down to her neck again. Salem, sensing her unease, as was his way, padded up to her side and nuzzled her hand. She stared at the office door for a moment as she stroked Salem’s head. She could not make sense of that man, and for Goodie that was highly unusual. She’d been relying on her innate ability to accurately judge people since she was a child, when her survival depended on it. For a man of Nick’s power and arrogance to make a joke about something many men before him had found emasculating was … odd.
For once Goodie had found herself on the very edge of smiling. It wasn’t as if she never smiled, but usually it was to play a role, sometimes to intimidate or sometimes to hide her anger; she hardly ever found something genuinely funny. Shaking her head to clear it and dragging her eyes away from the office door, she pulled her earphones back up and carried on with the sweep.
He’s an arrogantzhopa,* she reminded herself. He thought he was so indestructible that he could just dismiss his security team. He’d made her job ridiculously hard over the last four weeks. Remembering all the manicures she’d had to endure, not to mention the hair extensions, the clothes, and above all the lipstick calledFuchsiafuckingFusion, she pushed any thoughts of finding him amusing out of her head.
Safer that way.
* zhopa– asshole
Chapter4
Who’s going to look after her?
‘Jesus, mate,’Clive said as he shut the door to Nick’s office. ‘What’s happened to your receptionist? I mean, granted, she looks a lot more fuckable now, but she’s also morphed into literally the least welcoming person on the planet. You sure you want that front of house? Coming in here was like going through a checkpoint into North Korea. It was all “ID? Remove your jacket. Wait there. Sign this.” No please or thank you; zero banter. Left me feeling pissed off but strangely aroused at the same time. Unsettling. And since when did people have to get sniffed by a massive dog before entering your office. Is she worried I might be smuggling drugs in to make our two o’clock more interesting?’
‘I know,’ returned Bertie with real feeling. He had been sitting opposite Nick and relaying the messages he’d taken that morning (those he hadn’t lost or simply been too much of an idiot to write down). ‘She gives me the willies.’ Since Goodie’s transformation from ‘Lucinda’, Bertie had been terrified of her. Women in general terrified Bertie, but Goodie’s brand of icy control combined with her sheer beauty was enough to tip him over into a new level of stuttering incompetence; something Nick wouldn’t have thought possible. ‘Chap comes into work, he’d like a cheery wave from a nice dolly-bird type, not a glare from an ultra-efficient Russian ball-breaker.’
Clive laughed. ‘Poor old Bert – not surprised she’s put the wind up you. You remember that bird who dragged you off at the school disco? Malory Towers? After you two had gone behind the bike sheds you were so green I thought you might throw up.’
Nick flicked Clive an annoyed look. He knew for a fact that Clive had promised that girl a snog if she’d scare the crap out of Bertie for him for a laugh. Bertie had been full of sixteen-year-old bluster about how he was going to ‘take a crack at some fine fillies’ before the disco. Yes, that was annoying, but ultimately harmless; there was no way he possessed the balls to even talk to one of those girls, leave alone ‘take a crack at them’. What Clive had done was cruel. Sometimes Nick forgot what a prick he could be. The problem with the old boys’ network was when you ended up with friends doing your PR for you. Nick would have felt bloody rude had he brought in any company other than Clive’s for this job. And then there was the small matter of Nick’s sister and the fact Clive was currently dating her.
‘Ah, yes, good one, old chap,’ Bertie said through a forced chuckle.
‘Give it a rest, Clive,’ Nick clipped impatiently, and Clive looked at him in surprise, making Nick feel bad that he didn’t stick up for Bertie more. ‘Thanks for all of those figures, Bertie,’ Nick said bracingly.
‘Um …’ Bertie muttered, staring at him with a blank expression.
‘You’ve really sorted a lot of the financial aspects of that deal out. I owe you one, yeah?’
‘I …’
‘Would you mind checking everything for the next meeting a sec?’
‘Uh … oh right, yes, jolly good … I’ll just be …’ Bertie jumped up from his chair, his face bright red and his movements jerky.
