Masters And Lovers 1-4 novel Chapter 75

*****

“Something wrong?”

“Your brother makes me uncomfortable. You'd think this was his home rather than mine.”

“He’s giving you trouble?”

“Not exactly. I just feel as though I'm under a microscope whenever he sees me near Charlotte.”

He curses under his breath. “I'll have a word. Tell him to back off.”

“I'd appreciate that.”

*****

It’s a relief to come to work. There’s a lot to be said for having a senior position, people all around who understand you, work you enjoy and not constantly having some interfering bastard peering over your shoulder.

I could do without all the paperwork though….

I survey the pile of files, reports, applications for permission and other crap on my desk.

I remember when I used to design bridges….

Richard enjoys this stuff….

Each to their own….

I check my watch. I have a meeting on-site within twenty minutes.

Would this be useful for her?

I tap on my phone. “Charlotte, I’m going on-site to talk with Sam Callaghan. We’ll be looking at the latest ground surveys on B-site. Do you want to come?”

“I’d like to, but I’m in a meeting myself. Do you need me there right now?”

“I can hang on for five minutes. I’ll wait by the main entrance.”

I head for the elevator, throwing “I’m going on-site Francis,” behind me. “I’m not expecting to be in again today.”

“Very well, James.”

I descend, noticing a rattle as I pass between floors twenty-two and twenty-one.

It did that yesterday….

Memo to self - call maintenance. Get them to look….

With a hiss, the elevator doors open to the lobby and I head for the doors, vaguely registering an unfamiliar face at the reception desk….

New concierge….

And I stand to wait, staring into space, running over the items I want to discuss with our site foreman.

After a minute or so, it dawns on me that I am being watched, surreptitiously, but watched nonetheless.

The concierge….

It’s her job after all….

Fair enough….

I nod in her direction, just a polite acknowledgement, and for the first time, I really look at her.

She’s young, dark-haired, not bad-looking with strong features, and….

…. familiar….

I know you….

Where do I know you from?

Then I have it. I glance back again. She looks ready to curl up and die. Clearly, she remembers me and how we met.

Inside I laugh, but that’s not fair.

No wonder she’s embarrassed.

Be nice….

That’s always part of the deal….

I walk across, slowly, trying to be casual.

“We do know each other, don’t we? It’s Debbie, isn’t it?”

She looks mortified. She’s wearing a perfectly standard white office-style blouse, but above the blouse, a crimson tide is rising up over her face.

She taps at a name-badge pinned neatly to the blouse. “Er…. Kirstie, actually.”

Again, I fight to keep the laughter from my voice and face.