It was one thing when she was getting paid to be his girlfriend and going out to dinner at restaurants surrounded by people they didn’t know. It was another to be his girlfriend and go to his office where all his staff could see (and judge) her.
She’d decided professional class was her best bet. But even when she was working she rarely wore traditional suits. Instead, she dressed, as Ben used to say, like Princess Diana with attitude (but without the hats).
That day she chose one of her old work suits. A soft fawn colour with a fitted skirt, the hem brushed her knees and it had slits up each side. One of the reasons she bought the suit was that the jacket fit like it was made for her, had a nipped-in waist and a succession of smart, intricate pleats falling from her waist at the back. She wore this with a shiny, cream satin blouse that she always unbuttoned just one button below professional, as she did today. She’d put on her mocha suede high-heeled boots, matching wide belt and you could see a hint of flesh-coloured fishnet stockings covering her knees between the top of the boots and the hem of the skirt. She wore her pearl earrings and choker her parents gave her for her wedding and her gold watch. She had blown her hair dry sleek, left it long and did her makeup in her “Edgy Professional” look. Lastly, she’d worn her mother’s taupe coat but had taken it off on the way up in the elevator and now it was over her forearm, her mocha, patent-leather clutch shoved under her arm.
She held her breath as Cash’s eyes did a sweep of her finally coming to rest on her face.
Then she watched him smile a slow, lazy, gorgeous smile and she felt that smile shoot straight from her heart, through her belly, right between her legs.
Then Abby heard, “Can I help you?”
Tearing her gaze with some difficulty from Cash’s smile, Abby turned her head to the young, attractive, very professionally dressed woman seated behind the reception desk and Abby moved toward her.
“I’m Abigail Butler. I’m here –” Abby started but the girl shot out of her seat.
“Abby. Right,” she said, rounding her desk, “Cash said you were coming.” Her head tilted to the conference room and she continued. “As you can see, he’s in a meeting but he’ll be out in a minute.” She motioned toward a hallway, walking ahead, obviously expecting Abby to follow (which she did) and went on. “I’ll take you to his office. Can I get you a coffee? We have an espresso machine. I can make you a latte or cappuccino.”
“Just a regular coffee, white and strong, if you don’t mind,” Abby replied as the woman turned to a door, opened it and led Abby in.
Abby took two steps in and halted.
It was an enormous corner office with a stunning view of Bath afforded from all of its many windows. The desk was huge, messy, covered in papers, file folders, some opened, some stacked, two phones (who needed two phones?) and Cash’s laptop.
Outside the messy desk, the rest of the office was immaculate. Just as she’d noticed in the reception area and hall, the décor was a successful mixture of traditional and modern. Wood panelled walls, heavy, elegant furniture but with modern art, fixtures and fittings.
His office not only held his desk but two large, black leather chairs facing it. There was a stylish but comfortable-looking couch with a low table in front of it against one wall as well as a smaller conference table that accommodated six to the other side. One entire wall was taken up with a built-in unit with illuminated shelves, one containing glasses, a wider one containing decanters of liquor, still others containing interesting bronze sculptures and there was even a counter with a sink as well as several spaces covered with doors and all the doors had locks.
“White coffee. Strong,” the woman said, “be right back.” And Abby turned to see her rushing out.
“Wait,” Abby called.
The woman stopped and looked back at Abby.
Abby smiled. “I didn’t get your name.”
The woman blinked at her then said, “Emma.”
At this news, Abby winced and muttered, “Oh dear,” and watched Emma blink again as Abby moved to her, “I think I might need to apologise.”
Emma was looking at her as if a spaceship was hovering outside Cash’s windows and Abby had just stepped off of it.
“Sorry?” Emma asked.
“The other day, when Moira got in an accident, you called and I didn’t let you finish. I think Cash got a little –” Abby explained and Emma cut her off.
“It’s okay,” she said quickly but shutters had come down over her eyes telling Abby that she did, indeed, get into trouble and it was anything but okay.
Therefore, Abby blurted, “My husband was killed in a car accident.” She watched Emma give a start and Abby went on. “Four years ago. I overreacted when you called. Panicked really. I tried to explain that to Cash and that I hadn’t let you finish but he was a bit, um…” How could she explain it? She tried to be tactful. “Put out that I was in that state.”
Emma regarded her for a moment then Abby watched as her gaze unshuttered and her eyes went soft. “I get it now and that’s understandable.”
“Still, I’m sorry,” Abby pressed and Emma smiled at her.
“That’s okay,” she nodded, meaning it this time, then turned saying, “I’ll just get your coffee.”
Emma left and Abby threw her coat and bag on Cash’s couch, went to the windows and looked at Bath.
Cash had asked her to arrive half an hour earlier than the others, he hadn’t explained why and she hadn’t asked. Now, clothing crisis averted, the Emma apology over, she had time to wonder why.
As she contemplated this, Abby had no idea what was going on outside Cash’s door.
She had no idea that Cash Fraser had many women come to his office. However, they were there briefly, so briefly they waited in the reception area and they were rarely offered coffee.
She also had no idea that Cash had not taken a single one of them on a business trip.
She also had no idea that his expense report for Germany had been gossiped about at length by a motor mouth in the finance department. Fuelled as well by the pictures in the papers, interest about Cash and Abby was running rampant.
Therefore, she had no idea that the traffic in the hall outside Cash’s open office door while she stood pondering his desire to have her there early was far heavier than normal.
Emma brought her coffee, chit chatted with Abby for a few minutes and then explained she had to get to her desk.
She had to do this because Emma knew that Cash would not be pleased if she chit chatted with his glamorous new girlfriend in his office instead of doing the work he paid her to do. She also did this because she could not wait to call motor mouth Jade in the finance department and tell her that this one was actually nice.
Abby had taken a few sips of coffee and had come to no conclusions why Cash would want her there early when Cash walked in.
His eyes never leaving her, he went straight to his desk, tossed a file and his pen on it and both skidded several inches across the mess before coming to a stop.
Abby watched this and her gaze went back to Cash. “You’re fond of throwing things, aren’t you?”
He didn’t answer but she watched him grin as he came to the side of the desk and rested a thigh against it, crossing his arms on his chest.
She walked to him, putting her coffee cup on a coaster she could just see from under some papers.
She motioned to his desk and remarked, “I’m surprised. You aren’t very organised.”
“Moira has a dislocated shoulder and a broken wrist,” he replied and, as she was now within reaching distance, his hands came to her waist and he pulled her closer, his arms circling her. “I made her stay home until Monday.”