Nigel: For the charity ball. Have fun.
I’d reply, but there’s no point. The cabin crew will be telling everyone to turn their phones off any moment now.
I check the work calendar. The charity ball is tomorrow night in the arse end of nowhere. The costume theme isA Christmas Carol. At least I know who I’m going to dress up as. Scrooge. But where the hell am I going to get a costume at such short notice? If only I had a PA who could do that shit for me, but Nigel decided we didn’t need a PA. A driver, yes. A PA? Waste of money. Fuck Nigel.
So much for lying in this morning. I drag myself out of bed and through the shower, then make the mistake of putting the radio on to listen to the news over breakfast. I’m assaulted by ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham, which would have thrown me straight into Whamhalla if I played that game. I don’t, Nigel does, as do half the staff who work at Elevated. As a result, it’s banned from the Christmas mix that Nigel insists on playing throughout December. He jokingly refers to Elevated as a ‘safezone’. The first thing I’m going to do when I get to the office this morning is change the damn music.
Eventually, the news does come on. First national, and then local. Train delays and rain. What a fabulous combination. Why did my brother decide to locate Elevated in central London? It would be far cheaper to have premises in the commuter belt.
My waterproof jacket keeps my top half dry on the walk to the tube station, but my trousers get splashed by passing cars whose drivers refuse to avoid the puddles near the gutters. By the time I’m on the platform, my lower legs are cold and damp, and my mood has nosedived even further. I want to go back to bed. I should have flown off to sunnier climes rather than planning a relaxing staycation. Nigel wouldn’t have been able to dump all his responsibilities on me if I were in another country. But I’m not.
The plus side of living near the start of a route is that the train isn’t too crowded to get a seat. By the time we’re nearing zone 1, it’s a very different story. We’re packed in like sardines, and I’ve given up my seat to a heavily pregnant woman. Luckily, I’m tall, so I don’t have my nose stuck in someone’s armpit.
Two tube changes later, and I’m heading towards the surface and the short walk to the redbrick building Elevated is in. It used to be a Victorian workhouse, so it has tall ceilings and huge windows. All the manufacturing is outsourced, so we only have the design, customer services, and fulfilment teams to house—oh, and stock. Nigel rented the entire first floor, a vast open-plan space he separated into zones. One end is partitioned off to house the toilets, stock room, and Nigel’s office, which will be my office while he’s away.
Impatient drivers honking their horns pack the roads. The pavements are full of people who look as thrilled as I am to be heading to work this close to Christmas. Twins pull an exhausted-looking woman along towards the tube station, whilethey chatter about what they hope to find in Hamley’s. Why they’re racing to a toy store that isn’t even open yet is beyond me. I pass by a man sleeping in a navy-blue sleeping bag in a doorway. He’ll get chased off by the store owner soon. I pause long enough to press a ten-pound note into his hand.
Then I’m entering the lobby and reception area, which is shared by all the businesses in the building. Abbey, the receptionist we all contribute to hiring, gives me a puzzled look.
“I thought you weren’t in until after Christmas.”
“I wasn’t supposed to be, but Nigel had other ideas.”
She arches a plucked eyebrow. “Oh, well, it’s good to see you.”
I doubt that, especially as I must have a face like a thundercloud right now.
I use the stairs, rather than the lift, and go to the first floor. Elevated’s logo—an aubergine pointing upwards—hangs above the entrance to our section of the building, leaving no doubt as to the nature of the business—sex toys.
I unlock the door and stride straight to Nigel’s office.Myoffice. For now. I have to get my head around how many orders we need to fulfil versus how many fulfilment staff we have, given how close to Christmas it is. Once I’m sure we’re going to cope and not break any promises, I’ll need to find a costume for the charity ball. With any luck, I’ll be the only man in the whole of London who wants to dress up as Scrooge tomorrow night.
2
ROWAN
“Morning!” I put a piping hot latte and a fresh bagel on Rubin’s desk.
Elevated is buzzing with hard work vibes this morning. Cheerful Christmas music is playing, and almost everyone is swaying along to it. A few tuneful people are singing along over in fulfilment. Rubin is a graphic designer and the first person to speak to me when I started working here. Not that workhereexactly. I work for Elevated, but I’m not technically based in the office. I just hang out here when Nigel, the boss, doesn’t need me to drive him anywhere. He has two gorgeous cars, and I get to drive and take care of them. It’s my dream job.
Rubin takes the plastic lid off the cup and inhales the scent of the latte. “Thanks. You’re cheerful this morning.”
“Of course I am. It’s almost Christmas.”
“You might not be when you find out we’ve had a boss switch,” he whispers.
I widen my eyes. “Tall, dark, and handsome is in charge?”
“If you mean Damon, yes. And he’s really not happy about it.”
“Huh.”
“What did I do to deserve breakfast?”
“Christmas spirit? I had to grab breakfast for myself, and I figured you might have skipped.”
“You know me so well.”
“I’m honestly surprised you get to skip breakfast with two Doms in the house.”
