‘Your latte.’
Margaret hands over the blue cardboard cup then adjusts her glasses on the bridge of her nose.
‘Thank you.’
‘And here’s your paper mail.’ She gives me a stack of documents, already opened and sorted. ‘Only the top three need to be actioned. Pop the others in your filing tray when you’ve looked at them and I’ll scan them into files for you. Oh, and there’s one more thing.’
She totters out of my office in her nude kitten heels, skirt swishing as she walks.
I’m sifting through last night’s emails when a mass of bright white enters my peripheral vision. An absolutely gargantuan bouquet of flowers shields Margaret from my view, her head poking around one side to see where she’s headed.
‘These came for you not long ago.’
She places them down on my desk with an expectant look on her face. Rising from my chair to appreciate the bouquet in its full glory, I take the small red envelope and slip out the card.
I’m going to remind you every day how much I love you.
Always. G x
Beaming, I breathe in the mix of white roses, lilies, Queen Anne’s lace, chrysanthemums and a heap of other beautiful white flowers I don’t recognise but which smell divine.
‘Looks like you had more than one reason to come home early,’ Margaret says with a mischievous glint in her eye.
I try not to confirm that she’s hit on thebiggestreason I wanted to come home, but I’m pretty sure my face is a dead giveaway because she’s practically singing, ‘Young love.’
Rolling my eyes, I move my flowers to the window ledge. ‘We need to discuss my schedule, Margaret. I’m going to have a lot to juggle before I leave for St Lucia. I still have work to do for Mr Ghurair and Mr Ryans has sent across a new deal for one of his companies, Constant Sources. I’ll be taking my phone and laptop on leave with me, so it’s not a complete shutdown for two weeks, but I will be trying to work as little as possible whilst I’m away.’
‘Well, luckily you were never supposed to be in the UK so you don’t have any face-to-face meetings planned. You do have a couple of conference calls but they appear to be catch-ups more than anything, so I’ve already looked at times to rearrange for when you return.’
She comes round to my side of the desk, standing over my shoulder and I open the Outlook calendar to my screen. ‘Who are they with?’
‘Hugo Delaney of DDI International a week today.’
‘Ah, yes, his father’s retiring and Hugo is replacing him on the board of DDI. That can wait; I just want to make sure he knows who I am.’
‘The other was Spencer Cromwell.’
‘MD of Charleston Beverages. Hmm, I would prefer not to rearrange that one, actually; he won’t take too kindly. When is it supposed to be?’
‘Monday at twelve.’
‘GMT?’
Margaret nods and moves my mouse to locate the appointment in my calendar.
‘Let’s keep that one.’
‘Of course. Mr Ryans would like to schedule a negotiation meeting at his offices before you fly out. He’s asked for tonight or tomorrow morning.’
‘I can’t do today; I have to draft a due diligence report for Mr Ghurair’s final deal. Could you speak to his PA and arrange something for late afternoon or evening tomorrow?’
‘Absolutely. Is there anything else?’
‘Not just now. Thanks, Margaret.’
As she exits, Amanda swoops into the room in a fitted, electric-blue dress that shows her growing bump, her red hair bouncing and thick, her skin truly glowing.
‘Look at you!’
