‘You don’t call IT for IT problems,’ I told him.
‘I don’t?’ He looked bewildered.
‘No.’
‘Tell me, Abbey, who should I call for IT problems if not IT?’
‘You call me for everything. Am I understood, Oliver?’
‘—and so, Mr Northby,’ the voice on the phone said, ‘we have lost three full-time staff members in the last six months, and we are seriously under-resourced, so I’m very glad you called. The IT system needs a full upgrade, as we are at risk of new cyber threats. Honestly, these guys are learning new ways every day and our security systems are a little archaic and, oh, yeah, can I ask you about pay increases, while I have you, sir?’
I unmuted our microphone. ‘Who am I speaking with?’
‘Evan,’ the man on the phone said quizzically, as though he was uncertain what his name was.
‘Evan, hi. It’s Abbey Parker, Mr Northby’s assistant.’
‘Hi, Abbey.’
‘I’m so sorry, Evan, Mr Northby had an urgent phone call he needed to take. I am going to put you in touch with Kate Miller in the HR department. You can let her know if there are any issues. Your feedback is very important to us, and Kate will debrief us about your call later.’
‘Oh-kay.’
I forwarded the call to HR and hung up the phone.
Oliver looked at me. ‘I still don’t have a password, Abbey!’
I pulled out my phone and called down to security. ‘Bernice, hi! It’s Abbey. The new owner and CEO, MrOliverNorthby, is having trouble with his password to Fisc. Can you reset it for me?’ Bernice was sixty years old and had worked for the company as the secretary to the head of security the whole time.
‘Abs, no drama at all. Is that the broody one or the model?’ Bernice asked.
She was on speaker, and I shot Oliver an amused look. ‘The model,’ I said, silently laughing.
A delightful blush crept up his cheeks.
‘We’ve had worse-looking bosses,’ Bernice said before giving me a crazy-arse password that was sixteen letters long, with three special characters.
I typed it straight into his computer and then reset it for him. ‘There we go. Now, we’re late.’
‘Ah, shit. Nick will be annoyed.’
Fuck Nick.I wanted to say. Instead, I picked up our notebooks and the report he wanted and led him to the boardroom.
Nick shot Oliver a dark look as we entered the meeting and Oliver (bless his heart) looked suitably chagrined. But the look Nick pinned me with was something else entirely. Admittedly, I was probably reading things in his displeased smoulder, but it burned into me and made me long to be naked with him, listening to him whisper the ways I was going to be punished in my ear. There was something in his eyes that let me know he knew exactly the effect he was having on me, and I broke out in goosebumps and flushed.
There were two seats next to Nick, and I expected Oliver to take the chair beside his brother, but he sat in the far one, leaving me sandwiched between them, significantly more aware of one than the other.
Then I knocked Nick’s pen, which rolled on the shiny surface of the table noisily before dropping off and landing on the carpet between us.
‘Sorry,’ I said, avoiding his eyes after quickly glancing at him and finding them accusing me of having done that on purpose.
‘Sorry,’ he said in athis is your faultway.
‘If you just … I, uh, oh, sorry, I …’
‘Abbey,’ he whispered in exasperation.
We had both bent at exactly the same time, bumping into each other, but the pen had continued rolling, and had landed near my foot. I could not see it because his head was in the way, and he attempted to retrieve it while I bobbed around behind him. Eventually, he grabbed my stockinged leg and lifted it, which caused me to sit up straight and sustain a loud gasp, grasping the arms of my chair.
