When she arrived, Alex was hovering by their desks wearing a smart white shirt, dark tie and khaki chinos. Regan smirked at his outfit. He was definitely trying to impress the management. She could see he was looking flustered as she approached. ‘I’m sorry. Jarvis is playing games. The shit let me sleep in.’
‘You could set an alarm clock,’ said Alex, pulling his coffee from the tray.
‘I don’t like—’ but Regan didn’t get to finish her sentence. Alex pulled the coffee from the tray and it got a few centimetres from the desk before the lid parted company with the cup. The cup bounced on the desk and, in spectacular fashion, doused the front of Alex’s trousers with hot coffee. Alex gulped in air, making a noise like a train braking. Regan tried hard to stifle her laughter, but it was too funny.
Chapter Three
Alex stared at the stain spreading across his trousers.
‘They’re very absorbent,’ said Regan, grabbing a box of tissues from the desk opposite. ‘At least it missed your keyboard.’
‘You utter cow.’ Alex’s voice was a low grumble.
Regan’s grin slid from her face. ‘What did I do?’
He pointed at his coffee-stained groin. ‘You did this on purpose.’
‘No, you did that all by yourself, pal.’ She shook her head. She understood he was cross, but she wasn’t taking the flack for something that wasn’t her fault.
‘You loosened the bloody lid!’
‘No, I di …’ Regan thought back to the new sugar process. ‘Ah, no. You see the sugar isn’t in the little packets any more—’
But Alex wasn’t listening. ‘Just because I kicked your pen in that meeting. You do this?’
She wished he’d stop pointing at his groin. Regan did feel a sense of responsibility, but she didn’t like his assumption that she was this vindictive.
‘It was an accident, Alex. You need to calm down.’
He opened his mouth to speak, but an office dooropened at the other side of the room. Managers and the visiting director spilled out. ‘You’ll need to take my place. But then I’m sure that’s exactly what you planned.’
‘Shit. No. I’m not taking your place. Man up and say you spilled your coffee. I don’t want to go to some dull meeting,’ said Regan, throwing the soggy tissues in the bin.
Alex quickly sat down and wheeled himself under the desk to hide the large coffee stain. It was a smart move. He then leaned on his mouse mat and froze. Regan glanced in his direction. ‘What?’
Alex slowly lifted his arm to show that his once-pristine crisp white shirtsleeve now had a soggy brown coffee patch. ‘Whoops,’ said Regan, cringing. ‘Think I missed a bit.’
‘You are unbelievable,’ said Alex.
The herd of management made their way over. Thankfully, someone more ambitious than Regan led the discussion. Alex was quiet; he kept his lower half under his desk and intermittently scowled at Regan. She shrugged. It was unfortunate, but she couldn’t feel too guilty about it. It was only a meeting – it wasn’t like he’d missed the last lifeboat.
‘And Alex will be joining us to give an overview of the challenges he and his colleagues are facing with invoicing,’ said Nigel, with a confident nod in Alex’s direction. He seemed puzzled as to why Alex was facing the wrong way.
Alex twisted in his seat. ‘I, um …’ He frowned hard. ‘I think Regan should attend instead of me. She knows the department and its challenges as well as I do.’
‘Oh, well. Regan. Um. That’s …’ Nigel appeared to havedeveloped a facial tic. Regan’s mouth lifted at the side. He was clearly dreading the thought of her being let loose in a meeting with the grown-ups.
The director tipped his head. ‘Regan is an unusual name. From Shakespeare, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ said Regan, surprised that he recognised it. Most people assumed it was her surname. ‘It’s fromKing Lear.’ Her mother had had ideas well above her station so had saddled her with a name she felt was interesting and unusual. For Regan it was pretentious and annoying, but something she was lumbered with because she was too lazy to change it.
‘Excellent,’ he said. Nigel gave an uncertain smile of agreement. ‘We’ll see you later then, Regan.’
‘Can’t wait,’ she said, holding her smile in place as they filtered away. Once they were safely in the lift, she turned to Alex. ‘Ugh, thanks for that. I don’t …’ she began, but Alex got up and stormed off.
She decided she’d buy him a doughnut at lunchtime. That usually cheered him up. She’d get Kevin one too.
Her phone – which she’d remembered today – buzzed into life. It was Cleo on FaceTime. Without thinking, Regan answered it. ‘Hi.’
