Chapter Twenty
Ishmael
Ollie knocked and when acknowledged, poked his head through the door. “Jamal requested I tell that everything is set for Tiegan tonight. Also, your hunch was right, as if there was ever any doubt.”
“So, Kieran Murphy is a plant,” Ishmael replied, leaning back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “I had my suspicions when Kris put him top of the pile as he ticked all the right boxes just so.” He cocked his head to one side. “Whose is he?”
“He’s American, as his application states, with residency acquired via marriage. That’s where Jamal uncovered the connection. His wife is the niece of Tynesdale’s county councilman, who is planning to run for Parliament.”
“Ah, so in exchange for a hefty campaign contribution and a blind eye to things going on in his own back garden, the man sent Kieran in to spy on me and perhaps indulge in a bit of business tampering.”
“That was Jamal’s thought sir, seconded by Ezra.”
“Well, then, let’s not disappoint the man, shall we? Have Marla in HR give him a ring and arrange for a job interview. Have her set up ones with two of the other applicants, including the five marked as potential wait staff for Deluxious. We don’t want his hiring to look too easy.”
Ollie’s eyes widened. “You’re going to hire him, sir? As a manager?”
Ishmael leaned forward, a feral grin upon his face. Ollie wasn’t questioning his decision. He was asking for clarification, to learn from it. “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, eh?”
“Ah! Yes, of course. Since we’re aware he’s a mole, we can keep an eye on him, feed him misinformation from time to time.”
“Such a shame how staff room gossip is like a game of telephone, is it not? By the time something is repeated for the millionth time, it’s completely the wrong message.”
Ollie gave him a knowing grin. “Isn’t it just? Right, I’ll call down and have Marla set it up.”
“Fantastic. Now, I’m off to go meet my sweet for lunch. But, before I go, please arrange a suitable meal to be delivered to my suite this evening for him as I’ll be having dinner at the club. He’s not ready for an appearance there quite yet.”
“I’ll see to it, sir.” He poked his head back out, closing the door behind him.
Ishmael closed the file he was working on, logged off of his computer, and locked his desk before standing up. He adjusted the sleeves of his suit jacket and smoothed his tie, then strode over to the door. Ollie was still on the phone, making the arrangements he’d requested. Ishmael knew he would take his own lunch there in the office as usual. He opened the outer office door and nodded at the two men there. Rafe would accompany him downstairs while Luke would remain on the door.
“Where’s his lunch coming from today?” he asked them, referring to Ollie’s habit of having his own lunch delivered.
“He’s ordered from Bali Bali today,” Luke grinned. “I’ve never had anything from there, so he chose for me. He swears it’ll be good so I’m holding him to it.”
Rafe laughed. “Be careful. I let him do that once and he got me crickets.”
Luke paled. “Seriously?”
“Yup,” Luke replied cheerfully, entering the lift with Ishmael. The doors slid shut, cutting off their view of Luke’s now decidedly green tinged visage.
“Bail Bali doesn’t have insects on the menu,” Ishmael observed.
“I know. We were at a street food fair one weekend when he did that.”
Ishmael threw his head back and laughed. “He’s so going to get you back when he finds that out.”
Rafe laughed harder. “I know. I’ll owe him a beer after work.”
Ishmael nodded, pleased. His men kept their social circle small, socialising mainly within their tight circle. It built a camaraderie that wasn’t easily betrayed.
“Besides,” Rafe said, “I know what he ordered as he ordered for me as well. We’ve got babu guling, betutu, and a variety sharing platter of different types of satay.”
Ishmael nodded, thinking that his lovely might like to sample those dishes. If I can wrap things up early tomorrow, I can have an early tea with him tomorrow evening. He resolved to try to make it happen. He’d know shortly after lunch if it was possible, giving plenty of time for Ollie to call the restaurant and arrange delivery in time for their dinner.
The lift came to a halt and the doors opened with a soft chime. He was greeted with the vision of his pet standing nervously beside Bob, by a plant in an alcove next to the restaurant’s door. He walked towards him, offering his arm. “Shall we?” he asked.
A look of surprise flitted across Kris’ face, gone nearly as quickly as it had appeared. “Ye-es,” he stammered, taking the proffered arm.
