A pause.
“Wait. Mr Gallagher? The Conrí Gallagher?” She said it like he was a celebrity.
“Yes. Yes. The CEO.”
“What should I wear?”
“What?”
“You know. For the meeting,” she said, then paused.“God, what if he speaks to me and I freeze?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Just picture him shitting himself.”
She barked out a laugh so loud I pulled the phone away from my ear.
“I’ll email you what I have, if you have anything—”
“Don’t you think he’s hot though?” she said.“He’s Irish but sadly doesn’t have the accent. They moved from Ireland when he was five or six. He has a brother.”
“Damn, Francis. Stalk much?”
“No, there was an article. You’ll never guess about his brother though—”
“I’ll email you. Bye, Francis.”
I disconnected before she could finish.
Don't get sucked in, the voice murmured.
I opened the email that I’d sent him initially, checked all the attachments and forwarded it to Francis. She was probably still fan-girling over him.
It wasn't until later that I wondered what it was that I could get sucked into.
??????
I logged off from my work systems early and opened a blank presentation.
After thinking about it, I’d decided this was an opportunity. Andy wouldn’t be there. Claire had been all too happy to pass the task to Francis and me—practically relieved, if her tone was anything to go by. Nobody was going to swoop in and take credit for this one. For once, there was nobody left to swoop.
It took a few hours to build it properly. I was careful—structure, data, the budget anomalies documented cleanly with context, the testing outcomes presented in a way that a CEO could follow without needing the technical background. I knew this project better than anyone currently upright. That was going to be obvious tomorrow and I was done pretending otherwise.
I sent Francis a copy, made a note to run through it with her in the morning, and closed the laptop.
The flat was quiet. Finley was still at his mum’s—still a little upset from what I could gather, though I wouldn’t know for certain since I’d blocked his number and that worked perfectly well for me.
He would need to come and collect his belongings. But him blowing up my phone with drunk angry and sad messages at random hours was too much. I couldn't understand why he was so upset. Our relationship had long fizzled out. We both knew it.
The silence that used to feel like absence now felt like something else entirely.
Space. Just space and peace.
I made tea, pulled my legs up on the sofa, and let my mind drift.
It drifted, unhelpfully, to dark hair curling slightly at the collar. A jawline that could probably cut glass. Quite a thick neck, actually, the kind that suggested—
Go read a book.
