Danny rolled his eyes at me. “My PA. She’s annoying, but she’s got a great typing speed.”
I tried to remember if Danny was always a prick to people to whom he felt superior. I was struggling to recall anything about the nights out we’d had together other than there being a lot of alcohol. I liked to think that his rudeness was one of the many reasons I’d never particularly liked him.
“Working in events must suit you,” I said. “You were always the party boy.”
“I turned doing what I love into a job!”
“How’s it going with the big Balgray Hall event?”
“Pretty much sorted!” Danny tapped the pile of booklets on the table. “The Balgray Hall lot are, like, a hundred years old and only ever want printouts. They don’t give a shit about the environment.”
“Do you?” I tried not to stare at the booklets. I needed one.
“Fuck, no. It’s just annoying having to print everything.”
“It’s a charity event, right?”
Danny shrugged. “Yeah, something about saving old posh houses.”
I got up and went to the sideboard to pour myself a coffee. I felt him stand up and lean behind me.
“You’re looking good, Haze.” He ran a hand down my back. “Considering.”
I turned round to face him. “Umm…considering what?”
“You know what I mean. You’re older. Had a kid.”
I gritted my teeth. “Two, actually.”
“Cool.” He stared down at me.
I was already three steps ahead. When he finally reached out and grabbed my right breast, I kneed him hard in the balls. When he keeled over groaning, I slammed my elbow into his back and had the satisfaction of him letting out an actual squeal. I reached for one of the Balgray booklets on the table and headed for the door.
Even without him laying a nonconsensual hand on me, I still would’ve hurt him for the “considering” comment.
I wasn’t an idiot. I knew what he’d been hoping for when he’d asked me here. I’d planned to lean into it enough to get me into the office. But he’d misread the signs so badly that he thought some teenage pawing at my breast was going to lead to me cheating on my husband, cheating on my family. Tragic.
I couldn’t tell Fox. I wasn’t in the mood for a resounding “I told you so.” I was well aware of the weaknesses of men, but was it too much to ask that I could just plunder one for a bit of useful information without being sexually assaulted?
I thumbed through the booklet in the lift. A confirmed guest list, a running schedule, and even a list of auction prizes. Not a bad prize for a tit grope.
I sent Jenny photos of everything.
My phone pinged. The Chameleon.
An envelope is waiting for you at home.
Jenny had been unable to get any trace on his mobile. It wasn’t surprising. He was a professional. He wasn’t going to risk texting me unless he knew it was completely safe.
Enough of this shit. What do you want with us?
His reply was instant.
I like your bluntness.
Great, don’t kill us then.
I don’t want to kill you. But you’re making it difficult. My bosses want you dead.
