Choosing Her Lover

Chapter 34

“Us?”

“Charlotte, myself and Michael.”

“Right, so….?

“I’ve been quite impressed with your performance….”

Really?

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I liked the way you dealt the situation out on the street the other day, and Ben in the downstairs lobby; even, dare I say it, the situation when Ben dragged you to our home, although I’ll admit, that’s with the benefit of hindsight.”

I flush. “You didn’t seem very impressed at the time.”

He rolls his eyes ceiling-ward. “Yes, I’ve never apologised for that, have I….”

“I don’t think you have a lot to apologise for, Sir. I feel terrible about it….”

“Well, get over it. It’s in the past. I want to talk about where we go from here. It seems to me that you handle yourself rather well in awkward situations and that being the case, I have a favour to ask of you.”

What’s he talking about?

“Right…. what is this favour?”

Perhaps I look suspicious. For a moment, he meets my eyes, his gaze level, expressionless; then he says, “Don’t misunderstand my motives, Kirstie. I’m not about to go dipping my nib in the office ink. It would be horribly unprofessional of me, and also, regardless of what Ben might think, I’m a married man.”

I flush. “I didn’t mean that at all.” Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Good. But for the avoidance of doubt….”

Time to change the subject….

“So…. what is this favour?”

He stands, pacing the room. “Kirstie, you man the lobby desk right through the day. You are in a key position. You see everyone who comes in or out of the building; workers, visitors, delivery men, couriers.… everyone. They all must go by you. You also see a lot of what passes by the building or happens in front of it. You spotted Ben the other day as he was crossing the road.” He pauses, taking a long swig of his coffee.

Choosing his words?

“I want you to do what you already do naturally and as part of your job, but do it deliberately and report back to me.”

“To you?”

“To me. You will be my eyes and ears down there.”

I sip my coffee, digesting his words. “So, you want me to…. what? Be a spy for you?”

“No, not a spy. That would imply that I’m asking you to do something underhand or illegal and that’s not it at all. Really, all I’m asking you to do is something which comes easily to you, which is to watch the people around us for any kind of threat. I think you are a ‘people-person’, good at assessing them, weighing them up, gauging their intent. That’s perfect in any case in the work you are doing. But now, it will be part of your remit.”

Tendrils of suspicion crawl through my stomach. “Is this just about Ben Summerford?”

He pauses. “No, it isn’t. I can handle that kind of thing myself rather easily, even when I have to take Michael’s feelings into consideration. Despite Marcie’s remarks to the contrary, I am not so far over the hill that I can’t handle a lightweight like Ben….”

My expression must speak volumes. He sucks in a smile. “Yes, Michael did tell me what Marcie said, and it doesn’t faze me. That female has been trying to get her claws into Michael for years. It must have come as a nasty shock to her to realise that some other woman had finally succeeded where she failed.”

I laugh. “A woman scorned?”

He flashes his brows, laughter dancing in his eyes. “Quite.”

“So, what am I watching for, then?”

“There are…. other threats to Charlotte, much more serious ones.”

Something inside me clutches. There is a cool smoothness to his words that leaves me thinking of the proverbial swan; all calm grace above water, frenzied activity down below, out of sight. “Mr Alexanders….”

“James….”

“James, I think you have to tell me more than that. It sounds as though you’re asking me to get involved in something dangerous.”

“No, I’m not asking that of you. Other people, myself included, will deal with any threat you identify.”

“Threat? What sort of threat?”

He rubs his chin, frustration passing over his features. “I wish I could answer that, but I can’t. In short, I want you to watch for anything that….” He holds up both hands in a gesture of helplessness, “…. anything that doesn’t seem right. Odd strangers, people behaving out of character, unaccountable happenings….”

“That’s all you want? For me to report what I see?”

“Yes, that’s all I’m asking for.”

“And how do I make these reports?”

“If you look under your desktop, you will find a second panic button has been installed. If you hit that alarm, Kirstie, it will come directly to my phone, and those of a number of other people.”

“Which other people?

“Michael for one….”

“Michael? You trust him with this?”

He gives me a long look, then, “Michael is utterly trustworthy, utterly reliable. I know of no-one more so. He is my oldest friend. If you can gain his friendship you have a powerful ally….”

“Michael has lots of friends.” I object. “Everybody likes him.”

James nods. “Yes, Michael gets along with everyone. He’s that kind of person. But it’s not the same thing. You will find that the group of people he calls friends, is rather small.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.”

“No, you wouldn’t. He seldom has much to say for himself. But trust me, if Michael starts talking, listen to him. It’s always worth hearing.”

I digest this. “Who else gets these alerts?”

“Charlotte herself. Also, Francis upstairs, and Richard Haswell.”

My jaw drops. “Richard Haswell? You want me to send alarm signals direct to Richard Haswell? I’m the newest and the most junior member of his company. And you want me to send messages to his phone? Where does he come into this?”

James’ voice is dry. “The last time there was a serious attempt on Charlotte’s life, the old Haswell building was burned down. Perhaps that gives you some context for the importance of this?”

He pauses, letting that sink in.

Weighing up my reaction?

“But.…” I stammer. “But everyone thought that was a terrorist attack or an attempt at ransom. That’s what the news reports said.”

He arches his brows. “The full details of that…. incident…. were not released to the news agencies, and I think that people who commit such acts could be called terrorists, don’t you?”

I drain my cup and sit, staring at the dregs. James takes the cup from my hand, refills it and pushes it back into my hand.

Sipping my coffee again, “So, the people you are watching for are dangerous then?”

“Oh, yes, very dangerous.” He leans forwards, touches my hand, “Don’t misunderstand, Kirstie. I am not asking you to get involved. I wouldn’t do that. It would be grossly unfair of me. But since you are doing the job you are anyway, I thought I’d speak with you; sound you out.”

What’s this all about?