I did find that happening a lot. Whether I was sitting on the tube or having a quick coffee in a café, I’d find myself being drawn into conversations with strangers, where they’d tell me things about themselves you wouldn’t normally say to someone you don’t know. It had happened just this morning, when I’d gotten caught up chatting with the man at the newsagents, thus making me late with King’s papers.

“Yes, actually, I do.”

“You see. People must feel like they can tell you things without being judged.”

Ha! That was a laugh. I was a judgey little bitch sometimes. Just ask Karla.

“Huh,” was my only response.

“Well,” said King, clearing his throat. “I’d better let you go. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah, see you,” I said, and then we hung up.

Dropping my phone on my nightstand and making sure to set my alarm, I thought that today had been one for the books. I was exhausted, and as soon as I shut my eyes, I was out. However, in my dreams, King’s words seemed to echo: You have a warmth about you, Alexis.

I found I kind of liked the sound of that.

Six

The following morning, I got another call from Eleanor informing me she wouldn’t be in until after lunch, so I was responsible for the morning routine again. This time I felt more prepared. I had King’s breakfast and his newspapers on his desk when he arrived. Once Gillian had talked him through the upcoming meetings for the day, he very subtly signalled for me to come into the office. It piqued my curiosity.

Closing the door behind me, I walked over to the window as King perused a paper. I had no idea what he wanted to talk about, and he didn’t start speaking right away.

Perhaps he felt weird about the thing last night with his mum.

Glancing out and down onto the large open square beyond the office building, I spotted a new guy working the newsstand I’d been watching on the morning of my interview. A couple of customers came and went, but it was obvious that there was no longer any dealing going on.

King was still reading when I said, “Do you know there’s a new guy working the newsstand outside?”

The corner of his mouth shaped into a grin before he swung around in his chair, holding a pen to his mouth as he considered me. “Does anything get past you?”

I gave him a toothy smile. “Very little.”

He half-sighed, half-chuckled as he turned back to his desk. “I looked into the other guy after you mentioned him. Turns out you were right — he was dealing, so I got rid of him.” He paused, letting out a derisive chuckle. “Apparently, he was well known by traders around here, went by the name of Bernie Black.”

I was impressed that King had the kind of pull that he could get the guy removed just like that. I mean, he was obviously dealing for someone higher up, and this area would have been a highly profitable patch. Finally, I replied, “He actually told people his name? That’s kind of dumb.”

He stared at me sharply. “Think about it, Alexis.”

I did. Then it hit me, and I laughed. “Ah, so Bernie as in coke, and Black as in hash.”

“Now she gets it,” said King with the tone of a patient schoolteacher.

I narrowed my gaze at him. “Do you know anybody in the office who bought from him? Because they’re gonna be pissed when they find out he’s gone.”

Glacial eyes flicked up. “There’s a few I suspect, but they’ll just have to deal with it. It’s a lifestyle a lot of people who come to work here fall into. If you’re good at what you do, you can make an enormous amount of money in the blink of an eye. These people make that money, and all of a sudden they’re buying expensive cars, luxury homes, and going out every night for extortionately priced meals. However, like you said yesterday, keeping up with the lifestyle and competing for all this money is also a big part of it. Competition equals stress, and when stressed, human beings seek a way to alleviate it. One of the main outlets for stress relief is drugs. Therefore, the City is a big market for dealers, especially since the people here have more than enough money to pay for what they want. It’s a hard job keeping tabs on who’s dealing and where, especially since I’m always so busy, so I have to thank you for the heads-up.”

The warmth in his gaze made me flush. “It’s no problem.” What he’d said made me curious, so I went on, “What do you do to deal with the stress?”

He gave me a wan smile, and there was something in his expression that struck me as sad somehow. Rubbing at his chin, he answered, “Hmmm, when I’m stressed out…a nice glass of top-shelf whiskey usually does the trick.”

“That makes sense,” I said, and walked around his desk before taking a seat in front of him. “You know, I always thought it was poor people who did drugs, to escape the bleakness of their realities. Now I’m thinking maybe the practice is most common at the top and the bottom of the ladder. Perhaps the best place to be is somewhere in the middle.”

“Not necessarily. I’m at the top. Do I look high to you?”

The deadpan way in which he said it made me laugh. I leaned forward and teased, “I’m not sure. Let me have a look at your pupils.” Surprising me, King rose from his seat, walked around his desk, and came to kneel in front of me. Before I knew it, his face was mere inches from mine.

“Go ahead,” he said, voice low.

Whoa, Oliver King’s face right up close…I wasn’t sure what to do with that. I guess he didn’t realise the effect he had on this very non-gay lady, because he seemed entirely unselfconscious. His eyes were beautiful, his lashes long and golden, his skin smooth with a hint of stubble around his jaw, and his lips were just…I had no words. Sculpted and masculine was probably the only way I could think to describe them.

I realised I was staring at those lips a little too closely when my eyes flicked back to his. A moment ago he was smiling, but now that smile was transforming into a thoughtful frown.

I cleared my throat. “Your pupils look fine.”

King exhaled a small breath, and I watched as his attention went from my eyes to my cheeks, nose, chin, and then finally to my lips. He looked like he was about to say something when suddenly Gillian’s voice filled the room.

“Mr King, Jenson Gellar is on the phone. Shall I put him through?”

My heart beat wildly before I realised she wasn’t actually there. She was talking through the intercom. I watched King swallow, smooth down his shirt, and then rise to a standing position. Walking to his desk, he hit the button to reply to Gillian.

“Keep him on hold. I’ll pick up in a moment.”

“No problem,” she answered, and then the room was silent again. Whatever had passed between King and me, he seemed to be trying to push it from his mind.

Unable to stand the quiet, I asked, “So what did you want to see me about?”

I ran my hands over my skirt, noticing how King’s eyes lingered on the movement for the barest second before he brought his gaze to mine. Another beat of silence passed, and my throat grew dry. Had he been…? I felt like maybe he had a thing for my thighs, because I’d caught him staring at them a number of times now. A moment later, he deftly set two newspapers down in front of me, each open on a different story. “Read both of these.”

I cocked a brow. “Why?”

“Just read them, and then I’ll tell you why.”

“Aye, aye, captain.”

He shook his head at my response and brought his attention to the phone. Picking up, he immediately began chatting a lot of numbers to the guy on the other end, while I tried to concentrate on the newspaper articles. Both were about different companies. One was a silicone manufacturer who had just announced an expansion to its production facilities. The other was a start-up for a new social media website. I read each of them to the end and was done before King was finished with his call. Glancing up, he noticed I was finished reading, and reached for a pad and pen. Still holding the phone to his ear, he scribbled something down, then passed it to me. It read: Which of the two companies would you invest in?