Pretty Average E-Book

Arini Vlotman

• Herausgeber: Conquest Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Society should agree that growing up was a scam. One giant experiment that failed..
When Esha asks for excitement, getting thrown in the deep end of a corporate scandal is not what she meant. Esha More is celebrating her 35th birthday and her quick fix of hair dye and champagne only leaves her with a hangover and more problems. 
Kane Mittal has been called in as a consultant to manage yet another crisis. Kane has enough women making demands, but after Esha tumbles into his life he can't stop thinking about her. 
On a mission to save Esha's career and Kane's family business, together they navigate an inept flock of managers while faced with a mounting deadline, their powerful attraction, and a pandora's box of secrets. 
Join Esha and Kane in their adventurous meet-cute, a workplace romance filled with laughter, and a hefty dose of intrigue.

Leseprobe

Pretty Average

Arini Vlotman

Conquest Publishing

AConquest Publishing Original

Conquest Publishing

https://conquest-publishing.com

Copyright © 2023 Arini Vlotman

Cover Design: Abigail Baia

Edited by: Brittany McMunn

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. 

Print ISBN: 978-1-962739-02-3

EBook ISBN: 978-1-962739-03-0

Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination. 

Dedication

To my husband, Ricardo- thank you for listening to me ramble about this story for nights on end.

To my son, Kiran- one day you’ll use all the editing knowledge you now have.

Thanks Dad - always.

And finally, to the women in my life who have supported me from the day I decided to become a writer. Mum, Mira, Deepa- you know how much you mean to me.

Chapter one

The root of all evil was age. There was no way around it. Everyone said you should know what you’re doing, but there’s a little voice in your head, always there, always whispering, ‘Are you sure?’.

Society should agree growing up was a scam. One giant experiment that failed.

That sounded right.

Esha picked up her cell phone and recited the words into her Deathbed app, nodding to herself in satisfaction. The invention was her special project in the making. An app designed to prepare for one’s death; it was genius. One day her family and friends would read those words at her funeral and lament at her wisdom.

That’ll show them.

Of course, she’d be dead and wouldn’t be around to witness that profound moment. But she could remind them it was predicted before her death. She typed out a quick note on her phone, Add deathbed reminders from predeath musings.

The sound of a child’s high-pitched shout outside her car window brought her back to the present. With her phone tucked into her handbag, she took one last look at her fluffy curls in the rear-view mirror. Satisfied, she slid out of her beat-up Toyota and tapped the steering wheel for good luck. She’d read that finding a grounding symbol kept you, well... grounded. So, she tried to find as many symbols as she could.

Out from the stifling heat of the car, her arms and shoulders tingled from the warmth of the summer sun, the scent of freshly cut grass tickling her nose. She needed to add antihistamines to her next pharmacy run, the pollen was heavy enough to taste. The familiar sound of the golfing wannabe's hitting their balls in the driving range, laughter from a family getting out of their massive SUVs, and the hollers of fans cheering to a rugby match in the bar made her smile. Filled with a reviving energy that added a bounce to her step, a buzz of excitement ran through her, shaking her from her birthday funk.

While meeting her friends at the local drinking dive for celebratory birthday drinks was a steadfast tradition, she had felt less than enthusiastic this year. Death was one year closer, what was there to celebrate? The only reason she looked forward to the day was the thought of spending it with her two best friends. Getting together for a few hours was becoming harder and far between, so she cherished every moment with them.

“Oi! Ash! Stop staring at the paving and get over here.”

Esha saw her friend Amy who hollered over the cars and sounds drifting from the restaurant, making a beeline in that direction.

Amy had a set of lungs to be reckoned with, being a mum of three kids, and Esha always marvelled at her friend’s contradictory nature. A full head shorter than Esha, Amy was petite in a Bernadette from The Big Bang Theory kind of way. Like her favourite character, Amy was also a firecracker. While Esha was all thighs, hips, and bum; Amy was all boobs, chin, and smiles.

Picking up her pace, Esha dove at her friend for a hug.

“Girl, you did it!” Amy tilted Esha’s head left and right while running her fingers through her hair. “Was it worth it?”

“Hell yeah! It was torture. Six hours in that chair was a pain, but I finally got a change, like a real, noticeable change.”

Esha grinned, swinging her head like a shampoo ad model, and giving herself a surge of confidence. The week leading up to her 35th birthday was a whirlwind of activity. All the updating of wills and policies tired her out. A few days of soul-searching combined with lack of sleep gave her the perfect solution: change. A change was as good as a holiday, right? After adding turquoise streaks to her long, normal brown hair and buying a new shade of pink lip gloss that clashed with her brown skin tone, she felt not a single day younger. So, more change next time. Or a different change.

“Short of cutting the whole lot off, this is about as noticeable as it gets.”

Always adventurous with her hair, Amy sported a pixie cut with detailed etching behind her ears.

Esha caught sight of her reflection in Amy’s sunglasses, admiring the sight of the myriad of blue shades that shone back at her. The shiny strands were highlighted by the early afternoon sunlight, creating a pleasing cascade along her shoulders. Not too shabby, not too shabby at all. Too bad her hair was all going to fall out one day. Bad genes.

She linked arms with Amy as they chatted, planning their day of freedom and fun. The girls strolled through the interior of the restaurant and out to the buzzing atmosphere of the beer garden. Dozens of tables, most of which were occupied, dotted the area. Between the raucous crowd, Esha and Amy aimed straight for their usual spot.

At a table, with a glass of wine in hand, was the third in their trio. Thando was the chic one in the group, keeping them grounded and giving them the best advice. As a business lawyer, she was all fire, intimidating to both friend and foe.

“About time. I’ve been withering away in the heat.” Thando gripped as she pulled Esha and Amy in for a hug.

Esha’s spirits lifted as she looked at her friends with affection.

“So, who’s up for some rip-roaring fun?” Esha grinned as they clinked glasses. It was going to be a good day.

“Why God? Why did you have to make me old? We had a deal. Let the others grow old, but not me!”

Three cocktails, four shooters, and a few hours later, Esha was filled with a haze of birthday glory. Her shoulders bopped along with the other daytime drinkers enjoying the vibe.

“You got the quote wrong!” Thando winked at Esha, sticking out her tongue. “Besides, we’re only a few months ahead of you, heifer.” Taking out her phone, she snapped a quick picture of the three of them and shared it on their chat group.

“Urgh, why are your pictures so blurred?” Esha squinted at her screen, not sure if she was drunk, or if the picture quality was just that bad.

“The bloody insurance refuses to pay me out for my phone. All that money wasted. How was I supposed to know I’m not covered for water damage? What is this, the 90’s?”

Staring at her phone, Thando slammed it down in disgust.

“That’s daylight robbery. You should sue.” Taking a swig of her beer, Amy picked up her phone. “Should I Google it?”

“She works for a law firm, I think she’d know if she could sue,” said Esha. “What we should do is make a big hoo-ha on the socials. That’ll get their attention.”

“Nah, I don’t have that kind of energy. I’ll just have to get a new contract, and this time, make sure it’s iron clad.”

“No. No way. We can’t let them get away with it!” Feeling brave, the last tequila shooter warm in her stomach, Esha tapped on her phone and grumbled under her breath. “There, now the whole world knows the dangers of going with such a lame insurance company!” She bit her lip, frowning, “Crap, I forgot to tag them.”

“We’re getting distracted. Back to the business at hand. Toilet break, a request for Shania Twain from the DJ, and then another round!” Amy turned to Thando and glared, “And you, no flaking. It’s been ages since we’ve been out; stop sipping that wine like a pansy and get going.”

Once Thando was on board, the day turned into a blur of dancing, drinks, and selfies. Esha won a bottle of sparkling wine in a karaoke competition with a rather wobbly rendition of Cindy Lauper’s ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’. Since it was her birthday, she was voted the winner and posted her triumph on her social media profile. Thando, after another shooter, loosened up enough to dance, while Amy flirted with the bartender.

Later that night, they grabbed a drive-me-home service and lay sprawled on Thando’s couch eating pizza and waffles. How times had changed. A few years ago, they would have gone out clubbing and the celebration would have ended in the wee hours of the morning. Now, the comfort of home and food superseded a night of dancing and a day of hangovers.

Sprawled on the couch, congratulating each other on their mature decision-making skills, Esha tried to ignore the turmoil in her mind. What had she accomplished in her three and a half decades?

She was single, but single in the I-might-die-alone way, not in the I-revel-in-my-independence way. Unlike Amy, who lived for her kids, the only children in Esha’s life were the ones screaming outside her apartment at all hours. As a social media assistant, she couldn't fall back on a high-powered job like Thando, and up until the week before, she’d never felt the loss of any of those things. Not in any tangible way. But now... well, she was on the bad end of thirty with nothing to show for it. There was nothing special, nothing to look forward to; it was all… blah.

“Why so blue, Daba Doo?” Amy waggled her eyebrows at Esha as she lounged on the couch.

Amy was a happy drunk. After a drink or two, she loosened up and dropped her mother/wife/professional persona. Esha leaned toward being loud and rambunctious, always ready to do the next crazy thing. Thando, well, she was the same, drunk or not. She was steadfast and had the uncanny ability to sense when they were about to get themselves into a dodgy situation.

“I don’t know. I’m just thinking about my age and how my life turned out. I mean, don’t you guys ever wonder, is this it? Will we be doing this for the rest of our lives?”

“You’re not that old,” said Thando. “You still have your health. You still have your family, and you’ll always have us.”

“Hear, hear,” said Amy, raising her pizza in a mock salute. “You know, I read an article that the average lifespan of a human being is seventy years old. If we’re thirty-five, that means we’re halfway through our lives.”

Esha bolted upright. “OMG! You have got to be kidding me. I’m halfway through my life. Midlife. Midlife crisis?”

“Why would you tell her that?” Thando glared at Amy over the rim of her glass before turning to Esha. “You are not having a midlife crisis.”

“Well, what else could this be?” Esha slid off the couch and wobbled to grab her glass of water. “I mean, why else would I be thinking about this? Didn’t you guys feel this when you turned thirty-five, or thirty-four, or even thirty-three? What if we die at sixty or sixty-five? That means we passed our midlife. Is this what we have to look forward to? Bit by bit, we’re inching towards imminent death?”

Amy and Thando glanced at each other. A quick glance, frown, look away. Esha flared her nostrils. She knew that look. It was the secret look, the one only the two of them shared and seemed to think she never noticed. Amy and Thando had been friends since they were little with half a lifetime of memories before Esha entered their lives.

Term two had started, and Esha still hadn’t made any friends. Working on a project with Amy and Thando was going to blow bubbles.

“Aysha, will you please be our transcriber?”

Thando had a very professional-looking notebook and pens in every colour lined up on the library desk in front of her. She handed out copies of the assignments to Esha and Amy then sat back, pen poised.

“Um… it’s Ee-sha, not Aysha. My name. But with only one E.”

Three months in the same class and they didn’t know her name.

“Really? I swear Madam Botha always called you Ai-sha,” Amy said, munching on a chocolate bar, and keeping one eye out for the librarian.

“Everyone gets it wrong, and I just don’t, you know, they don’t know me…,” Esha rubbed her thighs under the table, the tips of her ears heating unbearably.

Thando and Amy shared a look. Esha had seen them doing it often in class, like they were having a silent conversation. Thando shook her head and Amy giggled.

“You should correct them, if anyone ever buggered up my name, I’d make sure they never forgot it,” frowning at Esha, Thando sniffed in disapproval, as if daring someone to come up to them right there and mispronounce her name.

Esha rubbed her chest, always the odd one out…

“Come on, you’re seriously telling me the life you have right now is perfect?” Esha demanded.

The two girls shrugged but didn’t meet her eyes.

“Of course, it's not perfect. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in eight years!” Amy said. “Jeff and I haven’t had a good… session in months. And today is the first time I’ve worn a decent bra since Macy was born and lord, it feels awful.” She shoved her hands under her top, unclipped her bra, and pulled it off with a flourish before tossing it in Thando's direction. “Ah, much better.”

“Gross much? Don’t get your sweaty underthings near me,” Thando wrinkled her nose in disgust. She grabbed a serviette from the coffee table, using it to pluck up the bra before flinging it at Esha, hitting her square in the face. Esha gagged and threw it back to Amy.

“Anyway, with all that, I still love my little monsters to pieces. With their sticky fingers and kisses at night. I love Jeff and how he lets me sleep in on a Sunday. I’m thirty-five too, Ash, but I like my life.” She turned to Thando with an eyebrow raised.

“Don’t look at me. I make great money, my sex life is epic, and I showed my bastard of a dad I’m better than him. What more could I want?” Neither of the other two girls commented on that statement; the subject of Thando’s father was better left alone.

They both had great lives, Esha acknowledged. “I’m sorry. You guys have earned all that and you’re great at it. I suppose I just want something more, something that’s especially for me. Where’s the…. magic? That special something that makes everything click, you know?”

All her life Esha believed there was something out there, a finger’s breath out of reach. If she was patient or worked hard enough that elusive feeling missing from her life would engulf her, and she would feel something. Everyone around her was so put together. Sure, they struggled and had a few pitfalls, but she had nothing. No achievements, no big, life-shattering events, it was all so boring. Life went on year after year with nothing exciting to live for.

“Oh, Hun. You’ll find your magic. Just you wait. You’re suffering a bout of the booze blues,” Amy jumped from the couch and grabbed Thando. They both plopped themselves next to Esha, wrapping themselves around her and squeezed her in a tight octopus hug. Their warm embrace, that spoke of love and acceptance, helped dissipate the doom engulfing her.

So, she didn’t have a fairy-tale life, so what? She had more in this room than most people had in a lifetime.

She extricated herself from the mound of arms and legs and stood, hands on her hips, and let out a huge burp.

Esha grinned at their disgusted expressions, and said, “Well, there’s only one way to fix that. Bring on the champagne.”

Chapter two

Monday morning rolled around quicker than Esha anticipated. As she drove to work, sipping on an extra-large cappuccino, she regretted not cashing in on her free birthday leave. Her body and mind needed the extra day to recuperate. After a few more slugs of coffee, her tummy settled, and she made a firm resolution to eschew all future offers of tequila shots. She was sure her friends felt the same.

After polishing off the champagne on Saturday night, the girls collapsed on Thando’s expensive lounge suit, falling asleep to reruns of Friends. The hangover was almost worth it, but they had all agreed champagne was also off their drinks list in the future.

Amy’s husband surprised them with a delivery of breakfast and a promise to keep the kids with his mother for the day which freed them up to recover in peace. After a good, greasy breakfast, some brufen, and copious amounts of water, the girls spent the morning looking through pictures of the night before. They laughed, and groaned, at the evidence of their shenanigans.

Esha cringed at some of their antics, but she had no regrets. Well, almost no regrets. In a year’s time, she’d have several embarrassing posts to blush over. Her hashtagging had gotten out of hand but she didn’t have much of a following, only a few old friends and elderly aunts.

Those uncomfortable thoughts shoved firmly out of her mind, Esha focused on her drive, humming to the radio as she weaved her way through peak-hour traffic. The cacophony of taxis blaring their horns along with the measured chaos of pedestrians making their way to work beat a steady rhythm in her aching head.

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as she braked to avoid a minivan who cut in front of her. A string of curses escaped her lips as she missed her exit, forced to continue down the accident riddled highway.

Her usual route, chosen to avoid the Johannesburg CBD, passed through an eclectic medley of aesthetic art and university districts all peppered with colour and character. She enjoyed the diverse energy that melded the city together and used the time to catch up on podcasts while amusing herself by counting trees, which often lifted a few eyebrows. South Africa was documented to have the largest urban jungle in the world and Esha set out to prove it, tallying up the number of trees on each road.

Resigned to the long and tedious drive between the glass skyscrapers, all of which reflected the piercing sun into her eyes like salt on a paper cut, Esha sighed and slumped in the seat. She found herself once again plagued by the stirring of unease that had settled over her in the past few weeks.

Here she was, a young(ish) woman, without the responsibilities of a family, which provided freedom often admired by her friends. A steady job meant that she was able to live in relative comfort and her healthy body, while a bit too curvy for her liking, kept her fit and energetic. The world should be her oyster.

Esha snorted as she took a sip of her lukewarm drink. If she had all these opportunities at her fingertips, why had her life stalled? Somewhere along the line, she went left instead of right, turned back when she should have gone forwards, and said no when she should have said yes. Or she was given a dud oyster that was clamped shut, not unlike certain parts of her anatomy, with sand instead of pearls.

In all her teenage dreams, never once did she imagine that she’d be a boring, almost middle-aged woman. If she bought a cat, that would complete her stereotype image.

And there was absolutely nothing wrong with getting a cat, she assured herself as she drove into her office park before banishing her morose thoughts. Her car, now overheated from the long drive, chugged, and shuddered as she slid into the allotted parking bay, which was the furthest away from the building. She gathered her laptop and handbag and glanced at her watch. If she hurried, she’d make it with a few minutes to spare.

Her boss had the tendency to set up last-minute eight o’clock morning meetings on a Monday. Esha was always singled out for being late, but today she was determined to be on time, get the team to respect her.

Her birthday resolution was to strike out and make an impact in the company. While she couldn’t change much in her personal life, she could still work of her professional goals. Although that might be easier said than done.

After almost 10 years at Dougels Insurance, her career resembled that of a toddler learning to walk, lurching from place to place while everyone looked on in exasperated amusement. If she were honest, ‘career’ was rather a broad term for her current role, but it had potential. She’d started out in the call centre selling the company’s insurance products, played right hand to an executive assistant, and worked her way into marketing. While it was a step in the right direction, she was a far cry from being an expert in her field.

And she wouldn’t make it much farther if she didn’t hustle. Esha added a burst of speed to her stride and decided to cut through the call centre entrance to save time. She managed to slip through the door and into the main hallway to take the stairs, all the while juggling her car keys, company access card, handbag, travel mug, and laptop.

This part of the building was still quiet. The morning shift started at nine o’clock because according to ‘market research’ the public didn’t want to think about rubbish, like life expectancy, before coffee.

As she swept up the stairs, keeping a look out for any of the floor managers, Esha hitched up her laptop bag, catching a glance of her skirt as she did. The bag had snagged the bottom of her knee length skirt, pulling it precariously high up her leg while the zipper threatened to run a ladder down her new pantyhose.

“Oh, for goodness sake.” she huffed, and walked smack into a large and rather masculine body.

Esha flung out her arms for balance, stumbling back in surprise, and dropped her mug and keys in the process. She teetered on the edge of a step for a second, envisioning her crumpled body lying below her. The image galvanized her into action, and she hastily grabbed the person standing in front of her. Her laptop bag lurched forward, connecting with the upper regions of her victim’s legs. She winced when she heard a grunt, followed by a ferocious string of curses. At least her skirt was now free.

Nose to chest with her saviour, Esha looked up to thank him but knocked the top of her head against his jaw instead. The resulting clack was deafening and if the throbbing pain in her skull was anything to go by, she caused a good amount of damage.

She opened her mouth to apologise, but before she could utter a word, she was brought to a halt by two strong arms locked around her.

“Dammit, hold still for just a moment before we both end up in a heap at the bottom of the stairs,” A gruff voice rumbled above her.

Her body, now flush against the stranger, vibrated in response to the deep sound. Talk about an awkward situation. A few seconds ticked by, and her curiosity piqued. As she tried to control her heart rate, Esha wracked her muddled brain for something to say or do to break their stalemate. Her hands, which were locked between their bodies, trembled as she wondered what the muscles concealed beneath the well-tailored shirt would feel like.

What an absurd thought. Clearly, she was in desperate need of a date.

Irritated with her wayward mind, she shifted her body, hoping to end the painful awkwardness. A second later, the firm grip that bound her eased enough to free her arms. Relieved, she shuffled back, allowing herself to be maneuvered away from the edge of the stairs. Esha adjusted her blouse and tried to slow down her breathing.

“I think this is yours,” the mystery man held out her handbag as Esha got her first real glimpse of him.

This man was not the usual type of specimen that traipsed the corridors of Dougels. He was better dressed for one, wearing a dark suit over a navy-blue shirt that was left unbuttoned at his throat. The cut of his jacket emphasised a body that was formed from a daily fitness regime, unlike the saggy beer bellies that Esha was used to seeing in the corridors.

He clutched his jaw, tersely moving it from side to side. She heard the scrape of his hand against his light beard, annoyed by the zing of attraction running up her spine. Dark hazel eyes, now trained on her, reminded Esha of the look her friend Justin had given her when she rear-ended his new BMW. That look did not bode well for her, and she took an involuntary step back.

Her body bumped the wall, and she winced as her skull throbbed in protest, the remnants of her headache flaring back to life.

“Did I hurt you?” The gruff voice held a note of concern.

She glanced up and shook her head.

“No. I don’t feel so great.” She massaged her temples and continued, “I wasn’t watching where I was going because ladders happen so quickly, then my skirt was riding up, and my boss always makes the worst comments, so I rushed without looking.” She waved her hand and trailed of. “Anyway, sorry about this.”

“I didn’t understand half of what you said, but apology accepted. A word of advice though. Next time perhaps it would be wiser to stay at home if you aren’t feeling well. Especially under the current circumstances. We don’t want another workplace incident on our hands.”

Esha's mouthed dropped at the condescending tone. The least the man could do was apologise in return.

“I’m perfectly fine thank you very much. Perhaps you were the one who bumped into me.” She glared up at him. “A word of advice, maybe you should watch where you’re going. These stairs can be quite dangerous you know.”

“Why didn’t I think of that? Next time I’ll remember that nugget of wisdom before I barrel headfirst into a perfect stranger.” The sarcasm oozed from a set of perfect lips.

“I didn’t do it on purpose. This place is usually empty at this time.” The thought made her pause. “Who are you anyway? And just how did you get access to this area?”

“That’s no concern of yours,” his voice echoed in the small space. “And why exactly do you want to know?”

“I know every single face in this building, everything about this business, who comes and goes. And you don’t belong here.” Her voice rose in indignation.

“Well, isn’t that interesting.” An assessing look crossed his face, making Esha wonder what the stranger was thinking.

Unsure how to respond, Esha bit her lip. A head taller than her, their close proximity forced her to tilt her head up, closing the distance between them, as she stared into the swirling eyes looking down at her.

Something changed between them, their previous anger turning into a spark of awareness. The probing gaze that bored into hers caused a flush of heat to run down her body and her breath hitched.

The overhead fluorescent bulbs, dimmer here than in other parts of the building, flickered above them, leaving parts of the staircase in shadow.

Her unexpected response surprised her. This man was like the proverbial white van, luring her in with his model-like looks instead of candy.

The buzz of her phone gave her a jolt and sanity returned. She was late.

“Right, I’ll leave you to it.” She announced, moving towards the stairs, her steps awkward in the tight space.

“Aren’t you going the wrong way?” The matter-of-fact tone made Esha wonder if their moment of awareness was one sided. The tips of her ears burned.

“Yes. I was going the wrong way. I mean, I just realised I rushed past my floor.” Her last words were drowned out as a cacophony of sound erupted. Startled, Esha felt a yank on her wrist, tugging her forward. An arm snaked around her waist, and she felt herself enveloped by a wall of protection.

The shrill pitch of the building’s emergency alarm echoed around them making her wince. As quickly as it came the blaring stopped, leaving a rasp of ragged breathing in its wake.

Palpable tension radiated from the body holding her. She glanced up, feeling a slight tremble in response to her movement. Gone was the arrogant demeanour of a few moments before. Now she sensed fear, or maybe anxiety?

“It was a false alarm. We have them frequently enough we don’t pay much attention anymore. It can still be a jolt, though,” Esha kept her voice light, watching the rapid pulse in the arch of the man’s neck. “We’ve complained so many times that the superintendent keeps threatening to switch the darn thing of. He can’t, of course. It’s against safety regulations, but it’s still entertaining to see him flounder about.”

The arms encasing her relaxed, but the stranger still held his spine rigid and straight. Maybe she could help him along. “We’ve got a bet going in the office for how long it takes before he erupts…”

Now was not the time to lose control, Kane chastised himself as he listened to the woman ramble on about the building and all its safety violations. He appreciated the effort. The storytelling lilt in her voice helped more than her words, each sentence carrying him further away from his momentary panic. He had been enjoying their exchange. It wasn’t every day a beautiful woman literally ran into him and then fought with him about it. But that blasted alarm had jarred him. The sound, combined with the small area, disorientated his senses and he acted on instinct.

Wasn’t it interesting his instinct was to scoop up the woman and hold her close. It was no doubt the air of vulnerability that he sensed about her. He tabled the thought for later and concentrated on relaxing and loosening his hold on her. No matter how attractive she was, he did not particularly enjoy being taken by surprise.

“Are you ok?”

Her voice softened as she stared up at him, a frown on her face. They looked at each other for a lingering moment, her features the focus of his attention. A small scar marred her right eyebrow, giving it a perfect arch. The imperfection struck a chord, and he wondered how she received it.

“Yes. Sorry about that. I was struck with an ear infection as a child and the effects sometimes still rears its ugly head.” Their bodies were inches apart, creating a sense of intimacy that was at odds with their surroundings. He dropped his arms, realising he still had a hold on her. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “It happens to the best of us. My brother has tinnitus and sometimes the smallest thing sets him of. You can imagine how stressful flying is for him.”

The connection broke along with their contact. Kane shook his head, dispelling the unfamiliar haze.

“Fortunately, this type of thing doesn’t happen often, but I can sympathize.” He reached down to pick up her scattered items, his gaze drawn to her lower body, and he tried not to stare at her hips, legs, ankles… Averting his gaze, he straightened, impatient with his reaction.

“I don’t think it matters how often it happens. Each time feels like the first. Like your reality changed and your body has been displaced.”

He titled his head, surprised by the astute comment. “It sounds like you know the feeling well.”

“I suffered from night terrors well into my twenties. Every time I woke up after one of them, that’s how it was for me, and I hated it.” Kane watched a wisp of dark hairbrush against her cheek as she shrugged.

“How did you get over them?”

Her eyes darted to the side; she frowned while she considered her answer. It was a personal question, not something he’d ask a total stranger but what part of this experience was normal. The candid turn of their conversation intrigued him.

“I grew up, I suppose. Whatever scared my subconscious was no longer a threat, so it just stopped.” An easy smile replaced her frown. “I guess getting older isn’t all that bad.”

“No, it isn’t. At least not in my experience. There’s a certain freedom that comes with maturity. You know who you are, what you want. Not even the boogeyman can scare you anymore.”

She looked at him then, straight in his eyes. This time he saw nothing but the rich, earthy swirl of her dark irises. So dark they were almost black b. Hints of brown captured the light and held his attention, making him wonder if all eyes looked like hers.

“And you seem to be familiar with the boogeyman.”

“Aren’t we all?” He forced himself to break from her gaze, realising he was staring. He ran his eyes down her body, and when she cleared her throat, brought them back up. “You haven’t sustained any damages, I see.”

She glanced down and back up at him, a crinkle forming at the corner of her curved lips. The small, embarrassed smile broke the electricity bouncing between them, snapping him back to reality like an elastic band.

“Ha. Wouldn’t that have been the perfect way to start my day?” She shook her head, adjusting the laptop bag somehow still secured on her shoulder. “I think I can safely assume I’m not going to make it to my office on time.”

Her comment reminded him he was not there to make small talk. How could he have forgotten the tall list of tasks he had to yet accomplish, and considering why had been called to Dougels, he could not afford any distractions. Irritated at his lack of discretion, Kane handed her the rest of her things, and straightened his shirt.

“Right. We’ve both got things to do. This is a place of business after all.” He held out his hand for her to pass and caught the flash in her eyes.

She hesitated, her lips parting before she nodded, and moved past him up the stairs. He was about to remind her she was supposed to be heading down but thought better of it. If the speed of her steps where anything to go by, he had effectively erased any warm feelings she had towards him.

Her hips swayed with her movements, and he remembered the soft touch of her waist in his arms. A perfect fit. Kane opened his mouth to ask her name, but he was too late. The door slammed behind her, leaving him alone to puzzle through the encounter.

Chapter three

Afew minutes later, after giving herself a once over in the bathroom, Esha walked onto her department floor. Despite the hasty drink of water, the effects of her impromptu run in on the stairs with the mysterious stranger left her flustered. She waved at the receptionist, Martha, who was already on a call. She rushed to her desk and shoved her things away, grabbing a notepad and pen. As Esha walked to the boardroom, she realised something was off.

First, everyone was huddled around in groups and not in the usual meeting. Second, they were all whispering and glancing around in the most suspicious manner. While no one was sunny and upbeat on a typical Monday morning, the atmosphere today was downright morbid. Last, and the most alarming, was every phone on the floor was ringing. The shrill chimes were like hammers to her head.

She reached to grab the phone next to her and froze when pandemonium broke out.

“Do not answer that phone,” said the familiar, authoritative voice.

Esha spotted her work BFF, Kate, rushing towards her. As soon as Esha stepped back from the ringing phone, everyone took a breath and resumed their hushed conversations. This day kept getting weirder.

“It’s all over the news…”

“He’s vanished they say…”

Kate reached her side and gestured for Esha to follow. “I take it that you haven’t heard?”

“Heard what? And where are you taking me?”

“Coffee first, then we’ll find a quiet place,” Kate’s voice dropped as they passed a group of interns. “You are not going to believe what’s going down.”

“Did someone get caught having an affair? I bet it’s Mike from Sales.”

Kate snorted loud enough to be heard over the coffee machine.

“You know Ash, for someone who works in the hub of the business, you know very little.”

“Well, I’d know more if someone would just tell me,” she hissed.

Esha grabbed their mugs and hustled Kate to the closest meeting room, about ready to scream. Kate was a good friend, their friendship forged over shared experiences. If there was anyone who thrived on drama, it was Kate. Almost every week she regaled Esha with stories about affairs, disciplinary hearings, who had been hired or fired… Kate knew everything that happened at Dougels, but even for her this was a bit much.

“Did you watch the news last night?” Kate asked, knowing what the answer would be. Esha shrugged; the news was the last thing on her mind.

“Scroll through Twitter, LinkedIn, or anything?” Kate pushed on.

“Kate, I love you like a sister, but I’ve had a really bad morning so would you just tell me already?” Her mug rattled in her hands, sloshing coffee on the carpet.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” Kate rolled her eyes. “The news broke yesterday; all the big media channels are covering it. I mean the phones have exploded and word from management is we can’t speak to anyone. Can you believe it? Radio silence,” she mimed, zipping her mouth shut and raising her eyebrows, waiting for a reaction.

“For heaven’s sake, Katherine. What. Is. The. News.” Esha was on the verge of erupting.

“Oh, yes, sorry,” Kate said, ducking her eyes in chagrin. “The Owner, CEO, and Man of the hour, one Mister Harold Dougel Snr, has been arrested for fraud and embezzlement. Word is that an elite police force went to his house to arrest him and found bundles of cash, illicit papers, and a whole host of stolen bonds. All the head honchos are being investigated and guess what the best part is? He skipped the country. Emptied out all the company’s bank accounts, and he’s just gone.”

“What?” Esha’s voice rose to a level she didn’t know she was capable of. “Cheery old Harold? A thief? Get out.”

“I know, right? I’d never have suspected him either. But the media vans have been here since five o’clock in the morning. They’re like vultures, that lot.”

As much of a gossip monger that Kate could be she hated mainstream media. Once started, she could rant and rave for hours.

“Media? Where?” Esha thought back to her drive into the office park. While the queue getting past the boom gates was longer than usual, she hadn’t seen anything else.

“Earth to Ash,” Kate gestured to the large, wall sized window in the meeting room.

Esha walked over to the window and looked down. Below lay the main entrance to the building as well as the VIP and visitors car park. And it was packed end to end by media vans, reporters, cameras, and security. As they watched, one of the senior managers tried to make his way to the entrance of the building but his progress was hindered by the dozens of microphones shoved in his face. Two security guards did their best to clear the way for him, but they didn’t have a chance in hell.

“Is that Jabu and Piet?” Esha said, pointing at the two overwhelmed security guards. They were both quite sweet and didn’t have an aggressive bone in their combined bodies. “They’re getting eaten alive.”

The girls watched in fascination as the two men were swallowed by the crowd while other staff members made a mad dash to the door.

“Wait, why don’t you know about the media frenzy?” Kate looked at her friend in confusion.

“I snuck in through the back and thank goodness because I missed all that!” replied Esha.

“It was a close call. A few reporters managed to sneak into the building and interview a few people. Anyway, word up top is there’s something fishy going on.” Esha gave her blank stare. “I mean, fishier than the current fishy business, like deep sea fishy, crabs, and sharks, and…” Kate trailed off, forgetting her train of thought.

Esha shook her head, laughing at her friend’s antics. Working in this crazy house of a company was never boring.

“What exactly are the top brass saying about all this?”

“Every one of them are running around like headless chickens.” She leaned towards Esha. “Want to know something interesting?” Kate rushed on before getting a response. “There’s a mysterious bigwig who’s been called in to sort this all out. You know things are heating up when they bring in the big guns.”

“I don’t envy the person who has to deal with this,” Esha replied as they continued to watch the circus below.

Once the raucous died down, Esha and Kate drifted back to the main floor. Mr. Taser, or Tosser as they nicknamed the head of their department, tried to get them to go back to work but gave up when someone pointed out they were forbidden from working. A very formal email had arrived in their inboxes late Sunday night with a list of Do’s and Don’ts for Dougels staff, including posting on social media. Anyone caught in an unauthorized activity would face immediate dismissal.

Once the shock wore off, staff realised they were getting a free pass on working, and relaxed. The company was not the best place to work under normal circumstances. No team building, ping-pong tables, bright walls, or war cries. The coffee sucked, and while every so often someone complained to HR, they received the same clichéd response about ‘budget cuts’ and impacting the ‘bottom line’. So, everyone clutched on to any excuse to lift their mood.

All the executives were sequestered in a meeting room on the top floor brainstorming over how they could save their own skins. It was very hush-hush with one of the secretaries posted outside to ensure there were no disturbances. According to her, it was a heated virtual conference with the company’s lawyers and shareholders. She swore she heard shouting and something being thrown against the wall.

Left to their own devices, the rest of the staff wandered around, exchanging rumours, and watching the news channels on TV screens scattered around the building. A group of interns ordered food to fuel to the flames, entertained by the chaos the delivery guys created when they tried to enter the building.

Dev, one of the marketing managers who sat at the desk next to Esha, turned to her with a look of speculation on her face. “Ash, didn’t you used to work for old Harold?”

All heads swivelled in her direction as if she had all the answers.

“Well, I didn’t really work for him directly. I was the assistant to his personal assistant, Robert.”

“Still, surely you spoke to him, had access to offices, and files and such?” asked Lebo. One of the new recruits in the team, Lebo was always going on about the success she’d achieved prior to Dougels, referring to herself as a marketing guru. “When I had a PA, she was privy to my entire life. I don’t know how I manage without her.”

Everyone rolled their eyes, used to Lebo’s humble brags.

“Kind of... but I just did the admin, typing, getting coffee, filing, catering for meetings, that sort of thing. Robert was the brains behind the operation. I mean, in just a year he turned the whole operational department around and Mr. Dougel Snr left him to do most of the heavy thinking.”

Her lack of information disappointed the team, and they resumed their rumour mongering.

Esha frowned, wondering how many times she’d be questioned. She worked with Harold for a few years and couldn’t imagine him in the light he was being painted. He was a decent boss, a bit gruff and old-fashioned at times, but he had often let the admin staff leave early on a Friday or bought them lunch for no reason. He was an old school businessman and lived by the belief deals happened on the golf course. His personal assistant, Robert, was the one who made most of the decisions, which raised a few eyebrows. Esha heard Robert was the son of one of the major shareholders and Harold was forced to hire him.

Robert had hired Esha a few months after he started in his role on the premise. He needed to help Harold with the more strategic business functions, leaving the admin to his assistant. The arrangement worked well, and Esha had felt quite important, putting both gentlemen on a pedestal. Robert also taught her several valuable lessons about being in ‘corporate’ and the three of them enjoyed a good working relationship. When Robert was promoted to a managerial role, Harold arranged for Esha to be moved to marketing. He decided he didn’t need a personal assistant and left the admin to the pool of secretaries. At the time, Esha thought it was a strange move What business owner didn’t need a personal assistant? But she received a hefty bonus, so she had no cause for complaint.