Chapter 33

“I spoke with Kirstie a few days ago. She didn’t want to talk to me, gave me a real piece of her mind.…”
James side-glances me then returns his attention to Ben. “She told me that, well, all of you are
volunteers in what you’re doing and that’s it’s really none of my business and…. that I should apologise
to you.”

James pauses, digesting his words. “It’s not me who needs the apology, Ben. I can understand why
you felt the need to defend your brother. But Charlotte is a different matter.”

“I know, I know. Is she here? I’ll talk to her while you’re present if you would prefer that. I’m guessing
that you don’t want to leave me alone in her company…”

“You are quite correct there,” says James. “Kirstie, can you call Charlotte, please. I believe you will find
she is in her own office, extension 4528.”

Back at my desk, I tap the number, “Um, Charlotte, it’s Kirstie here from the front desk.”

“Yes, Kirstie. What is it?”

“I’m in the small conference room by the lobby with James and Ben Summerford. James is asking if
you could join them.”

There is a long pause, then, “I’ll be there shortly.”

Five minutes later, Charlotte walks in, her expression unreadable.… no….

What is that expression?

Certainly, she’s not afraid of Ben. Quite the contrary, I think she would launch herself at him given the
freedom to do so, but James points her to a chair, backing it up with a brusque nod.



Definitely an order, not a request….

Dom and Sub?

She looks rebellious but obeys.

James, very noticeably, moves to stand, not exactly between Ben and Charlotte, but very close to it.
Then he simply waits, arms folded, looking at first at Ben, then at the floor.

Ben is all but stammering. “I wanted to apologise, Charlotte. I didn’t understand. I’ll admit that really, I
still don’t. I thought you were.… betraying my brother. It’s obvious that you’re not. If Mike’s happy, then
it’s not for me to interfere.”

Charlotte’s expression relaxes a little. She still looks unimpressed, but nods; a short staccato
movement. “Apology accepted, Ben,” she says, then she stands and stalks out of the room.

“Anything else?” asks James.

“No, I’ve said what I came to say.” He turns to me. “I hope that when tempers have cooled, we might be
friends again.”

“Ben….” I start.

He holds up his hands. “It’s alright, Kirstie. I mean just that; friends. It would never work with you and
me…. and besides, Erin’s very sweet; a real old-fashioned girl.”

My jaw drops. “Erin?”

He grins and rises to leave.

As he opens the door, “Ben.…” I call after him.



“Yes?”

“If you ever raise a hand to Erin, I’ll have you for horse-meat.”

His face falls. He nods a curt acknowledgement and leaves.

Sighing, I turn to face my Director. “So, how much trouble am I in now?”

But James’ expression is genial, almost amused. “None. I appreciate your telling Ben your mind. That
can’t have been an easy conversation.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

He leans back against the conference table, perching on the edge. “Relax, Kirstie. I’m not going to bite,
and I really am grateful for what you did with Ben. It will make my life a lot easier with both Charlotte
and Michael.”

“You’re welcome, Sir.”

“I’ll try to find an appropriate way of using your talents.”

“Sir?”

“Don’t worry,” his smile is wicked, “I’m just exercising my appreciation of subs who aren’t really subs.”

Did he really say that?

“Sorry?”

“As you may have gathered, ‘submissive’ is not exactly a part of Charlotte’s repertoire either. The only
time she is really a Sub is with me. I suspect you fall into the same category….”



*****

My phone buzzes. “Kirstie. If you have a minute, could you come up, please. Mr Alexanders wants to
see you.”

“I can’t leave the desk right now, Francis. There’s no-one else here.”

“I’ll get someone sent down. You just come upstairs. He’s waiting.”

Now what? Am I in trouble after all?

On the directors’ level, I tap at the door.

“Come.”

In his office, James is seated by the coffee table on a low couch. Sprawled might be a better word.
Resting back, he is outstretched, feet up on the table, legs crossed at the ankles, hands linked behind
his head.

As I enter the room, he is staring into space, looking thoughtful, but then looks my way, smiles and
swings his legs back down to the carpet.

“Thank you for coming, Kirstie….”

As if there were a choice….

“…. Come in. Sit down.” He waves me to the seat opposite him. “Coffee?”

“Um, yes, thanks.”

“How do you like it?”



“White, no sugar please.”

The Technical Director of Haswell Corporation is serving me coffee?

Guess I’m not in any kind of trouble then….

He passes me a coffee and seats himself once more on the settee with his own, strong and black I
notice, but he doesn’t drink. If anything, swiping a hand through his hair, he seems embarrassed.

However, in this atmosphere, much more relaxed than the first time he called me into his office, I can
study him.

People-watching again?

Marcie was right in one respect; for all his striking looks and character, he is not a young man. His hair,
while dark, is silvering, and fine lines radiate out from the corners of his eyes. However, his imposing
personality overrides all of that, his expression sharp, his observation acute.

“I wanted to sound you out about something, Kirstie.” he begins. “If this sounds odd, then please bear
with me because there are things which you don’t know about, quite simply because they are not public
knowledge and you have not known us for very long.”

Where’s this going?


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