Page 7 of Out of the Shadows
I turn back to the report I’m putting together. Daniel sent me an email earlier in the week asking for high level ideas and thoughts on tapping into new investment markets. Truth is, there aren’t many markets which haven’t been investigated, but it’s all about finding an edge, a Unique Selling Point. It’s all about making Cleaver Jackson the preferred and natural choice. I’ve got the ideas to make it so, yet it kind of irks me that the only one who’s shown any interest in hearing them since I started here is Daniel.
My fingers stop flying over my keyboard. What was it Fiona said? She and Daniel had a meeting.Anothermeeting. And she’s not the only one.
Just yesterday, Tariq had been more animated than I’ve ever seen him, talking about the meeting he had. The guy was so puffed up with pride he might as well have just been to see the Queen. Other than THE MEETING, I’ve only seen Daniel in passing. Literally. It’s not like there hasn’t been any communication between us, but it’s all been email. Civil, formal, and very, very businesslike, all his communications to me have fallen, just, on the right side of terse and mine have been just the same. Fair enough, I can handle terse, but it pisses me off I’ve been singled out for special treatment that feels anything but special. I finish off the report and instead of emailing it I print it out and make my way to his office.
All the newly appointed directors, including Daniel, have made their home on the floor above. PAs sit at desks outside their bosses’ offices, and they give me curious glances as I walk past, swinging the sheaves of papers in my hand. Daniel’s office is in the corner and the PA’s desk outside is empty. Wherever his gatekeeper is, she’s left her post. I go to knock but my hand drops away.
Daniel’s office is made almost entirely from glass. Floor to ceiling windows, glass walls with blinds for privacy when needed. He had an office like this once before. Spectacular views across London, minimalist to the point of stark, bright sunshine filling every corner. The memory is as sharp and bright as the autumn sunshine streaming in. It’s as though it all happened yesterday. My first day in the job at RWM. I’d stood outside his office, suddenly unsure of myself, all my confidence in doubt.
I shrug my shoulders hard, to throw off the memory and come back to the present.
Daniel’s bent over his computer where he’s tapping hard and frantic at his keyboard, his expression focused and serious. He doesn’t look like he wants to be disturbed, but I came here with intent and I intend to see it through. I push the past aside and am about to knock when his phone rings and he grabs it up.
His smile puts the sun to shame.
He leans back in his office chair, twisting this way and that as he talks to whoever is on the other end of the line. He’s not seen me but it only needs a quick glance in my direction to change that. I step back, not wanting him to see me loitering, although I can still see him. Yet, I may as well not bother because all his attention’s on whoever it is he’s talking to, and it gives me the chance to study him.
He’s wearing a dark navy blue suit. The jacket’s hanging over the back of the chair, revealing a crisp pale lilac shirt, the sleeves of which are carefully folded back. He tugs at his dark lilac tie, loosening it a little, before he runs his fingers through his salt and pepper hair, pushing back the fringe that’s flopped forward. It doesn’t stay pushed back for more than a few seconds, which completes the dishevelled suited and booted businessman look. And it’s a look he does well even though I hate myself for acknowledging it. Whoever he’s talking to he’s listening intently nodding his head in agreement with whatever it is they’re saying. His top teeth worry at his lower lip, mashing down on its red plumpness and I find myself biting down on my own lip, mirroring him. I should go, not hang around like I’m loitering outside the Head Master’s office, but watching him in this unguarded moment is mesmerising.
I hear voices behind me, and I swing around expecting to see his PA return, but it’s a couple of the others, talking to each other, and I turn back to my not so secret observation of Daniel.
He’s staring right at me, all the laughter gone from his face, and I want to kick myself for the heat flooding my cheeks. I feel caught out, and exposed, but it’s too late to make a getaway as he finishes up with whoever he’s talking to and beckons me inside.
