The Executive Floor

by Belinda Wright

Granger cut her off with a raised hand. ‘We will discuss that in due course. You can be sure I will be reviewing the organisation and making improvements.’ There was a flicker of hesitation in the older woman’s eyes. No one liked change. There would always be an element of fear. ‘But I’m here about another matter today.’

  ‘Of course, of course, we …’ She gestured to the floor outside her office. ‘We are all here to be of service to you, to the company.’

  Granger pursed his lips. ‘Good. Now, I have been trying to get hold of someone from your team. The intern, Chantelle – the French girl, Chantelle Moulier. Before I left for the States she was very helpful fixing a file that was showing an error. But I’ve been having trouble getting in touch with her since. Emails are bouncing. There seems to be some technical error.’

  Margaret shifted in her chair, looking uncomfortable. ‘Well actually, no, Mr Carmont, there is no technical error …’

  ‘There must be, my emails aren’t being delivered. I have checked, I haven’t been typing the address incorrectly.’ He was getting frustrated with the old woman’s lack of energy. ‘You need to contact IT and get this fixed. Mr Croft from the affiliate company has been trying to contact her urgently on a matter of importance and it’s most frustrating that the mails are not going through. He doesn’t have time to waste.’

  She pursed her lips. ‘This is somewhat delicate, I’m afraid, Mr Carmont. There is no technical error. Ms Moulier’s email account has been closed.’

  ‘Closed?’ Granger echoed her. ‘What do you mean, her account has been closed? Why?’

  Margaret swallowed. ‘We let her go, Mr Carmont. You see, her contract is up and she had done more than her contractual obligation.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Granger said, trying to get his head around what he was hearing.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Carmont, but I let her go early. I told her she didn’t need to come in today. I mean, we couldn’t offer her a job and she has been so good. I thought it was only fair to let her leave one day early. And I discussed it with Valerie who fully agreed.’

  ‘Her internship is over?’ Granger shook his head. ‘Already? She didn’t mention anything to me about that.’

  Margaret smiled. ‘No, I’m sure she didn’t, but why would she? We have another intern due to start in a few weeks who I am sure will replace Chantelle nicely, and in the meantime you can always ask our team for any ad hoc requests you might have. That the senior analyst cannot support you with, that is.’

  ‘You think the new intern will replace Chantelle?’ Granger asked, tipping his head to one side.

  ‘Oh, I am sure he will. He is very advanced and from a good university.’

  Granger nodded. ‘Thank you for your time. I am glad you could help me.’ He got up and walked out of the office. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Why hadn’t she told him her contract was expiring so soon? Did she really think he would just let her leave the company and vanish from his life? He marched across the analyst floor to Chantelle’s desk and stopped in front of the girl who sat next to her.

  ‘Chantelle is gone?’ he said. The girl nodded. ‘Do you know what she was going to do?’

  The girl shook her head. ‘She said she would go back to France.’

  ‘France? When?’ Granger’s heart plunged.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘She was a bit down, I think. She didn’t want to leave, she was hoping for a contract extension. She said she would go home to clear her mind.’

  Granger nodded and went back to his office. He slammed the glass door and sat behind his desk. So that was why Richard couldn’t contact her – because she was gone. He balled his fist and slammed it down on the hard wooden desk, hardly feeling the shooting pain that rebounded back into his hand. He picked up the phone and dialled his solicitor’s direct line.

  ‘Mr Carmont! Good to hear from you. How are you?’

  ‘Great,’ he growled. ‘I need you to do something for me and I need it doing now.’

  ‘Certainly, sir,’ the solicitor said, apparently reading the urgency in his tone.

  ‘About that personal matter that I faxed to you the other day?’

  ‘It’s all in hand, sir, my team is working on an injunction that will prevent any documents that are shown to the papers being published.’

  ‘Great.’ Granger replaced the receiver and drummed his fingers on the desk, thinking for a moment before getting up and grabbing his jacket.

  Chantelle woke up with a pounding headache. She’d been having a horrible dream that her life was falling apart around her. She lay in bed for several minutes as all the events of the previous day filtered back into her mind like a nightmare in reverse. Instead of the dream fading in her memory it became stronger as she realised it had all actually happened.

  She pulled the pillow over her head in a lame attempt to block out reality. How could she have lost everything in the space of twenty-four hours? Well done, Chantelle, that was some achievement! Her job, the man she was starting to fall for, and now she couldn’t even afford her room here. She felt sick and alone. She was alone.

  But not for much longer. Soon she would be back in France with her aunt and uncle. She had reserved herself a train ticket for that evening. She was going to take the train to London, then the Eurostar to Paris and then the TGV home. The fare would take the last of her money.

  Once she was back in France she would get a temporary job. She would work with her uncle for the time being. She bit her lip. She was not going to burden them again. She would do anything to avoid that, even if it meant working day and night. This time she would pay her keep.

  Chantelle got up and started gathering her few belongings. She opened her holdall. It was still full of her stuff from when she had hurriedly packed it leaving Granger’s place; seeing it brought a pang of sadness. She wished she had gone down and opened the door to him when he came around knocking, just to see his face again, to say goodbye. But she had to be strong, to keep her dignity. She didn’t need his explanations, his apologies; she understood. They weren’t from the same world. He belonged with the Cynthias of the world.

  She put her head out of her door and listened. The house sounded quiet but she wasn’t convinced. She crept towards the bathroom passing Neil’s room. The door was shut. She listened. He was probably still sleeping. She headed to the shower and quickly washed herself, her eyes on the door the whole time. She made it without the door opening, pulled a towel around her wet body and hurried back to her room.

  After drying herself, she dressed in jeans and a jumper, putting her hair up into a ponytail. It would be a long journey and she still hadn’t called her aunt to tell her that she was coming. Her phone battery was flat. As soon as she got to Paris she would call from a payphone.

  She put her bag on the bed and moved around the room, pulling out all her belongings. Tears had begun rolling down her cheeks, but she hardly noticed them. Her mind was lost in her thoughts. A noise outside the window caught her attention. In the distance she heard a rumble of an engine. The sound took her back to the night before when Granger had been outside. She gazed out at the empty road, wishing that she could see him again. The roar of the engine was getting louder by the second. Her mind was playing tricks on her, making her think that she was hearing things she wasn’t. She moved away from the window, forcing herself to get on packing and stop being silly. She didn’t have much time, she wanted to pick up a few gifts before going to the train.

  Chantelle moved back to the window in time to see Granger climb out of the driver’s seat of his Porsche and stride across the pavement to her door. She watched, frozen. He looked amazing in his designer suit and long cashmere coat, dark hair neatly combed.

  She drew in a breath and her heart leapt. He marched up to her door looking full of determination and she shivered with attraction. Knocking sounded up the stairs. Chantelle
stepped back from the window, numb, unsure what to do. The banging continued. She was torn; every ounce of her body wanted to run down and throw open the door to him. But she hesitated, nervous. Could she face him?

  She took a step forward towards the door, unable to help it. Her heart was begging her to run down the stair and throw herself into his arms, to pretend that everything was OK.

  ‘Chantelle!’ he called to her through the door, his deep, sexy voice filtering in through the single-glazed windows. ‘I have to talk to you. Please open up.’ His voice was so familiar, so comforting, it struck a chord.

  ‘I’m being ridiculous,’ she whispered to herself. ‘What am I doing? Why am I hiding from him?’ She was acting like a child. She had to go down and speak to him; staying upstairs was stupid.

  Swallowing her nerves, she glanced in the mirror. Her eyes were blotchy and red from crying. She quickly splashed some cold water on her face and rubbed her eyes; it didn’t do much to improve the redness. There was no time to apply make-up. Taking a breath, she walked slowly down the stairs.

  The banging had stopped. It was silent outside now. She heard a car door slam shut. Her hands were shaking as she opened the front door. There was no one on the doorstep. The engine of the Porsche revved and the dark blue car slipped smoothly out of its parking space. He was leaving. She was too late.

  Chantelle stepped forward and opened her mouth to call out, then closed it again. It was pointless. He would never hear her over the sound of the loud engine. She had missed him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Granger pounded his fist down on the passenger seat. He had missed her. She was gone, probably on the way to France now. He should have come around first thing in the morning before work. What the hell was he going to do now? He couldn’t believe it. He’d lost her. This sort of thing didn’t happen to him.

  The most important thing he’d ever had in his life and he’d let it slip through his fingers. His mind spun as plans started forming. He would never give up or let anything get in the way of what he wanted. He would get her details from work – they must have an address or a number for her in France. He would follow her there. He’d hire a private detective if he had to; he was not about to give up on the best thing that ever happened to him just because of a misunderstanding.

  He glanced in the rear-view mirror and froze. ‘What the …?’ Chantelle was standing on the pavement. He slammed on the brake, threw his car into reverse and powered back up the road, screeching to a stop outside the house. He stared at her, hardly believing she was there. She looked amazing – skinny jeans, a tight top, and high-heeled boots. His heart leapt. Then he caught sight of her face. He could see the pain and hurt in her eyes.

  He got out of the car and walked around to meet her. A flash of joy passed through her eyes, quickly replaced with cool politeness. His heart lurched. He wanted to take her in his arms then and there, to cover her mouth with his. But he forced himself to stay calm. She deserved more.

  ‘Hi,’ he said. Standing in front of her brought all the memories flooding back, of kissing her, of the taste of her lips, of his fingers in her hair and of the sweet scent of her skin.

  ‘Salut, Granger.’

  ‘I thought I’d missed you, that you were on your way to France already.’

  Chantelle wrapped her arms around her body as if she was cold. ‘My train is this afternoon. I’m in the middle of packing.’ Although she was smiling there was no happiness in her face. It caused a sadness to shoot through his heart. He’d done this.

  ‘Your phone is switched off.’

  ‘I’ve lost my charger somewhere. I was going to get a new one, but I just haven’t had time. And, well, I’m leaving now anyway so it doesn’t matter. I’ll get one in France.’

  ‘You left it at my place.’ Granger pulled the charger out of his suit pocket.

  ‘Oh, right.’ She took it from him. ‘Merci.’ She looked at the ground.

  ‘Chantelle, I have to talk to you.’ He stepped closer. She looked uncomfortable and glanced back towards the house. He put a hand on her arm. ‘There are things I need to explain, things you don’t understand. I haven’t been straight …’ He paused. ‘Or … well, honest with you.’

  She nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ he suggested.

  ‘I have to get on,’ Chantelle said, her eyes narrowing. ‘Is it necessary?’

  Granger looked at her. ‘It’s absolutely necessary, Chantelle. Nothing has felt more necessary in my life before.’

  Chantelle pursed her lips. ‘One moment. I have to go and get my coat.’ She went back inside. Moments later she emerged with her coat belted tight around her waist. ‘Let’s go this way,’ she said, pointing up the road.

  They walked in silence up the hill towards Headingly Park. The sky was grey, and the wind was blowing the last of the leaves from the trees. Chantelle’s hands were in her pockets. Granger’s hands were balled into fists.

  They reached the park, which was busy with joggers and dogs. Walking through piles of dry golden leaves, Granger looked down at his Italian designer suit and handmade shoes. He was overdressed for this sort of thing. He kicked a pile of leaves. ‘I should have brought Rocky. He would have loved this.’

  ‘He would,’ she agreed. Granger glanced at her, wondering what she was thinking. At least she had agreed to talk to him, that was a good thing, he told himself.

  Chantelle wrapped her arms around her body again. ‘Are you cold? Do you want my jacket?’ Granger started to remove his over coat.

  ‘No, I’m fine.’ She dropped her arms to her sides. ‘How was the trip?’

  Granger’s brow furrowed. ‘The meeting went really well. The deal is all signed and sealed, and we’re about to make the takeover. It’s the entrance to the American market.’

  ‘That’s fantastic. I’m so pleased for you.’

  Her happiness was genuine, he could tell. It hurt his heart. ‘Yeah, it’s really good. I’ll have to spend a lot of time over there in the next few months.’ His voice was flat.

  ‘Oh.’ Chantelle couldn’t work out why that piece of information left her feeling sad. It wasn’t as if he was going to be spending any time with her anyway. He kicked another pile of leaves. ‘He would seriously love this,’ Granger muttered, and Chantelle smiled, remembering how the old dog rolled around in the leaves last time she took him out. ‘Yeah, it’s funny, he seems to find energy when it comes to leaves.’ She was about to laugh, then stopped herself, thinking of the last time she saw the dog; Cynthia saying Rocky belonged to her She stared ahead of her, her feet feeling like lead weights as she moved forwards. This walk was a bad idea; she should have just said no and finished her packing. Talking with Granger was like torturing herself.

  ‘Look, Chantelle.’ Granger stopped walking and touched her arm, turning her gently to face him. ‘I have to explain about what happened.’

  She forced a smile. ‘No, you don’t. It’s fine. Really, you don’t have to say anything. Cynthia was clear and it’s fine. I fully understand. C’mon.’ She started moving again.

  ‘No.’ Granger followed her. ‘It’s not like that. You don’t understand.’

  ‘Really, Granger, please, you don’t need to explain. You don’t owe me anything.’

  ‘Chantelle—’

  ‘Cynthia told me. You are getting back together. And why wouldn’t you? You are perfect for each other – she’s glamorous and successful. Now with this deal you’re moving even higher in the world. I’m sure you are both going to be so happy. I’m glad I could help with Rocky.’ There was anger in her voice; she turned and walked on.

  ‘Chantelle, it’s not like that. Cynthia had no right …’ he called after her. ‘Chantelle, stop. Listen to me.’ He grabbed both her arms, catching her and turning her to face him, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes were fixed on his. They were cold, colder t
han he’d seen her eyes before. That was what this situation was doing to her? He wanted to gather her up in his arms and hold her, tell her it would all be all right, but he forced himself to refrain.

  ‘Cynthia had no right to say what she did to you. She had no right to come into my apartment. I should have made her give me back my keys before, but I didn’t think for one moment she would come back and let herself in again like that. I didn’t realise she was that crazy. I’ve taken the keys from her now – she won’t be coming back.’

  ‘I thought she was your girlfriend. That’s what she told me when she told me to leave your apartment.’

  Granger ran a hand through his hair. ‘Chantelle, if you would just listen to me, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. She’s not my girlfriend. We split up weeks ago, before I met you, I told you that. I have no idea what got into her head to make her think that she could just walk back into my apartment like that and expect to walk back into my life. It certainly wasn’t me.’

  Her eyes were on the ground. He couldn’t tell if she believed him or not.

  ‘I almost fell over when I came back from the States and found her in my bed. Can you imagine it? She was in my bed! I thought it was you at first.’ He ran his hand over his mouth, stopping at his chin. ‘It’s almost funny, when you think about it. Then she told me that she had moved back in, just assumed that I would welcome her with open arms.’ He laughed. ‘I think she’s lost it. I gave her two minutes to get out.’

  Chantelle shook her head. ‘It wasn’t funny at all. She told me she could take care of Rocky, that he was her dog and that I could go.’

  ‘He was her dog before she abandoned him and left him with me. She doesn’t care about him. She wanted him when she thought it was cool to “rescue” a dog from the RSPCA, but she’s no good at looking after him. When I got back the poor old boy was starving. I don’t think he’d eaten since you left. He wolfed down two bowls of food straight away.’

  ‘Oh, mon Dieu! That poor thing. Poor Rocky.’ Tears welled in her eyes. ‘I shouldn’t have left him.’