She turned on her dramatic designer heels and walked swiftly out of the door.
Abby looked at Ed with an enquiring expression.
He shrugged. "She's not taking things too well. All this hassle." He waved his hand over the piles of paper on the desk.
"That's what it's all about though, Ed, isn't it? Making things work to your advantage? I haven't always been so lucky with the investment advice I've given. This time I have been." In my personal affairs too. She followed her own thoughts for a moment.
He didn't look up, but nodded vaguely. He looked like a forlorn puppy and she thought twice about launching a discussion on personal matters just then.
"Anyway, I popped in to see how you are and to ask when your flight is."
"Thanks Abby, we're coping." He smiled, wearily. "We're on a flight this evening."
She nodded, wished him safe journey and headed back to her office. She was thinking about that evening too, but with more pleasant results. She smoothed her skirt down over her thighs and closed her eyes, savoring the anticipation.
* * * *
Zac sat in traffic, tapping his steering wheel. The multi-story car park where he was headed was in sight, but the traffic was crawling. He normally traveled into work by tube, but with the immanent prospect of having to shoot out with papers for his mother to sign, he'd decided to motor in for the rest of the week.
Yesterday had been a true test of logistics. He'd sent Nathan in with copies of previous documents, and he'd had to pay highly to get the release documents couriered out to his mother after hours and back to Abby's office before she returned to it the next morning. His Mother had agreed readily enough. She'd even said she'd get onto George about setting him up as a signatory, but he'd managed to put her on hold for the time being. This was getting complicated, he realized, with a wry smile.
His phone blipped and he read the text, smiling when he saw it was from Abby. The traffic was solid so he took the chance to reply immediately. She hadn't been far from mind anyway, and now she was back in full technicolor detail, his mind running with plans for the evening. After she'd gone that morning, he'd sprawled on the bed for quite some time. His mind was running with images of her, her beautiful body and the way it responded so acutely to him, her face when she was in the throes of ecstasy. He was fascinated. She was so expressive and so feminine, sometimes wanton, a delicious mixture of blatant candor and subtle feminine allure. The fact she was a finance whiz to boot seemed somehow ironic. He couldn't help wishing, now, that they'd met under different circumstances.
The traffic crawled on and he pulled into the car park and handed the valet his keys, telling him to keep the car ready. As he walked down the street towards the venue, he wondered if Nathan had found out anything useful. But would that help? He was now involved in a complicated affair with a potential Mata Hari. Was there an easy answer to how this was going to pan out?
The blinds were open in his office and the door through to the adjacent room stood open. Nathan was in there, poring over his laptop.
He looked up as Zac approached. "So this is you getting back in touch with me first thing?" He chortled, well aware of the reason why Zac had not got back to him sooner.
"Alright, already." Zac put his keys on his desk. "What have you found out?" Looking over his shoulder he saw that Nathan had the Robertson dossier propped beside the pc, open on the staff information pages. On the screen, he could see that he was looking at information about Abby's university days.
"She's a clever girl, got a first in business management. Won some sort of prize for her accountancy dissertation project."
Zac nodded. "What about now?"
"Standard stuff, she goes to the gym, she works hard. She's well liked by the other staff in house."
"Do you think she has strong loyalties to Tom Robertson?"
"Hey, what do you think I am—psychic?" Nathan chuckled. "Okay, here's the full low down. She's been there almost three years, she works with the team but she does seem to be a bit of a loner—at least that's how it sounds, and I don't think she hangs out with them a great deal."
"Figures," Zac replied. Abby wasn't the typical finance expert, and far from the cliquey sort, which didn't make things any easier for him.
"I can't see any obvious signs that she's dealing with anybody else, outside of her work colleagues. There isn't time in her schedule."
Zac nodded. "Let me know if you turn up anything else."
"I was about to pick up some coffee." Nathan stood up and followed him into the main office. "You look like you could use some."
"Cheers, yes." He flicked open the diary on his desk.
Nathan nodded over at it. "We're expecting the delivery guys with the installation for the Cordover exhibition in the main gallery. It's not due before two. You've also made a note to do the press release for the exhibition today. That's about it."
Zac looked up, nodded.
"Are you still going to Paris on Thursday?"
"Yes, I've got to move on that club if I want to buy it. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Thought you might have changed your mind, what with your new playmate and all."
Zac responded with an admonishing glance.
Nathan still hovered expectantly.
"What?"
"Tell me if I'm out of line, but the way I see it is that she either knows who you are—in which case something isn't quite adding up—or she doesn't know, and if she doesn't know she is going to find out at some point."
Zac sat down behind his desk and flipped open his laptop. "Yes, if she doesn't know, it's only a matter of time." He rested back in his chair, drumming his fingertips on the arms. "I just need to know why she's lying to me."
Nathan shrugged. "Maybe she's one of those compulsive liars."
"Her work seems to be the only thing she's lying about though. Everything else she tells me fits into place."
"But if you're not telling her that she's working for you," he ventured, "isn't that just as bad?"
Zac shook his head, suddenly annoyed. "I haven't told any lies."
Nathan lifted his eyebrows. "No, you just haven't told the whole truth."
Bloody hell. He had a point. "If you weren't my best buddy, I'd fire you."
Nathan gave a hearty laugh. "Sometimes we all need to hear an objective view, right?"
Zac gave him a sardonic smile. "Where's this coffee you mentioned?"
"I'm on the case." He sauntered off, grinning happily to himself.
What a fine mess, Zac realized. He felt almost despondent, compared to when he'd been watching Abby sleeping in his bed that morning.
When she had found her way to him he'd thought 'what the hell?' thinking it wouldn't intrude on his more respectable interests in her work, but things seemed to be changing rapidly. He was already completely fascinated with her and he didn't relish the idea of their affair coming to an end too soon, because of business complications.
By the time Nathan came back with coffee, he had decided to let things run their course—which was kind of where he had started first thing in the morning—but there was an unbidden sense of urgency running through him now. That feeling annoyed him more than a little, because he hated to be rushed.
He accepted the double espresso and glanced over his email while he tipped sugar into it. "Jesus," he exclaimed, as he read the mail bearing Abby's name. It contained a short report relating the details of the share sale. "This woman's got the Midas touch, and it looks as if she traded in right on time. The share price dropped almost immediately."
Nathan popped the lid on his giant latte and grinned. "In that case, let's hope she thinks you're good in bed. You might get to keep her."
Zac threw him a warning glance. "Now you're just pushing your luck."
But Nathan continued to grin as he left the office, leaving him alone to consider his peculiar state of affairs.
Yet again, Nathan had a point.
Chapter Six
After an afternoo
n where he'd spent every spare moment brooding on his sorry state of affairs, Zac's mood had grown surly and disagreeable, at best. Standing in The Banker's Draft, he knocked back a vodka and tried to shake it off.
He knew why he felt this way. It was frustration at the turn of events. He was about to spend the night with the most beautiful, desirable woman he could wish to have, a woman who he was pleased to give his every moment of time and attention to, and yet he knew he wouldn't be able to speak to her the way he wanted to.
He wanted to ask how her day had gone. He wanted to celebrate her success on the stock exchange and ask her how she knew it was the right time to sell. He wanted to show her his respect for the way she worked and talk about it, because he sensed there was much more to Abby, so many details to discover and appreciate. Fate had not dealt him a good hand, though, and he felt caged by their circumstances.
Perhaps that's why he'd decided to take her to his father's Glykeria restaurant, the smallest of his three London eateries. They could have gone to one of hundreds of restaurants, but no. With a wry laugh he realized that it was almost as if he wanted their secret link to be brought out in the open by chance, but deep down he knew that might throw everyone into chaos. What would she do if it came out now? Depends what her motives are. She'd either leave in disgust because he hadn't said anything, as Nathan seemed to hint, or dump him in annoyance that her own plans hadn't worked out. Whatever those plans were. It looked like a no win situation.
When the door to the pub swung open and she sashayed in, all those niggling doubts began to fall away from him. She was there and she looked delicious, wearing some sort of filmy dress the color of the sea. It floated down into layers around her shins. Slender threads of jewels at her throat and wrist caught the light as she walked over to him. The fabric of her dress pooled enticingly in her cleavage and shimmied over her body in all the right places when she moved. She didn't appear to be wearing a bra. Yes, his attention was all hers.
"Sorry I'm late. I had to wait an age for a taxi."
"No worries. Shall we go straight to the restaurant?"
"Mm, sounds good." She took his arm. "I've got quite an appetite."
"I like how that sounds," he commented before he kissed her, long and hard.
As they were walking, he glanced at her quizzically. She was like a drug, making him forget the doubts he had when he wasn't by her side, making him only experience the pleasure of being with Abby, like a siren of the sea calling to him, entrancing him.
She was observing him too as they walked, her steps perfectly in time with his. "So where are you taking me? This feels is a bit like a mystery tour."
So does our relationship, he thought with a bizarre sense of irony. But she was smiling at him so happily, her eyes bright with anticipation. Yes, he anticipated it every moment too. His more primal aspect urged him to enjoy the moment, to make it last, to be inside her again and again—for as long as it could possibly last.
"I was thinking we could eat at a good Greek restaurant I know. It's not too far from here, if you'd like to give it a try?"
"Oh yes, that sounds great."
She stared up at the sign as they neared the door. "Glykeria, what does it mean?"
"Sweet. It's like something sweet."
It was how his father had felt about getting his own restaurant up and running, the way he himself felt about The Hub, now, in fact. This was the smallest of his father's chain, and the most friendly. The tables were arranged in varied group sizes between demurely placed pillars and foliage. It was his father's first venue and Zac had fond memories of being taken there for a special treat as a child.
He didn't recognize the young waiter who came to seat them, but within seconds Stefano, the restaurant manager, had spotted him and was cutting a fast path through the tables to greet them.
"Zachary, you should have phoned, I would have saved our best table."
"No need, Stefano." He shook Stefano's hand warmly. "I don't want any fuss," he winked, "just a private evening and some of your good food for myself and my guest."
"I understand, follow me, we have something discreet over here." Stefano bowed in greeting, looked at Abby with open admiration, then ushered them to a secluded table. After seating them he supplied them with menus and left them in peace.
"Now this is perfect." She reached across the small table to stroke his hand.
At that moment he felt she would give up everything he owned, just to be with her, to have her body close to his. He felt a fierce desire for total possession of her. What madness is this? "It is. I hope you will enjoy the menu. Do you know much about Greek food?"
"Only a little," she replied.
"From the island-hopping holiday?"
"Yes."
She seemed pleased that he'd remembered. How could he forget that particular tale? He'd practically leapt on her as she described her growing awareness of her sensuality and what it did to her.
She glanced at the menu. "I'd like you to choose for me."
"Really?" He was amused. For the seemingly independent Abby, it struck him as unusual, but then he had so much to learn about her, didn't he?
She nodded. "I put my trust in your expertise." She said it as if she was referring to something much more intimate than a restaurant menu. "Oh, except I'd like to try the Retsina again, if they have a good bottle."
Why did that small thing bring him so much pleasure?
She was smiling to herself as she listened to him speak in Greek to Stefano, giving his choices for the meal.
He turned back to her. "What are you thinking?"
"About the islands. I'd like to go back one day. My mother is there now, coincidentally."
"You said your father passed on, yes?"
"Yes, and since then my mother has been going back to all the places they visited together. She's become quite the traveler in her mature years. I think perhaps she's trying to recapture the memories. It's sad. I think she senses now how much more they could have had from life, if they had just tried to enjoy each moment as it happened." She drifted and he drew her back with his caress. She laughed at herself.
Her mind fascinated him. "People don't realize the important things in life until they are taken away, is that what you think?"
She nodded. "It's not something we sit down and think about enough, yes. If we did, we'd be a whole lot better armed to prioritize life as it happened."
"What's important to you, Abby?" He couldn't resist asking, even if it was a loaded question.
She looked straight at him and her glance teased him in a way that made his chest ache. She stroked his hand, running her fingertips over the back of his fingers, trailing her nails over his knuckles. "Outside of this, outside of being here with you, now?"
His spine tensed with a sense of delicious anxiety, his body alert to her every move. "It is good, isn't it?" Even as he said the words, it felt like the understatement of the year. It was more than good. Deep down, he knew it was the best he'd ever had. He wanted her so badly. He arrested her fingers with his, locking their hands together. The way she looked at him when he did so made his loins flood. Her pupils were dark, her expression hungry.
The wine waiter arrived with their Retsina. They pulled apart to allow him to pour the wine.
"But what else?" he asked, when they were alone again.
"My work, I suppose...being professional."
"Professional," he repeated, with a sinking feeling.
She smiled, her eyes filled with secret memory. "I had this one secondary school teacher that I really liked and she said something that has always stuck with me. Remain professional, no matter what life throws at you, no matter what the situation is, and you will do well in life. So far I've managed to remember that and it served me well."
Zac felt as if he'd been hit in the solar plexus. The words she spoke meant everything to her. He could see that. But because they were about her job and its place in her life, they put an instant barrier between them,
a barrier he wanted to kick aside but didn't know how to overcome. They also threw a new light on his doubts about her integrity. Had he mistrusted her unjustly?
"Kind of like the old saying about keeping your head, when all around you are losing theirs," she added when he didn't respond.
He attempted to muster a response. "It sounds like a good motto to live by." He felt like he was the one losing his head right then.
Stefano arrived with the selection of starter dishes Zac had ordered and mercifully broke the awkward moment.
Zac distracted himself by tempting her with the offerings, telling her about their preparation, their ingredients, and their history. "A selection such as this we call Mezethekia. It means that which opens the appetite."
"My appetite is never satisfied when you are near."
He followed her remark by offering her a dolmathes and a smile.
She listened to him while she tasted the exquisite stuffed vegetables, the rich dense flavor of the garlic smoked bacon, the light spinach and cheese found in the pastry wrapped envelopes.
"Food has always been important to Greek culture and it's been immortalized in many great literary works," he explained. "But eating is mostly informal, so that it becomes an art that pervades the everyday." His fingers took a tiny hollowed cherry tomato with pine nuts and cheese to her lips.
"I know which flavor of Greece I'd like to taste every day." She blew him a suggestive kiss then sipped her wine to hide her smile.
He feasted on her image, the wine arresting each moment in a capsule of pine-needled memory. He wanted this to last and last. "Abby, I shall forget to eat at all if you continue to make such erotic comments."
Her laughter made him feel warm.
The main course arrived. Stefano himself continued to serve them, but astutely let them be private too.
"What a feast, a real banquet," Abby said while he served the main course.
"A beggar's banquet," Stefano replied. "It is the restaurant philosophy. These are the everyday flavors of Greece." He told her how the baked red mullet was cooked, with lemon and olive dressing, and why the grilled aubergines, tiny potatoes and shallots braised in balsamic vinegar were the right accompaniment.
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