Pistol

Chapter Twelve

Steph looked up at Cass, her eyebrow cocked in confusion. "The page is blank." She held the piece of paper out for Cass to take back.

"I know," she hissed. "Grumpy pants is watching, so I had to pretend to be doing something legit."

Steph smiled, and shook her head. "What's up then?"

"You tell me." Cass's eyes narrowed as she rested her arms on the top of the partition.

Steph shrugged. "Don't know what you mean." She did. She knew exactly what her friend referred to; the stale mood she'd been in the last week as she moped around the office like someone had died.

Well, hadn't they? Kind of? She hadn't heard a thing from Pete since he left last Friday. Every damn noise her stupid mobile made, she had launched herself at it as though he magically found her number in the clouds. That's how pathetically desperate she was to see a man she stabbed again.

"Well?" Cass prompted.

"I can't say here."

"Where then? You name it, and we'll do lunch."

Greg walked by, and stopped behind Cass to eye them. Steph flashed the sheet of paper to indicate they were at work, and he nodded as he carried on.

"That guy is such a pain in the ass," Steph growled. "And a creep. Did you see the way he kept touching that new girls back when he showed her around?"

Cass nodded. "Couldn't miss it. Anyway, lunch."

"Yeah." Steph screwed her mouth to the side. "How about Subway? I haven't had that in a while."

"Deal. As long as you don't give me grief for having two cookies."

Steph smirked, and nodded. "Fine. Deal."

Cass slipped back to her cubicle as Steph sat and suppressed the jittery bugs in her gut. How the heck was she going to break this one to her bestie? Tell her she'd fallen for a crazy man? Tell her she wanted him to push her around like a common whore? Mm-hmm. Loony. You're loony.

She looked at the clock on her monitor, and relaxed. It was barely time for her morning coffee. Enough hours until lunch to practice what she'd say then. She reached out, and plucked a list of numbers from her in-tray. Her eyes roamed over the data, and she cringed at the amount of time it would take her to enter and collate it all. Her fingers tapped on the desk top, and she mused over what sort of environment the new office might be. Would there be friendly people like Cass? Or a bunch of people a lot older with not much in common? Did they socialise outside of hours? Her breath shuddered out as a sigh while she searched the hard drive for the template she would need. Focused on the endless folders that contained client records, she jumped when her desk-phone buzzed.

Steph picked up the handset, and answered automatically; her focus still on being able to locate the AWOL template. "Hello?"

"Miss Drake. You have a visitor at reception." The old bag's tone was cooler than usual.

"I'll be right there." Her heart flew to her throat. Nobody ever visited her at work. What on earth could they be here for? The visitor had to be family when Cass worked in the same office. Unless it was Ivan? Which would be worse. He worked on the other side of the city, so what was so important?

Steph played out a million dire scenarios as she made her way through the maze of desks to the entrance. She pushed open the frosted glass door that divided the reception from the offices. Her heart stampeded madly against her ribcage. Her heels clicked on the tiles as she rounded the corner of the front desk, and lifted her gaze to her visitor. Steph's heart stopped beating.