Binky sat on Nigel's desk, equidistant between each end and with her legs crossed perkily, and heard the door of her office click open. It was no surprise to her when a pair of arms reached around her from behind, one hand clutching a bunch of tulips and freesias, and a chin rested on her shoulder. "Have I mentioned today that I love you more than life, more than the air and the stars, and quite possibly as much as Barney the lab-cat on level 4?" a cultured, almost-English voice enquired.
Binky laughed, pushed him off, grabbing the flowers as she did so. Dusky pink, lovely. It would clash beautifully with her hair. "'Several times. It's very inappropriate for a personal assistant, have I mentioned that lately? If we weren't besties I might have to fire you. And also, this damned charity ball is holding up progress on at least four of Dad's time-sensitive projects. The sap's too soft to say no to you. You did promise me all of this would be done three days ago..."
"I know, I know," Nigel wheedled, throwing out placatory hands as she examined her flowers, rubbing one soft petal between finger and thumb. "But honestly, was I supposed to leave it to that straw-chewing hayseed Head of Marketing cousin of yours? I love the boy like a brother, I trust him with your gel results, your secondary portfolios and my life. But as far as hootenannies go, I wouldn't let him organise a surburban barbecue."
YOU ARE READING
Gold Digger Label
RomanceBinky Huckstable has a number of problems. A ridiculous name, for one. Her genius I.Q. (Not always a blessing.) An arid, meaningless lovelife. Being the CPO - Chief Product Officer - of her family's billion-dollar company. Oh, and the upcoming...
