rubbed his very warm cheek and followed silently after her.
CHAPTER FOUR
Peter Dennis threw himself into his chair at his desk. It was Monday morning and the rush hour traffic had been horrendous. The small clock on his desk was showing 09.15. He’d intended to be in at 09.00. It didn’t matter though. Dennis worked whatever hours suited him.
He glanced across at his editors office and saw the door was closed and the office empty. Rogerson was probably also stuck in traffic. Dennis had tried, in the past, to use public transport but found he preferred to be behind the wheel stuck in traffic getting frustrated rather than being stuck on a tube or bus in the same traffic. Rogerson on the other hand had never desired to be squashed in, like a sardine, into a carriage crammed with total strangers. Besides he liked to look out of his top floor window a dozen times a day at his Aston Martin parked in the street below.
Dennis flicked the switch on the bottom of his computer monitor and waited for the screen to come on. It had been three days since the exhibition, the spear being stolen and his arrest. He and Natalie had spent a quiet weekend at his London apartment and ignored all calls. The moment his monitor came on he regretted it. 228 new e-mails and 142 messages in his spam filter. He opened the spam folder and ran his eyes down the list of the first fifty and without opening any of the messages he clicked delete. He cleared the rest and then emptied the trash bin before opening his e-mail folder and running his eyes down the first fifty of them as well. Four he opened and read with interest. There were some from friends and family, jokes no doubt, and he moved them to a different folder to read later. Then bored he quickly scanned the remaining e-mails and finding nothing of interest, he deleted the entire lot.
His mobile began ringing and he turned it over to see that it was Natalie calling.
“Hi babe.”
“Sorry to disturb you. I know you’ve probably just got in but did you leave without having any breakfast?”
“Yes. I’ll get something later.”
“Well I was wondering if we could do lunch.”
“Lunch?” Dennis said, looking at the mess on his desk.
“If you aren’t too busy. It’s not a problem if you are.”
“I’m a bit snowed under love….Um….I’m just trying to think….”
“Well what if I bring lunch to you in the office. How does that sound?”
“Good idea. Yes. That will be much better for me.”
“Ok. How about twelve o’clock. What do you want?”
“Twelve is fine. I’ll be here all day. Oh and bring me something with chicken in it. Sandwich, salad, baguette. I don’t mind.”
“Ok.”
“Ok.”
“Well I’ll see you later then.”
“Yeah. Sorry babe,” Dennis said, nearly dropping the phone he was propping to his ear with his left shoulder while trying to remove post it notes from all around his desk, “I’m a bit busy right now.”
“Ok. See you soon. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Dennis hung up. Usually he hated doing it first. He reached down to open a drawer and rummaged for a stapler when he was hit by an overwhelming whiff of perfume. He turned his head and saw a pair of red stilleto’s. His eyes travelled up to black seamed stockings, to a green tartan mini-skirt, white blouse and on up to bright red lipstick, beautiful eyes behind thinly framed spectacles and to long, tumbling brunette hair.
Becky!
Becky Smith! Rogerson’s recently hired personal assistant and the most beautiful woman in the office, the entire building for that matter. Possibly London.
’Well second most,’ Dennis told himself.
“Morning Becky.”
Smith came forward and perched herself on the edge of his desk, revealing a glimpse of black suspender.
“Morning Peter.”
Dennis closed his eyes and shook his head in quick succession and then looked up at her. Other men in the office were watching her.
“Is there something I can do for you Miss Smith?”
Becky placed a large boxfile on his desk and pushed it to him.
“This is from Tom. He said it had everything you’d need in it. Well not quite everything you‘ll ever need,” she said, shifting slightly revealing her stocking tops to wolf whistles from across the office.
“Thank you,” Dennis said, deliberately avoiding her eyes.
He opened the file and began shuffling through what was in it.
“So did you have a nice weekend,” she asked in her husky voice.
“Um. Yes. Yes thank you,” he replied, looking up at her at last.