Jessie Slaymaker's Non-Existent Love Life (The Jessie Slaymaker Series) (22 page)

Jessie spent a longer than necessary amount of time preparing her drink, and after as much procrastination as even she could manage she headed back to her desk. As she passed by
the office
she glanced across, but the door was still most definitely closed. Just then she felt a tap on her shoulder which made her jump out of her skin and spill half her coffee onto the carpet tile.

‘Ah!’ she cried—a combination of hot coffee on her hand and surprise—as she wheeled around to see Mr Chan facing her.

‘Jesus, you scared me,’ Jessie said, a little dramatically and rather too loudly. A sea of heads looked up from their monitors and gazed in her direction as though her display was something to be studied.

‘Are you okay, Miss Slaymaker?’ Mr Chan asked, looking unimpressed.

‘Fine,’ Jessie replied, her voice higher than usual as she shook her scalded hand.

‘May I have a word in private?’ Mr Chan actually asked, rather than commanded.

‘Now?’ Jessie squeaked again. What was wrong with her? She hadn’t done anything wrong whatsoever, but she was acting all jumpy like she was guilty. Not wanting to incriminate herself further, she gripped her coffee cup with both hands and invoked the five-second rule. The five-second rule involved counting to five after someone asked you something so that you gave yourself enough time to think of a non-incriminating and non-embarrassing answer to the question. And also to give yourself time to moderate the pitch of your voice, Jessie hoped.

Mr Chan nodded and motioned for her to follow him. Mr Chan wasn’t a tall man, but he sure could get from A to B in record time. He veritably scuttled across the floor, which meant Jessie had to almost jog to keep him in sight. This was no easy feat considering she was nursing her coffee and wearing heels.

Mr Chan disappeared behind
the office
door. So it was
his
office.

By the time she arrived, Mr Chan was already seated behind his desk. God, he was small, Jessie thought to herself. She wondered if his feet were touching the floor.

‘So, Miss Slaymaker. Are you sure you haven’t been in this office before?’ Mr Chan said, piercing her with stern eyes. Talk about cutting to the chase.

‘No, of course I bloody haven’t,’ Jessie responded, breaking her five-second rule already.

‘Good, that clears that up then,’ he said, intertwining his fingers and resting them on the desk. ‘Who do you think was in here then?’

Whoa, dilemma
, Jessie thought to herself. What the hell was she supposed to do now? Tell the truth? And be a grass? Charlie would never speak to her again. But then again, what if he’d done something illegal? Plus, she didn’t really know how much Charlie could be trusted. It already appeared to her that he’d tried to frame her for whatever misdemeanour he’d committed. No, Jessie’s motto definitely had to be to save herself at the moment, which meant the wisest thing for her to do was to tell the truth.

‘Well, I already told you I saw Charlie here on Saturday. But, I don’t think he was picking up his phone charger, if you catch my drift. I don’t think that was the only thing he was picking up anyway,’ Jessie answered, giving Mr Chan what she regarded as a knowing look.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand,’ Mr Chan said, letting his poker face look blank. Jessie visibly exhaled as she realised her
knowing
look
had fallen flat and she was going to have to spell it out. She hoped this conversation wasn’t being recorded, because Charlie would never speak to her again if he ever found out she’d dobbed him in. Another part of her brain also wondered what Jack would think of her dropping his brother well and truly in it. Would some brotherly bond kick in and he’d rise up in Charlie’s defense?

‘I don’t really know how to say this, but I’ve worked with Charlie for more than two years now and I’ve always tried to be a loyal and hardworking member of his team. I would defend him to the grave professionally if I thought he’d done nothing wrong. The fact of the matter is…’ Jessie stalled, wondering whether she should just tell the truth. ‘The fact of the matter is, I saw someone in this office on Saturday. Maybe they had a legitimate reason to be in here, maybe they didn’t, but that’s not really for me to say,’ Jessie rambled.

‘Who did you see, Miss Slaymaker?’

‘A man,’ Jessie replied quietly.

‘Yes…?’ prompted Mr Chan.

‘I didn’t see his face, but it was definitely a man,’ Jessie said firmly, feeling more confident in her testimony.

‘And?’

‘And I heard his voice,’ Jessie said quietly again as she realised it was physically impossible for her to hide all she knew, let alone tell a lie.

‘Mr Davenport?’ Mr Chan asked, mirroring her quiet tone.

Jessie nodded her head rather than actually say the words. The brief head nod seemed sufficient for Mr Chan, who nodded his head satisfactorily and un-intertwined his fingers before intertwining them back up again.

‘Now, moving onto more positive things. Miss Slaymaker, I’ve heard great things about you this week. How have you enjoyed your week here?’ Mr Chan asked, seeming to be genuinely interested. His face had changed instantaneously from one wearing a seriously concerned look to one that was suddenly open and smiling. The little man’s smile was infectious.

‘Oh, it’s been wonderful,’ Jessie began, unable to stop the grin spreading across her face. ‘I’ve really enjoyed the work and I’ve found it really useful to be here on the ground in broadening my understanding for the Asian-based project we’ve been working on rather than being six thousand miles away back in the UK,’ she continued in one breath.

‘I’m glad you said that, because we are thinking of setting up a research division in Hong Kong. As you know, the majority of the bank’s requirements are currently handled by your office in England,’ Mr Chan responded, smiling even wider.

‘That sounds interesting,’ Jessie said carefully. She wasn’t exactly sure if that was a good thing or not. Did it mean her job was at risk? Work being done in Hong Kong would surely result in there being less work done in the UK. In Jessie’s head this translated as less work for her, and therefore maybe they would regard her role as obsolete. Maybe Mr Chan, HR Director Almighty, had been called in to give her the almighty push.

‘We are still in the planning stages but there would of course need to be some reorganization across the global research division,’ Mr Chan said seriously. Given that the entire global research division of Finance First Bank was UK based, this did not bode well, Jessie realised. Perhaps Mr Chan was just giving her a heads-up rather than punting her out the door there and then. He’d said so himself: things were still in their planning stages. Surely these things would take months, if not years, to organise and come to fruition.

‘Of course,’ Jessie replied meekly, feeling like she was definitely done for.

‘And this is where we thought you would come in,’ Mr Chan said, smiling broadly. For someone delivering bad news, he sure was smiling a lot.

‘I’m sorry… I don’t understand,’ Jessie replied evenly. If he was giving her the boot, she was at least going to make him say it out loud. She wasn’t just going to make his life easy and resign for the sake of his reorganisation master plan.

‘I’m sorry, I thought I’d made my intentions clear. We’d like you to join our Hong Kong office and set up and run the research team here. If you want to remain in England, you can of course do that, but we just thought given your Asian market knowledge and expertise, as well as your sheer enthusiasm that we’ve all witnessed during your stay in Hong Kong, that you’d be the best person for the job.’

Jessie was stunned. Shocked. Silent. She was literally at a loss for words and had the very real fear that if she opened her mouth to talk no words would come out. Only a stream of unintelligible gobbledegook. That wouldn’t impress Mr Chan. So Jessie remained silent. In that moment she was unable to do anything more.

‘I can see you are surprised, Miss Slaymaker,’ Mr Chan said, getting bored of waiting for a response that did not come. ‘I will have a provisional offer letter drawn up for you to look over, and if you would take the time to read through our offer and at least consider things, that would be most appreciated.’

‘But what about Charlie?’ Jessie blurted out, not exactly sure why that had been the first thing she’d responded with. A polite thank-you may have been more appropriate, Jessie thought to herself with annoyance upon reflection.

Mr Chan’s face clouded instantly at the mention of Charlie’s name. He obviously wasn’t in his good books at the moment.

‘Mr Davenport will be dealt with accordingly, Miss Slaymaker. Thank you for your honesty, and I’ll email you the documents we spoke of by the end of the day,’ Mr Chan said authoritatively as he stood up, making it crystal clear that their meeting was over.

‘Thank you, Mr Chan,’ Jessie said as earnestly as she could, realising her faux pas and trying to salvage her potential job offer.

Jessie got up and smoothed her skirt down before offering Mr Chan her hand to shake. ‘Thank you for thinking of me,’ she said, hoping she was impressing him with her firm handshake and plentiful eye contact. As she reached the door, Jessie hovered, debating internally on whether or not she should ask Mr Chan what it was she’d been dying to know all morning.

‘Mr Chan?’ she said, turning to face him again and forcing herself to be brave.

‘Yes Miss Slaymaker?’ he responded in an unreadable tone.

‘May I ask you something?’

‘Yes, Miss Slaymaker. Ask away.’

Jessie paused whilst she rehearsed the best way of wording what she wanted to say in her head.

‘What is it that you think Charlie, I mean Mr Davenport, may have taken from your office?’ she asked quickly in one breath.

Mr Chan paused for the first time during the meeting, and visibly pondered whether or not to tell her—or at least how much to tell her, Jessie guessed.

‘Some very delicate information has been removed from my usually locked filing cabinets in my usually locked office. As you may or may not know, I am something of a technophobe and have preferred such information to be printed rather than merely in a digital format.’

‘Delicate information?’ It was Jessie’s turn to prompt him now.

‘I can see what makes you a first-rate researcher, Miss Slaymaker,’ Mr Chan responded, smiling at her. Jessie smiled politely in return but her gaze didn’t waver from his for a second.

‘Salary and benefit information as well as some medical information,’ Mr Chan confided after another pause. ‘All of it highly confidential, as I’m sure you can appreciate,’ he added.

‘Salary information about whom?’ Jessie asked slowly, as she let what Mr Chan had said sink in. ‘The senior staff?’

‘Everyone, Miss Slaymaker,’ Mr Chan said, exhaling loudly, allowing a sad worried face to appear for a brief moment. It made him look years older.

‘Oh,’ Jessie replied, realising the valuable nature of this information. It could be used as a weapon to blackmail with, a bargaining tool, or just to be released to certain key people who may take offense at the salaries of some individuals. It was one of the reasons why companies didn’t particularly like coworkers discussing their salaries with each other. It could lead to unrest and discontent and ultimately had the potential to cause nothing but trouble. No wonder Mr Chan looked worried.

Sensing that she may have outstayed her welcome, Jessie politely thanked Mr Chan again and left him in peace. As she returned to her desk she wondered what the hell Charlie was doing with privileged company information. Why had he taken and copied those documents? And perhaps more to the point, what was he going to do with this information? Sell it? Keep it? Use it against the bank to get a better role or more money? That last one was unlikely now. By admitting that it had been Charlie in what had been Mr Chan’s office at the weekend, Jessie had practically sealed his fate. Surely. Jessie wondered what would happen to him now. Dismissed in disgrace? Demoted or maybe even promoted? Stranger things had happened.

Knowing Charlie, he would probably somehow manage to land on his feet and scrape by without being tarnished too much by this whole episode. The more she thought about it, the more Jessie was convinced that Charlie would definitely live to fight another day. He was Charlie Davenport after all.

Chapter 56

Jack woke up feeling rested and relaxed as he stretched out catlike in his warm bed. Except for one thing. It wasn’t
his
hotel bed at all, and it wasn’t even
his
hotel, as he properly woke up and sat up with a start, surveying his surroundings more closely. And why did he suddenly have a killer headache? Feeling rested and relaxed must have been part of his dream. Hazy memories from the previous twenty-four hours slowly began to reorder themselves into some semblance of chronology in his addled mind.

He remembered seeing Jessie in her hotel room… with Charlie. He remembered stomping round Hong Kong trying to avoid Jessie and Charlie and being rather unsuccessful at it. He remembered the rooftop pool scene with Jessie in a tiny white bathing suit and getting all riled up massaging her. After he’d left her there, he’d gone back to his room to shower and then he’d hit the town for a few drinks before he’d met Sonia. Sonia. That was where he was. In Sonia’s swanky apartment. He’d been here before, but he’d never stayed the night. She’d obviously put him up in one of her guest rooms.

Jack tried with all his might to remember which bars he’d been to and where he’d met Sonia. It was all still too hazy and with more than one black spot. He hoped Sonia would be able to enlighten him and fill in some of the gaps. As if on cue, Sonia walked in carrying a tray of coffee, a huge glass of water and a packet of painkillers.

‘You’re a saint,’ Jack said, doing his best to smile at her through the pain of his hangover.

‘Good morning,’ she said sweetly. ‘I guessed you might need these,’ she added, placing the tray on the nightstand.

But there was something wrong. Sonia was wearing a shirt. Only a shirt, from what he could see as she curled up on the bed next to him. That was odd too, considering he must be in her guest room. Her hair was disheveled and she looked to be makeup-free. He’d only ever seen her looking pristine before. And there was something else. She was wearing
his
shirt from the previous evening.
Why is she wearing my shirt?
Jack silently asked himself as he gulped down the painkillers and took several quick swigs of coffee.