5. Jonathan

J asper Kopetski was an arsehole. But then I'd always known that, even before I'd hired him to be my finance director. He was solid on the professional side. Ruthless, yes, but solid. On the personal side, he threw tantrums in public, and his ego was hugely inflated. Hence here he was, in my little glass home office, his legs spread wide and his large belly wobbling as he snarled in my face.

Arsehole.

"Jonny, this is all madness. You need to get me back into an office. I can't do with this sitting at home trying to conduct meetings over a screen. Personal interaction is a huge part of how we turn things to our advantage. I can't do that remotely. Not to mention that Cheryl is driving me mad."

Him complaining? Not unusual. And I thought his current cohabiting lady was called Melanie, but what did I know? I didn't understand what attracted someone to Jasper Kopetski. Perhaps the giant wallet that was showing through his dress slacks. Perhaps the sweat on his balding forehead. Or maybe the fact that his teeth were too white and too large for his mouth and that I was staring at him in slight disgust.

Again, nothing new. I'd hired him. I'd had to live with his presence in my space for years. And he did deliver the results I demanded, usually on a silver platter. Hence I had made him a double espresso and plonked myself back in my large black leather chair that creaked comfortably as I crossed my arms. I was as bad as him for judging him by his looks; on the inside, Jasper Kopetski was as hard as the marbled floor I was tapping my foot against. Ruthless. Soulless. Demanding.

"You're crunching the numbers, Jasper. How much have we saved this month alone by not having a company HQ? I assume you are paying attention in our morning meetings and seeing all the smiling faces? People love working remotely, and we are producing results."

I was talking nonsense, and Jasper knew it, grimacing as he adjusted his position in my matching visitor's chair.

"You lost your nerve, understandably, and I do partly agree with your decisions. But Jonny, I'm having to conduct meetings in a hotel. Much as I appreciate the facilities of that hovel next door, I would prefer to have my PA at hand and not have to ring her for every little detail to be adjusted."

Lost my nerve…damn cheek of the man. Jasper had been the first to call me out on my hearing issues, but the truth of the matter was that he'd also covered for my hapless slips of the tongue, more than once, and he'd quickly picked up on correcting me and covering up my mistakes. I was grateful, but I'd have preferred if he didn't keep shoving it in my face.

"I'm sure Kizzy is more than happy to attend any meetings where you feel her presence would be useful. That's what she's there for. As long as you book with Jenny, you can have her at hand."

"Not my job to ring Jenny for admin issues." Jasper rolled his eyes. I rolled mine too, because that was exactly his job. Downsizing had produced the results we had envisaged, and remote working suited everyone. The only one whinging was Jasper. And…I hated to admit it…me, but I was just tired.

"Remote working is here to stay. We will have complaints, that's normal. Teething issues. HR is tracking people's workloads and productivity. In the future, we'll need to keep an eye on getting people together in person to upskill and performance manage, but for now, this is the way forward. I like it. They like it. So get with the programme, Jasper."

I tended to treat him like the demanding adult he was. I paid him enough to keep him in designer suits and retain the driver I knew was waiting downstairs. I also knew how much he spent on his lady friends. Note the plural. Jasper always had at least a couple of women on the go. I shook my head again, hoping he would just slurp down that coffee and get out of my sight. He was a necessary evil.

"So, talk me through the Lambeth Council deal. The site is ready, and the planning has gone through surprisingly smoothly. Will the budget hold?"

Talking shop was the way to handle the man, who immediately pulled up the data on his laptop and turned the screen towards me. Numbers scrolled too fast past my eyes as his mouth rolled off figures and names and words that would have meant nothing to your average person on the street but were as familiar to me as air and water. We were good. I liked what we were producing here, and the results would not only give us a huge profit, but also… Well, I liked to think that we were offering quality life opportunities to the fine people of London. Jobs. Retail. Affordable homes. Stupidly expensive homes that nobody in their right mind would purchase.

Well, I had. I laughed out loud at the thought, making Jasper snort.

"It's not funny, Jonny," he whined.

"It's excellent." I gestured to my screen, where Jenny's familiar face appeared like magic, saving me from this meeting lasting longer than I needed it to be. I gave Jasper a dismissive wave and he promptly excused himself from my office. I smiled as the door shut behind him as he left. Glass offices were brilliant. No need to walk people out or let people in. I had a handy little remote lock and could sit here all day, letting my life play out. No need to do anything but smile.

Jenny made me smile.

"So…" she started, shuffling papers in front of her. "Kids are napping, so I've been super-productive. Contracts are being couriered over to you in fifteen, and you need to have a face-to-face with Thomas Wu tomorrow. Ten o'clock work for you? I'll book a meeting room next door, keep it simple."

"Thank you." I could do with that meeting being a swift Teams call, but Mr Wu was particular and needed careful massaging to agree to our rather brutal cut-price offer for his third-rate plot of land—something I hated being part of, but that was what our line of business was all about. I wasn't brutal. I wasn't an arsehole. But I, too, played that part to get the job done.

"I'll be right there. Usual deal. Don't worry, anything important, I will relay to you. No misunderstandings, not on my shift. You get all that?"

Jenny stopped her nonsensical waving of papers and looked at me. I nodded. She knew how to communicate effectively with me, despite the constant paper shuffling and tapping on her keyboard, which drove me mad.

"You eaten?" she asked.

No point lying. I hadn't. Not since yesterday when I'd gulped down too many coffees and crammed a piece of toast down my neck. The last slice of bread. I needed to venture out and pick up some supplies. The corner shop down the block had essentials. They didn't stock coffee beans, though, so I had to gather myself up to reply.

"Can you put an order in for a weekly delivery of espresso beans?"

"Decaf espresso beans. Weekly delivery. Done."

I grimaced. Those decaf beans tasted like pond water. And this was exactly why I adored Jenny, who let a small giggle rip.

"Let me rephrase that. I will change brand and supplier. That better?"

"Potentially?" I whinged. I was getting as bad as Jasper.

"Jonny, get your skinny butt down to the restaurant next door. I will ring them now and tell them to expect you. I want a three-course lunch in that stomach of yours within the hour. I will also demand they send me the receipt."

"Checking up on me again?" I teased. She laughed in my face.

"Of course. You're hopeless, Jonny. You need to find a life partner. Or a live-in housekeeper. It's your choice."

"You tried that before, remember? You got me a trainee butler. It was highly inappropriate."

"Miki was twenty-five and a fully trained chef. He hoovered like a god and made you food. He was also there to teach you to lipread. He was a great butler, and you were a terrible student. I was gutted when he left."

"I was thrilled."

She laughed. I did too. It had been years ago and the worst summer of my life. My house had been clean, my meals served on a plate by the most annoying man I'd ever met, who'd also forced me to sit and practise lipreading. Staring at his mouth for hours on end had given me palpitations. I had stayed in a hotel for the last month of his contract, just to avoid going home. It hadn't been good, despite the best of intentions being there.

"Go. Go eat," Jenny nagged. "You look pale and drained. If I was there, I'd put you down for a nap."

"And serve me chicken nuggets and little peas." I could see the remains of her children's lunches on the table behind her. Multitasking like the pro Jenny was.

"You know it." She smiled. Then she hung up.

I did as I was told and pottered down to the now-familiar restaurant next door. I didn't even have to open my mouth before they had me seated and poured me a glass of water. And here was my least-favourite waiter, mumbling into his apron and not looking at me.

"You again. Are you ordering off the menu or shall I just tell Chef to feed you?"

Curt. Kurt. Whatever. He grated on me, and I was tempted to mimic Jasper and throw him off with a dismissive wave.

"Is Donovan back yet?" I took it all back. I was as bad as Jasper. Just paler and skinnier and with a beard that needed trimming. Perhaps I should have looked in the mirror before going out. I hadn't, and now I wondered what I actually looked like, though I could tell my brown mop of hair was all over the place without a mirror.

"They are actually. Would you like a word?"

Would I? Perhaps I would. Mabel hadn't been around for the past week, which was why I'd not eaten much or ventured down here. Instead, I'd sat up in my bird's nest and sulked, avoiding Kurt and his colleagues like the plague. Totally irrational, I knew that, but…well. I wasn't social. And I needed…

Sunshine . The warmth thawed my frozen chest as a vision of yellow floated through the room. A dress. I couldn't help smiling. Heels. A face full of make-up to accentuate the perfectly coiffed hair. Their own, not a wig. I could tell, and it was…

"Mr Templar," came out of that perfectly pink pout. I blushed, I couldn't help it. This was what I'd craved, the warmth that spread through my body as they took a seat next to me, hands folded neatly in front of them on the table.

"Donovan," I said politely.

"Mabel," they corrected me. "Donovan sounds like I work in corporate sales and have just bombed the deal of the century."

"That bad?" I tried to be professional and not smile like a loon.

I smiled like a loon.

"Mr Templar. I'm sorry I have neglected you this past week, but I had some personal affairs to see to." A small smile.

"That young waitress filled me in the other day. You lost your home and had to move back in with your parents. Your mother is unwell. Your father is apparently appalled."

They laughed. I loved that they did, and I had no idea why. This was only the second time I'd talked to them, and here I was, behaving like some lovesick fool.

Before I could offer an apology for my forwardness, they held their hand up to stop me.

"I have nothing to hide, and my staff have loose lips. My skeletons are often thrown at our unsuspecting diners before I have any say in the matter. But my staff member summed that up pretty well. I need to find a new place to live this week and remove myself from my father's kitchen table before he evicts me. Don't worry, my parents adore me, but they have no time for me bumbling around the house pretending my life is over."

"Your life is nowhere near over." I was surprising myself here, both with holding a conversation and the easy smile on my face.

"I'm forty-three, single and unloved, a trail of broken hearts in my wake. Still, I need a place to live, and I also need to work, something that is currently hindered by my commute to the fine town of Newbury."

"Newbury?" I grimaced. I really needed to control myself. "The Newbury down the M4?"

"Parking is a bitch," they said. "Then I have to pay the congestion charge and ULEZ fees, and I need to start taking the train, but even that is draining my meagre funds." They rolled their eyes, and I cringed at the fact that I had a personal driver on call that would take me anywhere I wanted within minutes. Our lives were wildly different. Yet here I was, basking in the attention from a human being who…

I cleared my throat, and Mabel jumped, like they suddenly realised they'd overstayed their welcome.

"Mr Templar, apologies, I will leave you to ponder the menu. Or would you prefer me to surprise you again? Our chef has some incredible creations in mind—he's curated a simple menu with your name on it. One that might just be what your doctor ordered."

They smiled sweetly, and I wanted to cry, beg, plead for them to sit down again and talk to me, let me feel normal for a change. I had things I wanted to tell them, which was insane because they were a stranger and nobody in their right mind wanted to hear my inner thoughts and insane ramblings. I was crazy even thinking that.

I needed a friend. One that made me happy.

I had no words, so I nodded. Took an awkward sip out of my glass of water. Tried to swallow without spluttering and making an even bigger fool out of myself, because they were still there, watching me.

"Are you okay, Mr Templar?" they asked quietly, concern written all over their face.

"Yes." I cleared my throat again, no idea what to say.

"Can I ask you a personal question? Please don't take offence, but I would hate for your requirements to be overlooked."

"Of course." I cringed on the inside. What now?

"I notice you keep your eyes on my mouth during our conversations. Am I right in assuming you lipread?"

I was, a little flummoxed by that observation. Being called out like that.

"Yes, you are," I confirmed weakly and tried to smile. "I'm not deaf, though, and I have no special requirements." That was my usual line when called upon to explain myself where no explanation should be necessary.

"I think I just need to eat," I said. And a way out of this awkward conversation.

"Then eat you shall." They nodded, recognising my intent to dismiss them, smiled and then left as once more the air returned to the bleak cold that seemed to surround me lately.