“Crap, sorry! I’ll take care of it right away.”

“It’s supposed to be waiting for him when he arrives.”

“I know. It’s my mistake. I’ll go in now and apologise.”

I left before she could stress me out further and slipped inside King’s office. I held my hands up. “Mea culpa — I forgot your brekkie, but I’m remedying the matter right now. What ya got a hankering for?”

Brekkie, Alexis, really? For some reason my brain thought being funny about the mixup would make it less of a big deal.

King cocked a brow as he looked up at me from the newspaper he was scanning. “Te absolvo. Eggs Benedict and a double espresso. You speak Latin?”

I tried not to snicker. “Nah, I’m just clever like that. And that’s one eggs Benedict and a double espresso coming right up. I’ll be back quicker than John Travolta in a leather jacket.”

King shot me a confused glance but just shook his head. He clearly didn’t get my “Greased Lightning” joke, but whatever. I headed for the nearest café and got his breakfast. When I returned, he was in the middle of what sounded like a serious phone call, so I quietly set his food down on his desk. He gave my wrist a quick touch and mouthed a thank you before he was knee deep in his phone call again.

I returned to my desk and set to work, trying not to let my thoughts linger on the casual way he’d touched me. It was a touch of familiarity, and we weren’t familiar. Well, not really. Perhaps the way I joked around made him think we were, but that was just my way. I was incapable of putting on airs and graces, and tended to act the same whether I was talking to my grandma or the Queen of England. Not that I’ve ever met the Queen, but you know what I mean.

Mid-morning came and went, and then there was a handsome dark-skinned guy in a suit arriving at the office to see King. His exotic looks, however, didn’t match his public schoolboy accent. In fact, he sounded a lot like my boss.

“Ah, Mr Batage, it’s good to see you again,” said Gillian. “Is that a new suit?”

Mr Batage smiled at her and glanced down at what he was wearing. “Good to see you, too, Gill. And yes, it is new. Glad you noticed.”

Gillian preened at him shortening her name to “Gill” and gave him a demure, “Well, it looks really good on you, and I love the way you’re cutting your hair these days. Follow me — Mr King is just inside his office.”

Mr Batage gave me a nod hello before following Gillian. I continued working until she returned and shut the door behind her. She made sure it was closed tight before sidling up to my desk and giving me the lowdown.

“That’s Dilvan Batage. He’s a good friend of Mr King’s. They went to school together. Dilvan is a trader over at The Ring, but he comes from really old money. His family are wealthy tea exporters from Sri Lanka.”

I glanced up at her. “Huh. What’s The Ring?”

She looked at me like I was slow. “It’s the London metal exchange. Busy place. Mr King took me along on a visit once. It’s the only market that still trades solely in cash.”

“Ah. Got ya. So he’s some sort of hotshot, then?”

“Pretty much. He’s really successful.” I wasn’t mistaken when I saw the dreamy look flash across her face.

“And easy on the eyes, too,” I added, giving her a wink.

Gillian firmed her lips and straightened up. “That’s neither here nor there.”

“But you wouldn’t mind his heres having a go on your theres, would you?”

Her pinched expression grew even more so, and I had to laugh. “I’m messing with you, Gill. Relax.”

Without another word she returned to her workstation, and I thought I might have embarrassed her. Though I found it hard to believe a woman who flirted as much she did could be embarrassed by a bit of friendly teasing, but hey, what did I know. I’d have to watch my mouth with Gillian in future so as not to cause offence.

I answered the phone then and scribbled down a message to pass along to King. The woman sounded adamant that I pass it on ASAP, so I rose and went to knock on his door.

“Come in,” I heard him call before I turned the knob and stepped inside. King sat in his usual chair, while Dilvan perched on the edge of his desk. Both men were sharing what appeared to be a glass of whiskey. I swear, it was a scene straight out of Mad Men. I had to resist the urge to crack a joke about old broads and crazy dames.

“Ah, Dilvan, let me introduce you to Eleanor’s replacement,” said King as I walked into the room and passed him the note. “This is Alexis.”

I turned and gave the man a polite smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alexis,” said Dilvan.

“You, too.”

Dilvan shot King a smirk. “I think your other assistant has a sweet spot for me.”

King grinned. “Oh, really? Gillian?”

“That’s the one.”

When King’s attention slid to me and I saw the playfulness in his eyes, I got a feeling I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.

“Alexis has a something of a theory about Gillian, isn’t that right?”

“Oh?” Dilvan put in. Now both of their attentions were levelled on me, and I felt a bit hot under my blouse.

“I think you’re getting me mixed up with someone else, Mr King,” I said, quiet but firm, about to leave when he continued,

“No, I’m not. If I remember correctly, you said Gillian would marry a cup if — ”