Page 44 of Exchange of Heart

Nora

His own private parking spot undercover.

Of course.

The car lights flashed behind me as I hit the lock button and strode to the elevator. I filled my lungs with hope and determination while I waited. I would be the best damn financial manager this company had ever seen.

‘You’re here early.’ Paddy fell in line with me as I powered through the office.

I checked my watch. Early? It was nine-thirty.

‘I left a few notes on your desk, and your father wants that report by the end of the week. I’m not sure if you remember me mentioning it on Monday?’

I’d regurgitated half my stomach’s contents in the lobby bath-room then refilled it with painkillers, but my head pounded hard enough that I was sure the grim reaper must be ready and waiting for me to keel over so he could claim my soul. Paddy sniffed me.

‘Are you hungover?’

‘No. No, I’m not.’

Corey insisted I be nice to Paddy, but his superior nostrils were pissing me off. Besides, the longer I spent with him, the more chance there was he’d realise something was wrong with ‘Corey’. I glanced at his nose and bent my knees for a better look. Perhaps his nostrils were extra large or something. It would be fascinating, like the way some people could smell ants.

‘You’re definitely hung over,’ he said.

‘I am not!’

‘Yeah, you are. Your skin’s gone that weird pale colour. I’ll drop you some painkillers later.’ He stopped matching my pace at my doorway and turned the other way.

Hayley would never notice the colour of my skin. Neither would my mother – and she birthed me. My brothers, however, had a keen eye for detail. What a strange skill they shared with Paddy. I placed my briefcase on the desk and picked up a note waiting for me. Well, waiting for Corey. The black letters scrawled across the crumpled page were loopy and artistic.

Paddy, you know you can come to me whenever you need.

Corey.

Strange. I turned it over and noticed short stumpy letters on the other side.

Thanks for the loan. I’ll pay back every cent.

I promise.

P

Wow. So Corey Flemmington’s heart wasn’t filled entirely with black tar after all. I folded the note into my pocket to hand over tonight and turned on his laptop. I didn’t have time to get caught up in his personal lending habits, despite the intriguing desire to find out why Paddy was so important to Corey. I mean, sure, they’re best friends, but he’s borderline possessive of this guy. Perhaps he makes a terrific cappuccino. Or maybe they enjoy the tension of their power imbalance. A shudder of disgust rippled down my spine, so I busied my mind organising the papers on his desk into five stacks. Using the tiny amount of information I had, I wrote myself a to-do list.

Finalise report

Meet colleagues properly

Respond to emails

Find out who meeting is with on Friday.

Shit.

Tomorrow was Friday. Who on earth booked his calendar for a meeting he had no information on? I scratched my red-marked palm.

‘Hey, Paddy,’ I yelled.

His eager face appeared a moment later. For a brief moment, I wondered if I should test the waters by calling him darling or baby. No, no. Irreparable damage like that could see Corey with a criminal record or sexual harassment listed against his name, and we had a truce now.