Page 18 of Exchange of Heart

I passed the scrunched faces of the windowed party-planner room – yet again – and strode into the conference room.

‘Sorry.’ My head dipped with a quick, no-nonsense nod as I continued to my seat.

My enormous new foot size caught on the leg of someone’s chair and, somehow, I threw my briefcase into the air, unlocked, releasing the papers, which fluttered through the air like a confetti bomb while I stared from the ground.

I was horrified. Mortified. Zip me into a body bag and take me to the morgue.

‘Sorry.’ I jumped to my feet and scooped the stray papers into a messy pile.

They’d made it from one end of the room to the other, and the bald man picked up the piece that had fluttered onto the desk in front of him.

‘Care to explain?’ He turned the page to face me, which displayed a cartoon drawing of what appeared to be him as an enraged rhinoceros.

‘Eerily similar,’ I chirped.

My gaze darted between him and the doodle, and his forehead crease deepened with each second. I snatched the drawing from his hand (thank God for Corey’s long arms) and stuffed it into the middle of my messy pile so he couldn’t find it again. I glanced down and realised luck was finally on my side. The report sat on top, and my shoulders sagged with relief.

‘Here we go,’ I cried in delight.

I grabbed the paper and displayed it for everyone to see.

‘I think we should park this meeting and pick it up again tomorrow.’ A man at the back stood from his seat.

If Corey had a heart, it sunk. Or maybe that was my heart? I had no idea whose organs were in which body.

‘I want to see you in my office.’ The bald man pointed at me.

Body by body, the conference room cleared as I tried to sort through the ridiculous mix of papers Corey kept in his briefcase. I sorted them into piles of drawings (they were really good, and I wondered where he’d gotten them from), reports, and things I didn’t understand. I started to swirl the lock pad to limit another confetti drop, when the bald man poked his head back into the room.

‘What’s taking so long?’ he snapped.

‘There’s a difference between a good job and a rushed job.’ I jerked my head up with wide eyes, cursing myself for forgetting to play the part of Corey.

Based on the devilish look in his eyes, this man was furious.

‘I wanted to ensure I wouldn’t waste your time again with this briefcase. The clasp must be faulty or something.’ That should save this conversation.

‘My office. Now.’ The bald man spun his round body around, taking his terrible communication skills with him out the door.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, fingers desperate to text Hayley about my terrible day. It didn’t matter how I tried to word the message, I couldn’t reveal anything without sounding like I’d gone mad. Even if she did believe me, she’d swoon over us being forced together instead of seeing it as a catastrophic problem.

Confident I could worm my way out of whatever trouble I’d caused at work before we swapped bodies, I slid my phone back into my pocket. With a quick re-tuck of my shirt and check of my jacket for marks, I took a deep breath, then knocked on the wooden door.

‘Come in,’ his gruff voice called out.

A book had insisted on the importance of body language, so with my chin held high, I entered the room and waited in front of his desk for an invitation to sit. Let him see that he called the shots. People in charge loved the feeling of delegating. Dominating assholes. I wasn’t going to be like that. I’d already decided on my leadership style, but this was fantastic research on leadership styles I didn’t want to mimic.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ He frowned.

‘Ah…’

‘Sit down,’ he yelled. ‘What the hell is going on with you today? You need to go home or something?’

Home. That’s exactly where I needed to go.

‘I’m, ah, having a difficult morning.’

‘Go home, you’re no use here today.’