Page 19 of Exchange of Heart

Unsure of what to say, I nodded, picked up my briefcase, and just about ran to the elevators to put some distance between Corey’s body and this place.

Especially that bald-headed bull of a man.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Corey

I imagined Nora’s job wouldn’t be hard, but maintaining my balance in these bullshit heels might be the death of me.

‘One too many drinks last night?’ The lady at the desk next to Nora’s smirked.

‘I’m perfectly fine, thank you,’ I snapped.

Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open from the surprise of the harsh tone of Nora’s voice.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ I muttered.

Adopting Nora’s cheerful work attitude required happy hour, every hour, on the hour. Especially considering I was yet to experience her cheer myself.

‘Are you all right?’ She didn’t quite turn to face me.

‘Didn’t sleep well.’ I forced a smile onto my otherwise bland face.

After logging into her computer with the password NeverGiveUp100, I searched for the spreadsheet she’d insisted was on her desktop. Where my desktop was alphabetically organised in folders, hers appeared to be a scavenger hunt designed by a four-year-old. XYZ. Who titled a document like that? My gaze hopped from one icon to another, until finally, during my last moment of patience, I found Gerry’s Gyms next to what appeared to be a spa voucher.

Thankfully, our companies used the same programs, and I powered through her to-do list with smug satisfaction. Her assumption that my dick got me to where I was had struck a chord, but today I proved myself despite this role being an exceptional demotion.

I only hoped Nora wasn’t giving my father a reason to pull any of my brothers from their happy lives and stuff them into my unfortunate office. I opened the internet browser and tried remotely logging into my desktop at Zealy Insurance. The security system denied my access, and I groaned. Their blocking systems were way too advanced for me.

‘Working through lunch again?’ The lady next to me grabbed a tiny cream bag and hung it on her shoulder like a Christmas decoration.

‘Work through lunch? Absolutely not.’

If the poor souls in cubicles could control anything, it was their lunch breaks and work hours. In fact, that might be the only thing they had control over. I snatched my wallet from my desk and walked to the elevator. I’d caught the train to work with Nora who’d insisted the car would draw too much attention, so I scanned the street for something nearby.

‘I don’t think we’ve ever had a lunch break at the same time.’

Christ, I couldn’t escape this lady.

‘Would you like me to show you my favourite Japanese place? They have the best sushi.’ She smiled hopefully.

Noting the shopfronts I could see only sold clothing, I begrudgingly nodded. As we walked, the soundtrack of this lady’s life spewed from her mouth in a series of unfortunate events while I avoided cracks in the path. Wobbling in Nora’s painful heels wasn’t easy, but they still fitted between the smooth concrete squares easier than my own larger feet.

‘… and then I decided enough was enough. Now he has our daughter twenty per cent of the time, yet he still manages to bring her home two hours early, especially when he…’

I’d drowned out her never-ending story for six hundred and five steps. That’s how long she’d gone on.

‘Here we are.’ She managed to adjust the cheer in her voice after that down-in-the-dump’s tale.

I wished she was Paddy. He’d have quietly dropped a cheeseburger on my desk and left me to my foul mood until I was ready to talk. This lady, however, opened the door while I trailed behind as everyone shouted a Japanese greeting in unison.

‘Should we eat in or get takeaway?’ she asked.

‘Takeaway,’ I responded.

Her absurdly long lashes fluttered, and she raised her eyebrows making me realise I’d responded too quickly.

‘I don’t want to be back late. So much to do.’ For once, Nora and her obsessive need for validation worked to my advantage.