Secret Crush (Secret #3)
1. Chapter One
Chapter One
I t’s not as if she hadn’t checked the phone alarm the night before.
Evie had been sure she had checked the alarm was on the weekday setting, not weekend. Ten to seven not nine. If it had been the weekend she could have been enjoying her second coffee in bed, scrolling through Tik Tok before heading out for a run. Then it would have been lunch with her best friend Grace at their favourite café in town, before an afternoon of Netflix, followed by drinks with friends or curling up for old movies on the sofa.
But today was Monday. She should have woken up an hour earlier than when she’d jolted from a deep sleep, something internally telling her to get up. She had to be thankful for that at least, Evie grunted as she pedalled as hard as she could on her bike, grimacing at every red light that stood between her and work. At least this way she still had a chance of getting in before her boss.
Problem was, she considered as she pushed off from the last set of lights before the office, the lack of time hadn’t given her a chance to wash her hair, or apply anything more than a blob of tinted moisturiser. It also left no opportunities for her to sneak into the staff toilet to sort her hair out after it had been squashed under her helmet, before heading out onto the office floor. Or have a coffee. Or breakfast. It was tough deciding which was worse to miss out on.
Evie enjoyed the routineness of her routine. If she stuck to her regulated timetable everything, from her 45 minute gym workout (or run, depending on the day) to her skincare regime, to the food she ate, was perfect. Precise. It was her relaxation and her meditation, her stress redactor and her joy. When she got into bed, in the neatly made up bedding, with her night-time serums soaking into her skin, Evie would breathe in deeply and feel completely and utterly content.
It also meant she’d arrive at the office a good half an hour before most of the other staff, and ensure she could find space in the bike storage. For a company that piled on the incentives to their staff to use alternative forms of transport, they’d not considered that in a company of fifty, more than three people would want to use a bike and secure them. So it was that Evie had to be first in, or there would be nowhere for her to securely lock her pride and joy, a vintage style mint blue bike complete with wicker basket. The issue she was currently facing.
Evie looked at the storage shed she was standing outside of, but knew by the way the door had a light bulge to it, there would be no room to leave her bike. To the left of the shed was an alleyway that led to a dead end. She knew there was a drainpipe there she could lock her bike to. Evie had only once made the mistake of turning up bang on time for work, to discover there was nowhere for her to put her bike, and had to resort to the alleyway, with its dripping pipe and puddles. Shrugging her shoulders in defeat, Evie wheeled the bike to the bottom of the alley, stepping aside from the large puddles which threatened to soak through her crisp white trainers. She clipped the bike to the drainpipe and watched forlornly as a drip splashed on the cream leather of her saddle. Evie took her rucksack off and felt inside, grinning at the carrier bag she had stashed away for this very purpose. Well, not this purpose. But any. She liked to be prepared – she’d been an excellent Brownie and Girl Guide. Tying it over the saddle she breathed a sigh of relief that she would at least not have to return to a wet seat when she came home.
Maybe the day would get better.
Tossing her bright red hair over her shoulder and pulling her shoulders back, Evie repeated the mantra she’d seen online over the weekend to herself in her head, ‘I am the best version of me’, whilst walking back down the alley and out into the sunshine that was starting to show signs of staying, after weeks of incessant July rain. Evie enjoyed the light touch of warmth on her back as she strode to the front of the office, keyed in the passcode and made her way inside.
She chose the lift rather than the stairs. Usually it would be the stairs to get in the all-important steps in, but she needed to cool down after her furious bike ride and she was hoping the air-conditioned lift would do that. Using the quiet sanctum of the lift Evie quickly appraised herself in the mirrored walls. Her face had managed to turn the same red as her hair, and her usually very pale skin was blotchy with exertion. She had considered a slick of lip-gloss but decided nothing was going to help her other than a glass of chilled water, and to sit at her desk. At least, she considered, the air-con was helping to cool her a little and the sweat that had pooled at the base of her back wasn’t going to show through the white cotton tee currently tucked into her jeans.
Evie walked out of the lift, turned left, checking the time on her phone as she did. Five past nine. With any luck she’d be able to sneak in unnoticed, grab a coffee and that glass of water before the office stand-up – the term her boss gave for the meeting he made them all attend at nine thirty every morning to ‘check-in’ with the team.
‘Check-up’ was more of an accurate term as far as Evie was concerned.
Her boss, Malcolm, was a late forty-something balding man who thought he was twenty years younger but had two failed marriages and four children behind him to tell everyone otherwise. He was however, a very astute businessman who had followed his natural instincts to build an impressive interior design company that was at the cutting edge of the industry. Horizon Designs was where anyone who had the cash went to have their homes decorated.
As one of the senior designers, Evie had experienced many opportunities to visit the homes of the very rich, the very famous and the very royal. Their work relied upon their discretion however, and – even if it weren’t for the many non-disclosure agreements Evie would sign across the year – she wouldn’t have told a soul, not even her mum, what the inside of the King’s bedroom looked like, or how many TVs a certain Russian football manager had insisted on for the yacht she worked on the year before.
The door clanged behind her and Evie gulped. All fifty employees of Horizon Designs had turned to face her.
‘Ah, here she is,’ Malcolm’s voice boomed out whilst Evie tried to work out why the meeting had started early. Of all days. ‘I was just introducing our newest member of the Horizon Designs family. Evie is one of our most esteemed senior designers, which is why we’ll make an allowance for her tardiness,’ Malcolm laughed at his own joke as Evie smiled shamefaced and tried to hide within the group of people who had suddenly moved away from her as though she were a bad smell.
‘Evie, this is James, he’s my new second in command. Your new boss.’ As the crowd parted Evie caught a glimpse of the person replacing her colleague, Amber, who had left to run her own agency, and the shock hit her like the glass of iced water she’d been dreaming of only moments before.
James.
Malcolm had begun talking about something else as Evie continued to stare at James open-mouthed. The boy she’d been in love with when they were sixteen. The boy who’d told her he’d do anything for her. The boy who declared his undying love.
The boy who stood her up on prom night and disappeared from her life ten years ago.