Chapter 32 （Nika）
Nika
As soon as I opened the door accessing my floor, I felt the buzz in the air as the bees all moved around in unison.
People were cleaning their desks, removing cups.
I froze when I saw Carla with the industrial blue paper towel in one hand and a spray bottle in the other, attacking her monitor like it had personally offended her.
She was the sort who would complain about the cleaners if the floor hadn’t been hoovered properly. She would even check her keyboard for dust some mornings. That image of her curled up beside the pillar, holding her arse as she followed through, made me feel somewhat better.
“What time do you call this, Nika?” Andy said, standing from his chair.
I glanced at the clock.
“I’m four minutes early and other people aren’t here yet.”
He didn’t reply. He turned and walked across the floor to Claire’s office without another word.
“Good morning,” I said to Carla.
“Morning,” she said, glancing up briefly before the monitor reclaimed her full attention.
I’d barely sat down when she spoke again.
“Do you want a drink?”
I looked up from my bag.
“Uh, no thanks. I asked Francis to get me one from Nero’s on the way in.” I looked around. “Why is everyone running around?”
“The CEO is visiting the floor today,” she said, scrunching the paper into a ball in her fist. “It was all rather sudden.”
Well, well, well, Bad Girl said.
“Andy’s been awfully stressed this morning,” Carla grumbled before turning to rush off to the kitchen.
Francis and Graham appeared by the time I turned my computer on. They looked just as bewildered as each other as they approached our bank of desks.
“A big pow wow’s going on in Claire’s office. What’s all that about?” Francis asked, placing the coffees on her desk, eyes fixed on the far side of the floor.
Graham stood for a moment, looked around, shrugged, and sat down.
Men were such simple creatures. They didn’t want to overtax their brains. I envied them from time to time before the sentiment passed.
“They’re probably strategising about the CEO coming down for a floor visit,” I said, spotting the email.
“Do you think he’s coming because of the Great Incident of 2026?” she said, rubbing her jaw as she scanned the office.
“I told you not to call it that,” Graham snapped, standing abruptly before he stormed off toward the kitchen with his mug.
Rumour had it he’d been one of the ones who’d managed to reach a sink that day. But there were so many rumours from that day.
I was busy reading Claire’s email—a reminder of the clear desk policy and general etiquette for an exec visit—when Francis handed me my coffee.
“You touched a nerve,” I said. “Thanks.”
“Look, Nika.” She leaned forward, dropping her voice. “You know as well as I do the question we all need answered. Did the taps dig into his ass?”
We’re keeping her, Bad Girl chortled.
“Don’t you dare say that in front of Graham,” I said with a chuckle. “He’s ever so sensitive.”
“Do you think he’ll get a flashback when he washes his mug out in the kitchen?” she whispered.
We both stared at the kitchen area before bursting into a fit of giggles. I was evil without guilt and that should have worried me, but it didn't.
I lifted the lid of my coffee and inhaled. A simple luxury. Roasted, freshly ground beans with a hint of chocolate dusted over the frothy milk. I considered licking the lid—waste not, want not—but I spotted Carla on her way back from the kitchen and thought better of it.
“There’s an email about the visit. Carla said Andy was stressed this morning.”
“No wonder. I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten into trouble for the budget on this project.”
“He probably has behind closed doors,” I said, taking a long sip.
Carla stopped at our bank of desks and eyed the blue and black cups with an expression I’d never seen on her before.
“Can you add me to the Nero’s coffee run? I’m happy to take turns,” she said, with a smile that sat slightly too carefully on her face.
Francis and I glanced at one another. The shock in her eyes mirrored exactly what I was thinking.
“Sure—how about Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays?” Francis suggested.
“Great,” Carla said, and sat down.
She could just want coffee. But I suspected Carla had read the room and quietly concluded that backing Andy was not the way forward. Office politics were so damn draining when you could see every move before it was made.
But I had my coffee.
And as I settled in—reading emails, half listening to the floor finding its rhythm around me—I felt a frisson of excitement at the thought of seeing Conrí and Kael. The only one who knew the full depth of wickedness beneath my facade.
His black beast was adequate, Bad Girl said, with a sniff.
My smile broadened over the rim of my coffee cup.
Was he now? I mused.
He was a majestic-looking wolf. Large, strong, a healthy coat of fur. It had been thick, but under the dining room lights it had shone as if a halo of light touched the very tips of it—black pulling blue and silver at the edges depending on how he moved.
By the Gods, you’re going to make me vomit, Bad Girl hissed.
What are you complaining about? He rolled around like a puppy for you.
She didn’t reply.
The silence said everything.