2. Chapter 2 #3
A light knock on my passenger window brought the conversation to a pause.
I turned and unlocked the door with a facial expression that made me look less scary.
Like Nigel reminds me to do when in public, but I don’t always follow through.
Though this time it was Hua, the teenager whose parents owned the local Chinese shop.
For some reason, she always insisted on bringing the food out for us and leaving it to rest on the passenger seat. No matter how many times I told her it wasn’t necessary, she continued to insist until I stopped fighting back.
“Hey Hua, how are you?” I ask, wanting to be courteous.
“Hello, Mr Walters, hello Theo,” she beams with a big grin, flashing her braces as she dips her head in the car to put the food down and offers Theo a wave. He greeted her with a bright smile.
Waving with his whole arm, making Hua laugh. Once she put the food down, she held out the card reader towards me and patiently waited for me to pull out my card from my wallet.
After tapping my card, adding a generous tip for her and her family, like I always do.
She handed me the receipt with both hands, though I didn’t need it.
I kindly accepted it, causing our hands to subtly touch, something that always seemed to make her blush, the same shade of red as the lanterns hung outside her parents’ shop.
Nigel says it’s because she has a crush on me; apparently, everyone did, including Nigel, when I’m not making his life hell - his words, not mine.
It didn’t bother me either way. I didn’t believe in mixing business with pleasure, so work-wise, I didn’t care who found me attractive and as for this?
It was just a crush; all girls her age had one, and like girls her age, she’d get over it soon enough, and it wasn’t like I was treating her any differently than I would anyone else.
I thanked Hua for the food as she closed the car door, ignoring Nigel, who started singing the chorus of Love Story by Taylor Swift in my ear with his death tone singing.
He was always adamant about the whole Hua crush thing.
Making a neat U-turn, I hung up whilst he was finishing the chorus and headed to the office.
****
“I’m sorry, bud, I promise we’ll be quick!” I apologise to Theo, who was holding my hand in the lift whilst I held our dinner in the other hand.
“That’s okay, Ollie. I like coming to your work,” he says with a sweet smile, watching the lights for each floor come up until we reach the 40th floor.
Once there, we stepped out and headed towards my office. I didn’t have to worry about others seeing Theo because most of the people on this floor had already gone for the day, and only I had access to the floor’s footage in mine and Nigel’s adjoining office.
When we got to my office, I quickly laid out Theo’s food so he could eat, and if he made a mess, the cleaners would come in soon anyway. While he was distracted, chomping on a chicken ball, I walked to the door connecting my office to find Nigel at his desk.
“So, what’s the game plan?” I ask, leaning against his desk, crossing my arms.
“Well, after you rudely hung up on me, I compiled the evidence for you to look over, and I was just about to go down and see if Macy has left yet-” Nigel started to explain, but I had to interrupt.
“Who’s Macy?” I asked, raising a brow. The name seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.
I could tell by the look on Nigel’s face that she was someone I should know, but I didn’t really take note of many females around me.
“Macy’s your top paralegal…she’s worked for you since you arrived in London.
” He explains, hoping it would ring a bell.
“She’ll be giving birth soon?” he tries again when it finally clicks. I do remember approving someone for extended maternity leave with pay.
“Ah, the pregnant one?” I asked, stretching my jaw.
“Yes.” Nigel sighs. “Macy,” he corrects me, a little louder, making sure the name registers in my brain. “I think she is still here, so I was about to-” Nigel starts, but stops when I suddenly push myself off the desk and shove my hands in my pockets.
“Any luck on finding a suitable nanny yet?” I ask, raising my brows, watching him take a deep breath, his eyes closed for a moment. His usual reaction when I interrupt him more than once helps him cool down.
“No, not yet.” he glares at me, despite knowing it doesn’t affect me at all, most of the time.
“Okay, hold off on that; I have an idea,” I declare, walking back into my office and tussling Theo’s hair whilst he drinks his apple juice.
“I’ll be back in a minute, bud. Stay with Uncle Nigel, kay?” I add, then walk out.
“W-wait… Where are you going?” Nigel panicked, now standing in my office, glancing at Theo, then back at me.
“Downstairs to talk to…Maggie?”
“Macy!” He snorted, rolling his eyes. “That’s what I said, Macy. I won’t be long; watch him till I get back; help yourself to some food before you waste away.” I grumble, turning my back on him.
“Oliver Walters, I didn’t know you cared so much!” he sings dramatically, slapping his hand on his heart.
“I don’t. Just don’t want the hassle of finding a new assistant.” I smirk, soaking in the scowl on his face through the reflection of the glass door, then I stride towards the lift. If this went the way I needed it to, things would finally start falling into place.
****
I climb into the lift and make my way down to the Paralegal floor of our building. As expected, most of them have already left for the day, but the one person I was looking for was still here. She always is, and is the only person around here who seems to know what the hell they’re doing.
I step out and head down the hall leading to the library, which is mostly empty as I expected.
Most of the interns have either quit and gone home to cry or are probably drinking their life choices away in some nearby bar.
Not that I care. If you can’t handle this job at the bottom of the food chain, what makes you think you can handle the big leagues?
Entering the library, I head past a few rows of bookshelves towards the desks in the middle, and that’s when I see her.
One of the best paralegals I’ve had the pleasure of working with, not that she ever needs to hear me say that. Her fiery ginger curls are pulled in a ponytail that’s starting to unravel, no doubt because of how often she keeps clutching her scalp in frustration.
I approach her whilst she holds the end of a pencil in her mouth, flicking through the mountain of books, attempting to drown her where she sits. I call out her name twice, but it’s like she doesn’t hear me.
So, I chose to stand there and wait, I appreciate that she is too lost in her work to notice the outside world and I have no idea how I’m going to ask for something from someone I barely know, but she is the only worker here I tolerate and judging from what I’ve heard from Nigel, she can be straight forward - Just what I need right now.
I stand there for about a minute or so, when she finally turns her head and jumps so suddenly her chair scoots backwards, and she saves herself from falling out of her chair.
My face remains neutral as I hear her curse under her breath, and lord knows I want to laugh out loud at what just happened.
It’s her fault, as I did give her a warning beforehand.
Then I glance down to see her grip her stomach for dear life as she tries to come to terms with the shock of my presence.
A completely understandable reaction, as the two of us have never really seen that much of each other despite working together for almost two years now.
“Mrs Jackson.” I greet her by clearing my throat, using her last name because though Nigel just told me her name, I’ve forgotten again:
“How is the research going for the Henderson’s case?” I ask.
Small chat is something I hate more than anything, but it’s necessary chit-chat before I can get what I want. She just stares back at me with her eyes popping out of her head and her skin slightly pale. She acts as if she’s seen a ghost.
“Well, you only just gave me the file this afternoon, and I’m not superwoman, so I’ve barely made a dent,” she groans, giving me a fake smile.
Which surprises me; I’m her boss. You would have thought she’d try a little harder to please me and not act like my presence is a pain, like the other butt-kissing weasels at this firm do. However, oddly, it feels like fresh air.
“Well, I need you to also look into the Thatcher file while you’re at it.
We currently aren’t working with them; however, I’d like to know everything there is to know about them because I have a feeling they will become potential clients in the foreseeable future.
” I recite; she stares back at me with an expression that’s only blank on the surface.
But I wasn’t one of the top lawyers in the country if I couldn’t tell when someone was flipping me off with their eyes, like she was right now.
It’s no doubt because I just piled on another three or more hours of work onto her already busy load.
Which I do feel a smudge of guilt for, but Macy can handle it.
Macy.
That’s her name.
She nods towards me and thinks I don’t hear the way she mumbles a curse word towards me under her breath; her thick Irish accent doesn’t conceal her anger as she turns, getting back to work.
I know she expected me to walk away so it takes a few seconds for her to realise I have more to say, taking a deep breath she turns to face me again, leaning her arm on the desk and raising her eyebrows, waiting for me to say my peace but as I watch her other hand rest on her stomach, I suddenly feeling ridiculous that I thought this was a good idea.
Biting my tongue and feeling the pain of my stupid decision because I’m completely unprepared, and I don’t know how to word this without ending up in HR’s office tomorrow morning, so I let the panicked part of my brain respond, but regret the idiotic words that come out.