FIFTEEN #2
‘I had a locked gate between me and the van. I couldn’t even tell if anyone was in it at first,’ I said. ‘Plus, I thought I might be able to get its reg or a picture of the driver.’
‘And put yourself in danger.’
‘It was a calculated move. I was at no time in danger.’ I said the words firmly, not wishing to spell it out to him that I had been in considerably more dangerous situations in my military career.
There was a small silence. ‘I’ll send Paddy up for the week.’
‘There’s no need.’
‘It’s not open for debate. Send me the video footage too.’ His voice was firm. ‘Staff safety is a priority. Over and above everything else.’
‘I can manage.’
‘I know you can. I don’t doubt that. But this is my call. And before you say anything, it has nothing to do with you being a woman.’
‘I hope not. I thought we were over that.’
‘We most definitely are over that,’ said Oliver. His tone softened. ‘It’s purely a numbers decision, Alex. Trust me.’
And I did, even though I didn’t want to.
Paddy arrived the next day and bunked down in Grainger’s quarters, while I got myself settled into my own lodge. Before the first day was out, Paddy had fitted surveillance cameras up at the back gate.
‘Boss’s orders,’ he said when I went out to see what he was doing.
Mackenzie came up and I went over again what I’d seen. He made a note in his pocketbook and said he’d carry out some extra patrols. ‘Probably nothing,’ he said. ‘Don’t be worrying now.’
‘I’m not,’ I replied. Paddy gave me a look that said he didn’t believe me and that only pissed me off.
The weekend arrived far too quickly and not quickly enough, both things simultaneously, depending on which version of me was in charge at any given moment.
The Alex who was looking forward to Oliver arriving.
Or the Alex who was very aware that her boss would be there for the weekend and she needed to behave accordingly.
They were not, unfortunately, the same Alex.
I couldn’t afford to make the same mistake I’d made before.
I knew that. I also knew that what made it complicated wasn’t the situation.
It was him. There was something very different about Oliver Laker.
A control that had nothing to do with ego, nothing to do with the kind of alpha posturing I’d spent years navigating in the army.
It wasn’t performative. It wasn’t for the room.
It was something deeper than that. Not strength exactly, more like protection. I knew because it was the same for me.
Oliver had phoned the night before, as he always did, even though the Grainger updates were minimal at this point. He said he’d be at Risk that afternoon and would pick me up at 5pm. Burns Night supper was at 6pm in Risk. Any briefing could be done in the car on the way into town, he’d said.
At 3pm, my phone alerted me that someone was at the gates. I assumed it was Oliver, so I was surprised when I checked the CCTV footage. It was a delivery driver.
‘Delivery for Alex Cartwright,’ he said, leaning out of the van window.
I was about to buzz him through but then thought better of it. The new rule was no unauthorised vehicles or personnel on the estate, even delivery drivers. Especially delivery drivers.
‘Leave it at the gate,’ I said. ‘Someone will be down to pick it up.’
That someone would be me, but they didn’t need to know that.
I watched on the screen as the guy got out, went around to the side of his van and then walked back to the gates with a bouquet of flowers. He leaned them up against the stone pillar, jumped back in his van, reversed out onto the road and disappeared out of shot.
Flowers. For me. A smile spread across my face. Only one person would send flowers. I pulled my coat and boots on and trudged down to the main entrance. It wasn’t so cold that day, and it didn’t take that long to collect the flowers and bring them back to the lodge.
There was a card nestled in the spray of heather, thistles and white tulips.
Happy Burns Night. See you soon.
I smiled. It was very Oliver. To the point. Such a thoughtful gesture. Unnecessary but thoughtful.
I put the flowers in a vase and placed them on the table.
I did wonder why he didn’t give them to me himself, but maybe he thought that might be awkward. Whatever the reason, I didn’t care.
About an hour later, another alert came on my phone. It was Oliver coming through the main gates. Of course, he didn’t need me to let him in.
I heard his car crunching over the snow on the track.
I stole a sneaky look out of the window.
He pulled up in the parking space beside the gatehouse and climbed out.
I expected him to go straight inside, but he paused and looked over to the lodge for a moment.
I felt rather childish hiding behind the curtain, but I also didn’t want him to know I had been watching him.
After he went inside, I got myself ready.
I checked my reflection in the mirror, wondering whether I should have tied my hair up.
I had it loose over my shoulders with a gentle wave to it.
I nearly always had it tied back when I was working.
Was my lipstick too red? Should I tone it down? Was the slit in my dress too revealing?
If I had any reservations about my appearance, it was too late to do anything about it now. I sat down with my phone, scrolling aimlessly to try to keep my mind busy on anything else than the next few hours with Oliver.
LAKER COMMAND WHATSAPP GROUP CHAT
Aaron: Big night tonight.
Oliver: Burns Night. Yes.
Aaron: With Alex.
Oliver: With the local community. It’s a networking opportunity. Good for the development.
Aaron: Yeah. You said.
Dom: What are you wearing?
Oliver: What?
Dom: Genuine question.
Oliver: Suit.
Aaron: He’s wearing the navy one. [laughing emoji]
Oliver: I need to go.
Dom: He’s definitely wearing the navy one.
Oliver: I’m going
Aaron: Have a good evening.
Aaron: Networking
Dom: Very productive
Aaron: I don’t doubt
Oliver: [eye roll emoji]
Aaron: [laughing face emoji] He used an emoji. He’s nervous.
Dom: First emoji in living history
Dom: She must be something. I need to meet her.
Oliver: Fuck off both of you
Aaron: [eyes emoji]