Page 115 of The Secret

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“Morning, Joanie. How are you today?” I placed a purple box containing what I knew was her favorite chocolate brownie on the desk in front of her, and was met with a very arched eyebrow above a look dripping in suspicion.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing, it’s Monday and I wanted to show you my appreciation for your dedication and hard work.”

The arch disappeared but the suspicion didn’t. “Hmmm. The Milton paperwork is on your desk, you have a call with Briar Jepson at ten a.m. and PWC at eleven.”

My grin was wide, mostly because it had been on my face since I’d woken up and I didn’t seem to be able to get rid of it, which was probably why she was still staring at me like I’d escaped from somewhere. “Thanks, Joan. You’re the best.” I started to walk off, “Oh, Rafe will be by at some point this morning too.”

I swear I heard her groan as I opened my office door.

The screens were already flickering away, and, as always, the day’s papers were laid out on my desk. I had to force myself not to think about Kit; about her face as she squeezed the life out of my dick, as she kissed me with her soft, voluptuous mouth; in order to concentrate on what I needed to do.

I picked up the Wall Street Journal first, scanning the pages for anything which might affect the markets once the bell rang for the NYSE opening. Just as Bloomberg was reporting live on the screen in my office, all the papers were talking about a Global Technology Summit, attended by all the major tech firms; news coming out of there would be key for me over the next few days, especially as I tended to invest a lot in technology and crypto.

Joan walked in carrying coffee and what looked like a large, very green juice from Body by Luck, placing them in front of me. “Thank you. What’s that?” I pointed to the container of what could have quite easily been radioactive materials given the color.

“The gym sent it over for you. The note said they’re trying the new delivery service.”

My nose wrinkled. “Oh, thanks.”

She walked out without saying another word and closed the door. Pushing the juice to one side, I leaned back in my chair and watched the lines on my screens flicker aggressively as trading began.

I was three coffees in by the end of my second meeting. So far, the morning had been a resounding success; the markets had held strong, my predictions on tech and crypto accurate, and Jamie and I had signed a new client. The FTSE had closed up, paving the way for a good close on this side of the pond.

I had two private lines on my phone, which came straight through to me, bypassing Joan. Line One every member of my family, plus Kit, could dial; Line Two, which Penn had named The Bat Line, belonged only to him and Rafe. It was currently the latter which was flashing red and disturbing my daydream about what I’d be doing to Kit later.

I pressed the button down. “Happy Monday, sweetheart.”

“Ugh, how has the relationship smugness not worn off yet? It’s been a week. The pair of you were nauseating last night. I don’t think you heard a single thing I said.”

I snickered at Rafe’s standard Monday grumpiness, although this was excessive even for him. “Get out of the wrong side of bed did you? Or was it that you got out of a bed that didn’t have anyone else in it?”

He grunted and I knew I’d hit a sore point.

“Where’s Pennington? Why isn’t he on this call too? I feel like it shouldn’t just be me enjoying your delightful mood this morning.”

“He didn’t answer, but I’m keeping the redial on.”

“Keep dialing, he’s really missing out,” I chuckled.

“I just told you that’s what I was doing!” he snapped.

“Okay…” If he’d been on video conference he’d have seen me roll my eyes. “Want to tell me why you’re being extra delightful this morning? I thought you’d be happy Kit is coming to change the documents.”

“I am. You’re a walking law suit right now. I’d have preferred you’d kept your dick in your pants before anything happened, but I can’t have everything can I?”

“Seriously, Raferty, what’s the matter with you this morning?”

I reached for my juice, swirling the cup to mix up the sediment which had sunk to the bottom, resuming my position tipping in my chair, and I never heard his answer because the lid fell off, spilling it everywhere.

“FUCK!” I jumped up, dripping green on the floor until it looked like a Jackson Pollock knock off.

“What? What’s happened? Murray?”

“Fucking hell!” I put the now empty container on my desk. “I spilled my juice everywhere and now it looks like Kermit the Frog exploded in here. Sorry, bud, can I call you back? I need to change.”

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