Page 53 of The Black Trilogy

“Luke, have you seen the Spires contract?”

Shouldn’t that be his question?

“Try the filing tray.”

Before Luke could pick up his coffee, a developer poked his head in. “Do you know when Mike’s back from his holiday?”

“It’ll be on his calendar.”

And so it continued—a succession of simple queries that could easily be solved by the people asking them if they’d only think.

Why did Luke have to do everything around here?

Because he let his staff walk all over him, that was why. He reflected on his conversation with Ash about delegation. Would it really be that difficult? Maybe it was time to find out.

He picked up the phone to his PA. “Blanche, I need you to arrange a meeting.”

As Luke made himself a coffee at lunchtime, whispers followed him across the open-plan office.

“The control freak’s finally loosening his grip.”

“Some people will need to start pulling their weight in this place.”

“Is Luke ill? He looks a bit…different.”

Was that really what they thought of him? A control freak? The looks of shock on the managers’ faces when he’d started delegating tasks in the meeting earlier had been priceless. Yes, things would be changing in the office. But what did that woman mean, he looked different?

When he got back to his office, he peered at himself in the mirror he kept in his desk drawer. No, nothing out of the ordinary. Except, maybe.… He peered closer.… Was that a wrinkle? It was wasn’t it? Yes, adjustments to his lifestyle were definitely required.

At the end of the day, when he left on time for the first time in well, ever, it was with a tentative smile and no small amount of guilt. And when he arrived home in time for the opening credits of EastEnders, he didn’t know what to do with himself. Should he start watching soap operas? Did Ash like that kind of program?

The time he’d spent with her over the weekend had made him see things differently. She’d had so many knocks over the past few months, but still she’d stayed positive. And here he was with a seemingly perfect life—more money than he could ever spend, a huge house, his own successful company, girls falling at his feet—and let’s face it, he was miserable.

The steps taken today may have been small, but at least they were headed in the right direction. Closer to Hazelwood Farm and a certain new stable girl.

How long until the weekend? Four long, long days. Should he invite Ash over sooner? Maybe they could go out for dinner? Yesterday, his finance director had been raving about a London restaurant where every dish was colour-coded. Hideously expensive, no doubt, but Ash was worth it. Although for someone with so little money, she’d so far seemed strangely unaffected by his. Should he be pleased by that or worried?

She didn’t obsess over looks either—not his or hers. Never before had he met a woman who could take a shower in thirty minutes. One ex-girlfriend had refused to stay at his house at all until he had a bigger hot water tank installed—that was just one of many reasons she’d become an ex. But Ash? Even with no make-up, unfashionable glasses, and a shabby haircut, Luke had still needed a cold shower when she came downstairs in his T-shirt and boxers. Would the curves that outfit hinted at live up to their promise?

Luke fetched a beer from the fridge and went through to the den. With time on his hands, he picked up a pool cue. Did Ash play? If not, he’d teach her. Anything to see her cute behind bent over the pool table. His trousers tightened uncomfortably thinking about it. Should he call her? He wanted to call her?

He’d just potted a red when the front door slammed, and he flung the pool cue across the table then groaned. Only three people had a key—his housekeeper, his mother, and his sister. Nora had gone home for the day, and either of the other two was bad news.

For a moment, he considered escaping out the back door, but he’d left it too late. Tia walked in wearing a self-satisfied smirk.

“Why do you look so pleased?” he asked.

“The gold-digger from the stables is finally gone.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That crazy woman. I got her sacked.” Tia’s grin got wider, and she clapped her hands in glee.

“What crazy woman?”

“Ash, of course. How many other crazy women are there?

“Hold on. You got Ash sacked?”

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