Page 14 of How to Get Even

She stared at him in a way that made him wonder if they taught classes to society women on how to make you feel inadequate. She put the lid back on one of the four take-out coffee cups in a carry tray on the counter, nodded once to acknowledge his apology and returned that startling grey gaze back on him.

The weight of that gaze was unfamiliar. Heavier than it should have been, assessing and perhaps secretive even. But then in a heartbeat everything changed.

‘Of course. You couldn’t have known,’ she offered with a smile and a kindness that he probably didn’t deserve but wanted to take with both hands.

She shrugged as if dismissing the matter and held out her hand to shake.

‘I’m Bella and I’m really looking forward to working with you.’

She held his gaze as he took her hand in a shake.

‘Chase Miller,’ he said by way of finally introducing himself, trying to ignore the unaccountable feeling he got when they touched. ‘It’s nice to meet you.’

She nodded, that little curve to the edge of her lips suggesting… warmth? No, that didn’t quite feel right. It was harder than that. More knowing.Wry.

She picked up the cardboard tray of coffees and waited for him. ‘Shall we?’ she asked, head gesturing to the meeting.

‘Yes,’ he said, nodding more firmly than necessary.

He was pretty sure that he’d escaped a little less scathed than he should be, but he’d take it. Because professionally he needed something to go his way. He’d just about managed to surf the rumours surrounding the change in direction of his career – with Tej’s help at least. And he was pretty sure that once news of the sudden departure of the last comms director got out, it wouldn’t help him one bit. What he needed now was smooth sailing, all the way to the opening. And whether he liked it or not, he was going to need Bella Carmichael on side to do it.

He led her back to his office and they settled in around the coffee table where Maurice and Ali were already sat, reaching for the coffee cups in front of them. Bella pushed a paper cup with a lid towards him.

‘That’s okay, I like my coffee a particular way,’ he dismissed before she could get offended. Ormoreoffended at least.

Her smile pulled at a lip a dusky shade of rose.

‘I know,’ she said simply and pushed the cup towards him again.

He eyed it suspiciously. He was still deeply attached to his morning coffeeandthe very specific amount of sugar required to keep himcompos mentisat this point in the day.

He picked it up, all eyes on him, and hoped that the scent of the coffee would give him advance warning of any alien flavours, lack thereof,or– given the first impression he’d made on the new comms director – poison.

Smelling nothing – while noting that there were a good number of poisons that had no scent whatsoever – he clenched his jaw before taking the smallest possible sip, without being seen to be rude.

He tried to keep the pleasant surprise from his features as he welcomed the rush of coffee that was, as his father used to say, strong enough to fight back. No milk, obscene quantities of sugar and caffeine. A lot of caffeine.

‘Thank you,’ he said, somewhat bemused.

‘You’re welcome. Maurice was kind enough to advise me on your coffee preference.’

Maurice accepted the credit, but Chase’s gaze returned to Bella. A distant part of his brain – the one he couldn’t switch off, no matter how useless it was – categorised the parts of her features that drew his attention. She was bordering on conventionally beautiful – which for an artist was about as repellent as you could possibly get. But…

And it was the ‘but’ that kept him coming back. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on…

Maurice cleared his throat and Chase, realising he was staring, remembered where he was.

Shit. Get it together, dude.

Leaning back in his chair, he pulled out the pad he’d been making his notes on.

‘First order of business is to welcome the new comms director. Bella Carmichael, this is Maurice Bamboux our registrar and archivist, responsible for everything that happens inside the gallery as well as the archives and catalogues. Alison Burberry, our receptionist and general gallery assistant. And later on in the week you’ll meet Ye-Joon, our intern, who handles the pieces and manages the storage in the basement level below the gallery on the ground floor,’ he concluded.

‘Thank you,’ she said with a beauty-queen-level smile. ‘And thank you for giving me this opportunity. I know that my…history,’ she said, her head cocked to one side, ‘might give the impression that I… mmm, how should I put this, that I’m a bit of a spoiled socialite.’

Chase felt his cheeks flush.

‘But I have every confidence that I will be an asset to the team, once I’ve got fully up to speed. And I can assure you that I want nothing less than a roaring success to the opening of the Nayak New York.’

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