James

“Morning, Kirstie.”

The concierge smiles from her desk as we enter and cross the lobby. “Good morning, Mr Alexanders. Morning Charlotte.” Then she riffles through a stack on her in-tray. “Oh, Charlotte. Some mail for you. I had to sign for this one.” She offers a small padded envelope, then, clearing her throat, “Um, James…”

“I’ve not forgotten my promise, Kirstie. I’m seeing Ryan later this week on-site. I’ll make a point of allowing extra time for a chat with him.”

“Thank you.” She bobs her head, the pearl on her velvet choker bobbing with her.

Charlotte looks curiously but briefly, her attention taken by the packet. She receives very little mail.

And there’s only so many people who might send her a package…

My antennae twitching, “Why don’t we go up to my office,” I say. “Have a coffee together before we start the working day. You can open it there…”

… In privacy…

She nods, going into silent running. As we ride the elevator, she crosses her arms, then uncrosses them, then recrosses them, all the while clutching the packet.

As the doors swish open, Francis looks up from her desk. “Coffee for two, please, Francis.” And as I wave Charlotte into my office I turn back to the receptionist and hold an invisible telephone receiver to my ear, then draw a finger across my neck in a cut-your-own-throat gesture, mouthing at her silently: “Michael.”

She nods understanding and heads for her phone.

Inside the office I prise the envelope from Charlotte’s fingers, placing to one side. Then taking her by the shoulders, I turn her to face me. “I’m tempted to take it from you, open it for you and only tell you what is inside after I’ve checked it for myself. But I don’t think that would be right. However…” I lay a fingertip on her lips… “I will ask that, whatever is in there, you remember our conversation of a few days ago. Alright?”

She’s blinking too quickly. Her movements are jerky, but, “Yes, Master.”

starts to open it but pauses as we are interrupted by Francis tapping at the door,

behind her, Charlotte tugs at the flap, trying to peel it open, fighting heavy-weight gum

plastic bubbles bursting with small spiked

turns it over onto my desk. A small plastic zip-bag slides

out, holding it up to the light where it spins, glimmering. It’s only perhaps an inch wide, but it’s beautifully made

But I wait.

in two; a short, typed

Please come to

himself, of course,” she

wouldn’t. What do you

clasp of the necklace. “Would

side, I fasten the chain behind her neck,

tap, the door opens; Michael. His head swivels between Charlotte’s face, the letter in her hand and my face, then, as I eye-point him down, to the butterfly resting below

is seeing and silently I pass him the note. He reads it, then warily, “Do you want to

the butterfly, sucks in her lips.

*****

to keep. And

with Michael at the club years ago. She’s a lovely girl and deserves the best in life. And as a sub, she deserves the best

well-meaning, is a formula

fold away plans and blueprints provided by Ryan. “That’s all fine. I’m very happy with the schematics from the technical side.

a folder. “I just wanted to be

Efficient as ever…

sit down again. “Just give

too, waiting calmly as I

Well within budget…

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