The phone rang just as she was pouring water into the cafetiere. Her hand jerked and boiling water splashed her skin.
Phoebe howled in pain and frustration. This edginess was so unlike her. Whenever stress threatened to wipe her out, all she usually had to do was take a series of deep breaths and channel the serenity of her office. But today those yoga techniques, the acres of bare white walls and the ordered tranquillity of her surroundings weren’t working.
Scowling and rubbing her hand, Phoebe inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and forced herself to pick up the phone slowly and calmly. ‘Hello?’ Good. Pleasant and polite. That didn’t sound bad.
‘Phoebs, I have an Alex Gilbert in Reception.’
Phoebe dropped the phone and watched helplessly as it bounced twice and then skidded across the floor-boards. So much for inner calm.
What was he doing here? Had her fevered imagination actually conjured him up? What did he want?
‘Phoebs? Are you there?’
Oh, to be able to yell ‘no!’ and go and hide under her desk. But the opportunity to imitate her answer machine and pretend she was out had long gone. ‘Just a moment,’ she called and dashed across the floor to where her phone lay.
Phoebe picked up the handset. Then she straightened her suit and smoothed her hair and dredged up every ounce of self-possession she had. ‘Thanks, Lizzie,’ she said serenely. ‘You’d better tell him to come up.’
All she had to do was remain steady and in control and everything would be fine.
Alex glanced around Phoebe’s office and felt like fishing out his sunglasses. Apart from the woman in the severe black trouser suit perched against the edge of the sparkling glass desk and a few certificates and pictures hanging on the walls everything was blindingly white.
‘Good morning, Alex.’
She looked so composed with her poker straight hair and aloof air that for an insane moment he wanted to ruffle her up. ‘Good morning, Phoebe.’
‘Coffee?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Did you have a pleasant evening?’
‘Delightful.’ And busy. Once he’d reluctantly given in to Jo, he’d gone back to his apartment, had formulated a plan and had wasted no time in setting the wheels in motion.
‘I’m so glad.’ She gave him a chilly smile and moved round to the other side of her desk. She gestured to the chair on his side. ‘Please. Do sit down.’
‘Thank you.’ Alex folded himself onto the perspex chair and sat back.
‘How’s the jet lag?’
‘Fine.’
‘Shredded any cheques?’
Alex grinned. ‘Not so far. How are the handbags?’
‘Ruined beyond repair.’
‘Whose idea was it to put them so close to the lights?’
‘That would be mine.’
‘Clever.’
She flinched and her eyes flashed. Perhaps she wasn’t so composed after all, Alex thought with an odd sense of reassurance. After the heat and passion of last night, this morning’s ultra-cool Phoebe had been faintly unnerving.
‘I was led to believe that everything would be fine. The three risk assessments I carried out back me up. You can have a look at them if you’d like.’
Alex ignored her sarcasm. ‘Any idea what happened?’