A Very Corporate Affair Book 2 (The Corporate Series) (5 page)

 
              We ate outside on the terrace. It was a beautiful summer evening, one of those where the river shimmered, and the air hung heavy and still. After the madness of my week, it was like an oasis of calm. The dogs sat our feet, playing with rawhide bones, and Ivan put Adele on the music system.

 
              He told me stories of growing up in Moscow, tales of such hardship and destitution that my heart clenched for him. He described the arduous journey to England, and the difficulties he had when he got here. It felt as though he was baring himself to me, showing me the man inside the pretty packaging, and asking me to understand him.

 
              In turn, I told him about growing up on the estate, of not fitting in, and of my desperate desire to escape. I told him my fears of never being good enough, of being poor, and the lengths I went to, in order to cover up my lack of sophistication.

 
              "Let me hold you, beautiful girl," he said, holding his arms out for me. I sank into his warm embrace, and breathed in his lovely scent. He felt solid and strong, as if he could keep me safe forever. He pulled me onto his lap, and just held me, one hand lightly caressing my spine, as we sat in a strange embrace.

 
              "Please let me kiss you," he whispered, pulling back from me slightly so he could look at me. I gazed into his sapphire eyes for a moment, before closing mine, and leaning forward to gently graze his soft, full lips with mine.

 
              Our kisses were light and soft at first, before growing firmer and deeper. His tongue pushed into my mouth to meet mine, shyly at first, growing bolder, until he was claiming full control of my mouth, kissing me hard, as his tongue stroked mine. His hands roamed over my shoulders, and down my spine, sending a delicious shiver right through my body which ended in my groin.

 
              "Are you cold baby?" He asked. I shook my head, I was practically melted in a mush of hormones, and although making out felt rather adolescent, I was enjoying the slowness of it. I went back in for more kisses.   

  
              Eventually I pulled away, "I need to go home." 

  
              "Please stay, I really need to make love to you tonight."

  
              "I can't, not tonight. Another night." I didn't want to spell out that it was time of the month.

  
              "Why not?" He looked concerned. "Don't you want to?"

  
              "Oh yes, I want to. By Saturday, all will be fine."

  
              He twigged, " oh ok, I see. Saturday it is then. I'll pick you up at six, and I honestly can't wait." He kissed me again, a deep, needy kiss, before Roger took me, and all my bags home.

                I was in the office bright and early the following morning, due to having to forego my swim. I fired up my screen to check my emails, and make a start on my paperwork. An email from Ivan popped into my inbox. Smiling, I opened it.

From: Ivan Porenski

To: Elle Reynolds

2nd June 2013

Subject: Is it Saturday yet?

Elle,

I'm sure it's Saturday today. My secretary tells me it's only Thursday. Is she lying?

Am about to combust

Ivan xx

I replied quickly
.

From: Elle Reynolds

To: Ivan Porenski

2nd June 2013

Subject: re
Is it Saturday yet?

Ivan

It's only 8 hours since I last saw you. Premature anticipation a problem for you? ;)

Elle x

I pressed send, and carried on replying to Paul Lassiter about his umbrella company. My inbox pinged again.

From: Ivan Porenski

To: Elle Reynolds

2nd June 2013

Subject: re
re Is it Saturday yet?

Elle

Anticipation, premature or otherwise, is always the best bit. ;)

Ivan xx

I replied quickly.

From: Elle Reynolds

To: Ivan Porenski

2nd June 2013

Subject: re re re Is it Saturday yet?

Ivan

I'm sincerely hoping the eventual conclusion will be far better than the anticipation. ;) now, I need to get on with my work. I have some extremely demanding clients to keep happy.

Elle xx

Twenty seconds later, my inbox pinged again

From: Ivan Porenski

To: Elle Reynolds

2nd June 2013

Subject: re
re re re Is it Saturday yet?

Elle

Nobody demanding as much as me I hope?

Ivan xx

                I was too wrapped up in getting the information Paul required, sent to him, to reply to Ivan straightaway. I had quite literally just pressed 'send' when my phone rang. It was Ivan. "Hello beautiful, you didn't reply to my last email?"

 
              "I was just about to. I was just doing a work one, I can truthfully say that you are definitely my most demanding client."

 
              "But am I your favourite client?"

 
              "You most certainly are."

 
              "I don't want to wait till Saturday to see you."

  
              "I have a full schedule till then. Plus, you know, it's not a good time."

  
              "I know. Well have a good day, and call me if you have some spare time."

  
              "Will do. Speak to you later."

 
              I hugged myself with glee. Only two days to go. Kissing last night seemed to have broken my apprehension about getting physical with him. I'd even had a spin with my trusty B.O.B to ease some of the sexual tension last night so I'd been able get off to sleep. I was wearing one of my new outfits, and carrying my new

Prada bag.
Life really did feel pretty good.

  
              I spent most of the morning with Mr Carey, going through the governance issues we were tackling for Oscar. I expressed my concerns about the LIBOR reporting, and he suggested daily website posting of the rate they calculated, so that the process was seen to be transparent. I called Oscar, and suggested it.

 
              "Easy enough to do. I do wonder why you’re worrying about it though. It's never even been mentioned in the press. I doubt anyone even knows what it is. If it makes you happier though, we'll start it today."

 
              "There's a lot of anti-bank sentiment around, so I wouldn't be surprised if it came under scrutiny at some point. As long as you're seen to be transparent, it should head off problems further down the line." We went on to discuss the auditors, and the banking code changes that were coming into force. Oscar was impressed with Mr Carey's knowledge of audit protocols, and was happy to meet with him the following week to finalise the changeover to our company.

 
              The day flew by in a flurry of meetings, culminating in taking a client out for dinner. She was the owner of a publishing company, and was negotiating the purchase of a rival. It was a different experience dealing with a woman, and I liked her enormously. She was meeting the other party the following Tuesday, and we agreed that I would attend with her. Thankfully, it wasn't a late finish, and I was able to get home by 9.30.

 
              The flat felt empty without James, and the only item in the fridge was milk that I'd picked up on my way home from work. I sat in bed, with my laptop open, and googled Ivan. I read his Wikipedia page, and marvelled at the number of companies he controlled. Before I logged off, I clicked on images, to see page upon page of his beautiful face. I also saw the same woman in a lot of the pictures. She was tall, dark haired, and looked Slavic. Clicking on the links, I found out her name was Dascha Meranov, and was the daughter of another Oligarch. There were pictures of the two of them together from 2009 right through to the end of 2012. I studied her face before switching off the laptop, and dozing off.

 
              I was grateful that Friday passed in a blur of busyness, and before I knew it, I was ensconced in Lauren's bar with my workmates, sipping a large glass of cold white wine. "It's been a hell of a week for you, Elle," said Peter, "you must be exhausted. Any plans for the weekend?"

 
              "Out Saturday night to a ball, so tomorrow afternoon I have a hair appointment. That's about it. Nothing planned for Sunday, although I have a bit of paperwork to catch up on. What about you?"

 
              "My girlfriends parents are coming to stay," he said, pulling a face, "is Golding taking you?"

 
              "No, I'm accompanying Ivan. He said it would be good for networking. I'm not seeing Oscar anymore."

 
              "But he instructed us?"

 
              "Yes. That was after I stopped seeing him though."

 
              "Did he instruct us so that he could hang around you?"
God you're sharp Peter.

 
              "There's always that possibility."

 
              "So even when you dump them, they still hang around like devoted puppies?" I just smiled. "Jesus Elle, you're like Pearson Hardwick's secret weapon. What with Paul Lassiter making moon eyes too, we'll be roping off an area so they can form a queue soon."

 
              "What's Paul Lassiter got to do with anything?" I frowned.

 
              "There are three billionaires in the tower, Golding, Ivan, and Paul Lassiter, and all three of them are going stupid over you. Plus of course, all three are now Pearson Hardwick clients. Carey has been trying for years to get them signed up, and yet, even when you spit them out, they sign on the dotted line just to get to sniff your skirt. It's impressive."

 
              "Has it occurred to you that they might actually think I'm good at my job? I saved Ivan a shitload of money on two occasions, and I wasn't even aware who Paul was. I don't think it's all about my sex appeal, it could well be my little brain too." I was getting annoyed. Peter was insinuating that I was getting new clients by being female and pretty. "The proof will be whether I can keep these clients happy. If it was just my pretty face, they'll move on to a better lawyer pretty sharpish. None of these people are fools Peter, and you're doing them a disservice assuming that they are."

 
              "Oh, don't get me wrong, I don't think they're fools, not for one moment, I'm just saying that you managed to do what eluded Carey for years, and you made it look effortless. Whatever it is you've got, we need to clone it."

 
              "Maybe the firm should recruit more female lawyers?"

 
              Peter pulled a face, "they're normally more hassle than they're worth. I think we had a couple over the years, but they don't like the workload, or the long hours. They were never at their desks by 7.30 like you, nor did they land any clients. I don't think it's a female thing, although it doesn't hurt to have good looking people. Maybe it's a charisma thing." With that, he went off to get another drink.

 
              I left the bar at ten, and was surprised to see Roger waiting patiently outside. "Mr Porenski asked that I see you home safely," he said, holding open the car door.
How did he know I was here?

 
              "Thanks Roger. Did you track my phone to find me?" Roger didn't answer, just pinked up slightly. I decided I needed to have words with Ivan about privacy, before sliding gratefully into the soft seat. My feet were aching  from my new shoes, and I was shattered.

 
              Back at the flat, I microwaved my meal for one, and switched on the telly. I flicked mindlessly through the channels, wondering what James was up to. I decided to give him a call.

 
              "Elle! It's great to hear from you. How's everything?"

 
              "Boring without you. How are they treating you out there?"

 
              "Pretty good really. I have a nice apartment, and the team are ok. We're making good progress, although I can't wait to get home and work by myself again. I'd forgotten how much I hate office politics."

 
              I laughed, "you wanna get a taste of mine sometime. Even the men are little divas at my place at times. Did you look at holidays?"

 
              "Yep, I've booked two weeks in Spain. Nice hotel, on the beach, quite a quiet place. I keep meaning to email you the link so you can have a look. We both need some downtime by the sounds of it."

 
              "Great. I honestly can't wait. I've not felt sand between my toes for years. Oh, by the way, did you shave your beard off?" The line went quiet, "James, are you still there?"

 
              "Yes, I'm still here.....yes, I got rid of it."

 
              "Oh take a photo and send it to me."

 
              "Not yet. I'm still getting used to it. Soon."

 
              "Okay. I promise I won't laugh or anything."

 
              "I have no doubt you won't. I need to get on now, someone's waiting for me outside. Great to speak to you. See you soon yeah?"

 
              "Yeah, you too. Bye." I cut the call, and switched the TV off, before flopping into bed. Tomorrow was the big day.

 
              I did my usual workout on Saturday morning, before catching the eight o'clock yoga class. I was showered, dressed and done by half ten. I had an eleven o'clock doctor’s appointment to get to, as I had decided to get a contraceptive shot. The last thing I wanted was a pregnancy to deal with, so it seemed like the best option. On my way back from the doctors, I even managed to stop off at the supermarket and stock up on food. I unpacked the shopping, and fixed a sandwich for lunch. My hair appointment was booked for three, so I had plenty of time to exfoliate, and apply a light tan first, as I wouldn't be able to shower again once my hair was done. Ivan had already text me to say he'd be picking me up at six thirty, as the event started at seven, and we had to get over to the West End.

 
              I sat at the island, and flicked through a hair magazine as I ate my lunch. I had decided on the red dress, and as it wasn't strapless, was trying to decide whether to wear my hair up or down. I took a quick photo of the dress on its hanger to show the stylist, and get his advice. Idly, I wondered if the salon did makeup as well. My musings were interrupted by my phone chirping as a text arrived. It was Ivan enquiring whether I had decided which dress I was wearing. I quickly replied that I'd be wearing the red one. He didn't respond, which puzzled me slightly.