Choosing Her Lover

Chapter 33



“I spoke with Kirstie a few days ago. She didn’t want to talk to me, gave me a real piece of her mind....” James side-glances me
then returns his attention to Ben. “She told me that, well, all of you are volunteers in what you’re doing and that’s it’s really none
of my business and.... that I should apologise to you.”
James pauses, digesting his words. “It’s not me who needs the apology, Ben. I can understand why you felt the need to defend
your brother. But Charlotte is a different matter.”
“I know, I know. Is she here? I’ll talk to her while you’re present if you would prefer that. I’m guessing that you don’t want to leave
me alone in her company...”
“You are quite correct there,” says James. “Kirstie, can you call Charlotte, please. I believe you will find she is in her own office,
extension 4528.”
Back at my desk, I tap the number, “Um, Charlotte, it’s Kirstie here from the front desk.”
“Yes, Kirstie. What is it?”
“I’m in the small conference room by the lobby with James and Ben Summerford. James is asking if you could join them.”
There is a long pause, then, “I’ll be there shortly.”
Five minutes later, Charlotte walks in, her expression unreadable.... no....
What is that expression?
Certainly, she’s not afraid of Ben. Quite the contrary, I think she would launch herself at him given the freedom to do so, but
James points her to a chair, backing it up with a brusque nod.
Definitely an order, not a request....
Dom and Sub?
She looks rebellious but obeys.
James, very noticeably, moves to stand, not exactly between Ben and Charlotte, but very close to it. Then he simply waits, arms
folded, looking at first at Ben, then at the floor.

Ben is all but stammering. “I wanted to apologise, Charlotte. I didn’t understand. I’ll admit that really, I still don’t. I thought you
were.... betraying my brother. It’s obvious that you’re not. If Mike’s happy, then it’s not for me to interfere.”
Charlotte’s expression relaxes a little. She still looks unimpressed, but nods; a short staccato movement. “Apology accepted,
Ben,” she says, then she stands and stalks out of the room.
“Anything else?” asks James.
“No, I’ve said what I came to say.” He turns to me. “I hope that when tempers have cooled, we might be friends again.”
“Ben....” I start.
He holds up his hands. “It’s alright, Kirstie. I mean just that; friends. It would never work with you and me.... and besides, Erin’s
very sweet; a real old-fashioned girl.”
My jaw drops. “Erin?”
He grins and rises to leave.
As he opens the door, “Ben....” I call after him.
“Yes?”
“If you ever raise a hand to Erin, I’ll have you for horse-meat.”
His face falls. He nods a curt acknowledgement and leaves.
Sighing, I turn to face my Director. “So, how much trouble am I in now?”
But James’ expression is genial, almost amused. “None. I appreciate your telling Ben your mind. That can’t have been an easy
conversation.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
He leans back against the conference table, perching on the edge. “Relax, Kirstie. I’m not going to bite, and I really am grateful
for what you did with Ben. It will make my life a lot easier with both Charlotte and Michael.”
“You’re welcome, Sir.”

“I’ll try to find an appropriate way of using your talents.”
“Sir?”
“Don’t worry,” his smile is wicked, “I’m just exercising my appreciation of subs who aren’t really subs.”
Did he really say that?
“Sorry?”
“As you may have gathered, ‘submissive’ is not exactly a part of Charlotte’s repertoire either. The only time she is really a Sub is
with me. I suspect you fall into the same category....”
*****
My phone buzzes. “Kirstie. If you have a minute, could you come up, please. Mr Alexanders wants to see you.”
“I can’t leave the desk right now, Francis. There’s no-one else here.”
“I’ll get someone sent down. You just come upstairs. He’s waiting.”
Now what? Am I in trouble after all?
On the directors’ level, I tap at the door.
“Come.”
In his office, James is seated by the coffee table on a low couch. Sprawled might be a better word. Resting back, he is
outstretched, feet up on the table, legs crossed at the ankles, hands linked behind his head.
As I enter the room, he is staring into space, looking thoughtful, but then looks my way, smiles and swings his legs back down to
the carpet.
“Thank you for coming, Kirstie....”
As if there were a choice....
“.... Come in. Sit down.” He waves me to the seat opposite him. “Coffee?”

“Um, yes, thanks.”
“How do you like it?”
“White, no sugar please.”
The Technical Director of Haswell Corporation is serving me coffee?
Guess I’m not in any kind of trouble then....
He passes me a coffee and seats himself once more on the settee with his own, strong and black I notice, but he doesn’t drink. If
anything, swiping a hand through his hair, he seems embarrassed.
However, in this atmosphere, much more relaxed than the first time he called me into his office, I can study him.
People-watching again?
Marcie was right in one respect; for all his striking looks and character, he is not a young man. His hair, while dark, is silvering,
and fine lines radiate out from the corners of his eyes. However, his imposing personality overrides all of that, his expression
sharp, his observation acute.
“I wanted to sound you out about something, Kirstie.” he begins. “If this sounds odd, then please bear with me because there are
things which you don’t know about, quite simply because they are not public knowledge and you have not known us for very
long.”
Where’s this going?


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