Abbey put a finger over her lips and gingerly picked
up the phone and pressed it to her ear.
‘Alpha Magazine,’ she said, putting on her
most sultry voice to the poor wrong number on the other end, while Becky
giggled in the background. ‘To whom may
I connect you to?’
After a pause, in which Abbey was sure the caller had
realised his mistake and hung up, a deep familiar voice drawled, ‘This is Flynn
Granger for Abbey Parrish.’
Abbey slammed her hand over the mouthpiece. It’s Flynn,
she mouthed and Becky slapped her own hand over her mouth, before removing it
and flapping it at Abbey and mouthing back, Talk
Abbey banged the phone on the desk a couple of times.
‘What are you doing?’ Becky whispered, her eyes round
‘Making it sound like I’m connecting him,’ Abbey said,
her voice sounding as panicked as she felt.
Why had she allowed Becky to ply her with Bacardi? Or make her wear such a tight skirt instead
of her favoured loose fisherman pants?
Or choose her as a best friend in ninth grade and make her play hooky
from high school to drool over Brad Pitt at the movies? Or –
A faraway voice called out, ‘Hello?’ and Abbey
realised it was coming from the other end of the phone.
She cleared her throat, pressed the phone back to her
ear, and said with as much finesse as she could muster, ‘Abbey Parrish speaking.’
‘Abbey, it’s Flynn Granger.’
‘Flynn,’ she said with great verve as though they were
long lost friends. Becky snorted with
laughter and Abbey had to look away.
‘Whoever you’ve hired as your receptionist, she’s a
keeper,’ he said. ‘Rousing telephone
gets up and running she’ll be here through it all. You can count on it,’ she said, shushing
Becky with a madly flapping hand.
considering she’s working still at nine
o’clock at night. Not easy
to find such dedicated help nowadays.’
‘Right,’ Abbey said, now hitting her forehead over and
over with the palm of her hand. ‘How
right you are. What can I do for you,
‘I’m interested,’ he said, and Abbey’s head slapping
and heart stopped as one. She literally
had to thump her ribs to get the latter back up and running again.
‘Interested?’ she repeated, nodding furiously at Becky
who was now kneeling in the middle of the room with her hands clasped in
Flynn laughed, an intimate rumble that tickled at
Abbey’s ear, sending a shiver all down her left side. ‘I’m keen on your proposal,’ he said. ‘Though I do have some follow up questions.’
‘Okay, of course you do. That’s very sensible of you,’ Abbey said, her
mind spinning that this was actually happening.
The eleven cents a minute she was paying on her Southbank offices
suddenly didn’t feel like such a tight squeeze.
Heck she might even turn on a desk lamp before the night was out!