Chapter 11: Robot

On Monday morning I shuffled into work with my tail between my legs, knowing that Zola wouldn't be my biggest fan and that I'd deserve whatever fire she hurled my way.

I arrived first but couldn't even use that to my advantage to get a head start: the password to the shared inbox had been changed, no doubt to keep me out of there during my suspension. So I sat alone, each minute waiting for Zola more anxiety-inducing than the last.

To distract myself, I scrolled through Twitter, pausing at a retweet from Gabby about a local music school appealing for donations. Gabby retweeted a lot of appeals thanks to her big-hearted nature, but this one in particular piqued my interest, and I clicked the link to find out more.

The school stood just a few blocks from our old flat, and I'd probably walked past hundreds of times without properly seeing it. As a charity, it relied on donations from the public to fund its operations, and the teachers all appeared to be volunteers, the instruments second-hand.

Yet despite that, rising rental costs and utility bills were haemorrhaging money, with most donations now going towards keeping the school open rather than investing in the children's education.

Thankful once again for having a job that more than paid my own bills, I clicked through to donate, another thought springing to my mind as I entered my payment details.

"Morning."

Zola's icy tone startled me, and my phone clattered to the table with a loud thud.

"Morning!" I pasted on a smile, hoping that would help defrost her, and then resorted to a more direct tactic when she refused to look at me. "I owe you an apology."

"You owe me a lot more than an apology." She set down her laptop opposite me, yanked open the lid, and dragged out her chair.

"Yes. I do. It was a total lapse of judgement, and I'm so sorry. Not only did I abuse my position here, but I also completely disrespected my relationship with you."

Her brown eyes flickered up to mine. "You did. Helen may have given you a second chance, but I'm still your direct manager and you're on very thin ice with me."

I nodded. "Of course. I understand."

"I'm extending your probation for another three months, and you're blocked from the inbox until I believe you can be trusted again. For the foreseeable future, your contributions will be verbal only. And they better be decent ones otherwise I might decide you're not worth the headache."

It was fair enough given what I'd done, but it still felt more like a punishment than damage control and made Helen's response seem positively lenient. Had Zola pushed to fire me? Probably.

"Could I start with a verbal contribution right away?" I asked.

When Zola's eyes narrowed, I realised my question had sounded like mocking rather than serious.

"It's just that I saw something on Twitter we could get involved in," I said, powering on to cover my tracks. "It would be a great promo opportunity. Potentially. Maybe. See what you think..."

I opened up the appeal again and slid my phone across the table towards her. She caught it, her expression not changing as she scrolled through the description. Regardless of how she felt about me, I knew Zola wouldn't turn down something worth doing out of spite. If she said no, there'd be a valid reason behind it.

"Okay," she said, sliding the phone back to me. "What were you thinking?"

Straightening up in my chair, I cleared my throat. "Well, there's an obvious connection between the school and Teddy: music. This is something that could easily be believed as close to his heart—helping kids have access to music and singing. We could either keep it very low-key with just a retweet and some of Teddy's words around it, or we could go there in person to drum up wider publicity while also positioning Teddy as a charitable guy who wants to keep music alive in the community."

"And your recommendation?"

"The second one. I know there are security complications, but it would have the greatest impact on multiple levels."

Zola nodded to agree, and a slow warmth fluttered through me at earning her approval. "Great. This is a good find. Well done. I'll start looking into logistics, but speaking of security complications... Mark Anderson has scheduled in a meeting with you this morning."

My heart sank, the warmth disappearing. Clearly he'd been serious about that, but I didn't want to be pulled away from Zola so soon—I had bridges to build with her. Equally, I wasn't in a position to argue, so I played it carefully.

"Is that okay with you?" I asked. "You're my manager, so I'm at your disposal—"

"I try not to get on the wrong side of him," she said. "You should take note of that."

"Right. Yes. I can meet with Mark, then come straight back."

"Sure. You do that."

The cold front had returned, and I wasn't sure whether an hour away from her would help or hinder my progress at repairing our relationship. I rightfully had a lot of grovelling to do.

As I set off along the corridor to Mark's office, I met Ed walking towards the room I'd just left, balancing a tray of takeaway coffees.

"You're going the wrong way. Has a week off made you forget where everything is?"

"Got a meeting with Mark. Is one of those for me?" I tipped my chin towards the tray.

He carefully eased out a cup and passed it to me. "Did you find out who sent the flowers?"

"No luck." I popped off the plastic lid to let the steam out. "I guess they want to remain anonymous."

"Shame. In a better stroke of luck, though, Hattie agreed to come to Escala on Saturday. Will Gabby and Charlotte be up for it?"

A burst of happiness bloomed deep in my chest. Finally, something positive.

"Definitely. I don't know if they had plans but I'm sure they'd re-arrange them if they did. Thanks, Ed."

His mouth twitched as he fired a quick wink at me. "What are friends for, eh?"

*

Mark probably said more words during our one-hour meeting than I'd heard him say in the whole time I'd known him. Then again, my lack of understanding had been a constant source of frustration for him, so it was no surprise that he'd take full advantage of educating me.

Yet despite him being very easy on the eye and intensely captivating in teacher mode, the level of concentration required on the material itself had fried my brain. I'd always viewed the security detail as oneunit, and to a certain extent they were with all members reporting into Mark,but the complexity of its structure amazed me. Inner cordons, Outer cordons, PersonalEscort Teams, Security Advance Teams, Residential Security Teams...

I'd joked about the excessiveness of Ed's security operation, but seeing first-hand just how much preparation went into every outing gave me a new appreciation for the work that his team did.

"I appreciate you pushing this back a week," I said.

"A suspension's a suspension," he replied. "Can't make exceptions."

"I get it. Can I ask a question?"

His teacher mode faltered ever so slightly. A real teacher would welcome questions, but Mark naturally had his reservations about what I might ask. Everything he'd explained so far had been top line; even without my record for deceit, he'd never have gone into confidential details that could have the potential to harm Ed if they got into the wrong hands. And I didn't want to know those, either—this level of information was more than enough.

"Sure." His shoulders tensed as he leaned back in his seat, wary eyes trained on me.

"It's personal."

He pressed his lips together, seeming even unhappier about that, but nodded anyway.

"Do you ever switch off or is this a full-time role in the most literal sense?"

"I have days off."

"Sure, but I've seen you called into work on your days off. I've seen you reply to my messages in the middle of the night—"

"I'm a light sleeper."

"I'm not criticising, Mark. I'm only trying to get a full picture and a proper appreciation for it. You're obviously great at what you do, but at what cost? Do you have a family? Husband or wife? Hobbies outside work?"

I'd rattled him and chipped away at some of that tough exterior. He ran a hand over the stubble lining his square jaw, emerald eyes cast off towards the window.

"I know you think I'm a robot, but I'm not."

"I don't think that. Not anymore, anyway. Robots don't lose their temper like you did with Ed."

Regret flashed across his face. He cleared his throat and leaned forwards, resting his forearms on the desk between us as he threaded his fingers together and pinned me with a piercing stare.

"They don't send apology flowers, either."

I jumped, his casual yet blunt confession catching me off-guard—which, knowing Mark, was probably a tactic to divert the conversation in a different direction. As much as he startled me, though, guilt crept down my spine: I'd ruled him out so swiftly, convinced it wouldn't have been him.

"It's an intense job, Sophia. Occasionally, we'll fuck up. But to do the job properly, you have to know when to leave emotion out of it and when to hold up your hands if you've made a mistake."

He clearly wasn't just talking about himself, so I nodded and shuffled in my chair.

"The flowers are beautiful. Thank you."

The ghost of a smile caressed his lips, gone almost as soon as it appeared. "You're welcome."

He'd extended an olive branch towards me, and I needed to give him something in return.

"I really do appreciate you taking the time to educate me," I said. "I know I come across as not caring or being deliberately difficult, but it's mostly down to ignorance."

Mark cocked an eyebrow. "Mostly. There are definitely times when you are being deliberately difficult or trying to push my buttons."

Warmth flooded my cheeks at him calling me out. He must have taken pity on me, though, because he leaned back in his chair again and changed the subject.

"Happy to be back at work?"

"Yeah. Not sure Zola's happy I'm back, though."

"She'll get over it. We all know Ed was the instigator, and you were just along for the ride."

Nope. Not walking into that trap.

"Speaking of Ed... That afternoon you took my phone to message him, did you see the previous messages?"

Mark's fingers drummed against the surface of the table, but his eyes remained steady on mine.

"Yes."

No bullshit. So very Mark.

"And yet you didn't say anything to Helen when she asked if I was involved."

His lips pressed together briefly before a small sigh escaped through them. "I shouldn't have taken your phone in the first place. And if I hadn't done that, I wouldn't have known you were meeting up outside work."

"Right. Sorry if that put you in an awkward position."

"I don't know the details, and I don't want to know them. Those messages were supposed to be private, and my frustration and fear led to me violating that. I never would've thrown it back in your face by outing you to Helen."

"Thanks." I shifted my gaze across to the window, worried that if I continued to look at him, he'd eventually be able to read my mind.

"Besides, let's say hypothetically you were involved with the cover-up... You'll know you got off lightly with just a suspension, and you'll be able to bear that in mind next time you and Helen don't see eye-to-eye."

Of course there was always a scheme at play when it came to Helen. If the suspension had been a tactical decision, though, rather than a lenient one, it didn't really matter. When it came down to it, I had been involved, and I'd deserved harsher consequences. A suspension was still a good outcome.

I left Mark's meeting with a renewed sense of positivity. Although I had no doubt that he'd revert back to his robotics on the day-to-day job, I felt like we'd made progress.

As I passed the communal kitchen, I spotted Ed stirring a mug of tea while staring off into space.

"I swear you spend more time sorting drinks than you do recording songs."

His eyes darted across to me, widening slightly. "Soph. Hey. Sorry, was a million miles away."

"I could see that. How was the interrogation?"

"Yeah, it was fine. Behaved myself at the weekend—that always helps."

I smiled and leaned my shoulder against the doorway, knowing I needed to get back to Zola pronto but unable to tear myself away from him. Now that we weren't pretending to hate each other, everything was so much easier. I could talk to him without needing a reason.

"How was the meeting with Mark?" he asked.

Sighing dreamily for dramatic effect, I tossed him a grin. "It was great. I think I'm a little bit in love with him."

He rolled his eyes as he tapped his spoon on the edge of the mug before dropping it into the dishwasher. Straightening up, he grabbed his drink and then ambled towards me, leaning against the opposite doorframe as he made an obvious point of raking his gaze down the length of my body and back up again.

My pulse quickened at the sudden intensity, and I tried to anticipate his next move so I could get ahead of it. When he took a step closer, I shrank back against the frame until the smooth wood dug into my shoulders.

His free hand curled around my waist, his lips grazing the shell of my ear, his warm breath floating over my throat.

"But does he make you come while you're in the bath?"

Heat rushed between my thighs as the memory surged to the forefront of my mind. My fingers found the hem of his shirt, the soft fabric crinkling against my palms, while the spicy scent of his cologne drifted from his neck and cloaked me in a suffocating intensity of all things Ed.

Yet just as I tilted my face to seek his lips, he squeezed my waist and pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek.

"Sorry..." His husky voice against my jaw sparked a tsunami of goose bumps along the surface of my skin. "You'll have to use your imagination."

And with that, the warmth of his body left mine as he slipped through the door and disappeared down the corridor. 

***

Thank you for reading :) xx

***

So I didn't keep you in suspense very long re: the flowers! But have Soph and Mark bonded in this chapter, or is she just seeing a different side to him...? 

I'm going away for a couple of weeks tomorrow but didn't want to delay this update, so it hasn't been edited. Hope it's okay -- let me know if there are any typos :) I'll try to upload another chapter while I'm away but thank you in advance for your patience if I don't manage to! On that note, though, any recommendations for places to see/visit in New York, Washington DC, or Philly?