“I’ve got something I want to run past you, well, tell you,” I stammered, my heart feeling like it was in my throat, coughing a couple of times.
“Spit it out, Royce, not like you to stammer over your words.” Her eyes rolled so far in the back of her head I thought they would get stuck.
“Fuck it.” I groaned, pushing my hand through my hair then rubbing them on my thighs before taking a deep breath. “I’m going to ask Darcey to marry me.” My eyes went wide as I saw her expression.
“You’re what?” A grin so big spread across her pretty face.
“Yup.” I let out a sigh of relief.
“Have you got the ring?” she asked, jumping up and down in her seat like an excited child.
“Nah, going to have a look while I’m up here. Shame you’ve got to work…” my voice trailed off.
“If you can hang about until twelve, I can come on my lunch break,” she said desperately, her hands pushed together in a prayer.
“Of course I will. Don’t know what the fuck I will do with myself, but I’ll wait. Was going to call lieutenant Tyrell tonight to see how Chase was, but I’ll do it whilst I’m waiting. Has Zara or Tanner heard anything?” I asked, trying to push down the creeping anxiety that was coming over me.
“They had a call on Saturday night, just saying he is making progress, but not much. Keeps asking for you.” Her eyes darted up to mine, I could see the hurt in them. “He just wants you,” she mumbled.
“Fuck, why hasn’t Tyrell called me? The prick.” I groaned, throwing my head back in frustration.
“He probably would have at some point this week,” she said, trying to calm me down.
“I’ll call him, the fucker. Fuck.” I banged my fist on the train panel under the window, gaining looks from the other passengers.
“Calm down,” Robyn said softly, placing her hands on my knees. “Deep breaths.” She smiled at me. I took a deep breath through my nose and out my mouth like I was shown in therapy.
“I am, thank you.” My voice sounding grateful, “It’s just a shambles. He knows that one little bit of contact with a loved one can change your whole mindset. Fuck calling him, I’ll go down there tomorrow. If he won’t let me in, I’ll bulldoze him out the way,” I growled, my temper rising again.
“Breathe, Royce, you have an interview in less than twenty minutes. Don’t fuck this up for yourself.”
Her smart words pulled me from my anger haze. She was right, I couldn’t afford to fuck this up.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.
“Hey, don’t apologise, I’m angry too. But not angry enough to throw my job away. He will be home, eventually.” She sighed, wiping a stray tear. “He will,” she said in a whisper as she patted me on the leg.
We pulled up at our station, jumping out and into the hustle and bustle of London. I followed her like a lost dog, I didn’t have a clue where I was.
After a short walk from the train station, we stopped outside a tall glass building. I shielded my eyes from the sunshine as I looked up.
“Here we are, Coles Enterprise.” She beamed, holding her arms out.
“Fuck,” I muttered, instantly feeling anxious again.
“You’re gonna smash it.”
“I hope so, have a good day. Thanks for this, Robyn, thanks for calming me down. See you at twelve.” I smiled at her as she pushed herself through the revolving doors and waved at me. I took a deep breath, then followed behind her.
I took a moment, looking around at this extravagant building, imagining this being mine. To have built this empire. What an achievement.
I walked up towards the front desk, a young dark-haired girl sat there.
“Good morning.” I smiled, her eyes looked me up and down. “I’m here to see Carter Cole, it’s Conor Royce.”
“Let me give his receptionist a call, let them know you are here,” she said, her eyes darting down to the phone, her face flushed.
I stepped back, giving her some privacy whilst she made her call. When she put the phone down, I moved back towards her desk. “Go down the hall to the lifts, fifteenth floor, turn left as you exit the lift.” She smiled at me, handing a visitor pass to me and a guest book to sign in. I took the pen from her, filling my details in before sliding the book back across to her.
“Not a problem, thank you for your help.” I beamed at her as I made my way towards the elevator, pushing the button and waiting. My heart was pounding in my chest. I felt so nervous.
I stepped into the elevator, taking some deep breaths as I started the climb towards the fifteenth floor. Once the elevator pinged, the doors springing open, I took the left like the receptionist told me, my eyes looking at my surroundings.
I saw a young male receptionist standing up to greet me. “Mr Royce, Mr Cole is expecting you. Straight through the glass door in front of you. Can I get you a glass of water? Coffee? he asked.
“No thank you,” I muttered, fiddling with the lanyard that was round my neck as I pushed the heavy, glass door open. I saw a young man, must be in his thirties, sitting at a white, high-gloss desk with a glass top, looking up from his black leather chair. He had mousy hair, blinding sage eyes and freckles across his nose. His back drop was the city line of London, it was stunning.
“Mr Royce,” he said softly, standing as he walked towards me, extending his left hand to shake mine. I couldn’t help but notice his wedding band, I wanted that so bad.
“Mr Cole,” I said with some assertiveness to my voice.
“Please, call me Carter.” He smiled at me before taking a seat back behind his desk. He held his hand out for me to sit in the chair opposite him. I undid my suit jacket, taking it off and hanging it on the back of my chair. My eyes wandered over his desk when I saw a photo of a beautiful woman and two children. He had a beautiful family.
“I like your tattoo’s. Always fancied some myself, but not sure if I am quite brave enough to go through with it.” Carter laughed.
“Thank you, taken me five years to get this many.” I smiled at him, shuffling in my seat, his eyes focussing on my hand tattoos.
It took me a moment to notice the two guys sitting on the sofa to the right of me. One looked slightly older than Carter, maybe late thirties. Dirty blonde hair, stubble and big built. Solid.
The other had black hair with a black trimmed beard. Both intimidating. My eyes quickly flicked back to Carter.
“You know Robyn?” he asked as he took a pen into his hands, rolling it in his fingers.
“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend’s best friend.” I nodded, linking my fingers together to save me biting them.
“How long did you serve for? Thank you for your service by the way. Incredible job you did.” Carter’s voice was compassionate.
“Thank you, sir, just over four years.”
“Why did you leave? I didn’t think you could?” His eyes bored into mine, he intimidated me, and I wasn’t easily intimidated.
“Injury, sir, plus post-traumatic stress disorder,” I said quietly, realising this was the first time I had said the words out loud, and I smiled from the inside at this next step I had been able to take.
“I’m sorry to hear that. How are you doing now?” he asked, generally concerned, and I instantly felt better than I did a minute ago.