Cross the Line
Part Five

Chapter 5

Sitting across the cafe table from him, Naomi felt awkward. She’d really judged this man, based on the rantings of someone who clearly wasn’t of sane mind. Maisy. Beautiful, funny, Maisy had written pages of fantasies about Conor. She’d had some sort of infatuation for him, and it had seemed to be her life’s work to snare him. Conor, Simon had told her was completely oblivious to it, but he didn’t object to Naomi sharing such personal details with his friend, if it helped her to clear the air. He knew that they’d got off to a dodgy start, and now he felt obligated to help ease that rift.

Naomi had been devastated after reading the journals, now she felt that she knew so little about her best friend. She also realised that like Simon’s parents she’d been guilty of ignoring the blatant facts of Maisy’s decline, so she had guilt two fold, towards Conor, but also to her departed friend. Looking back she attributed erratic behaviour to wild teenage ways, but it was much more than that, and somewhere deep down she’d known that all the long.

Coffee and a sandwich wasn’t as inspiring as it could be, but she’d missed breakfast, and anything would’ve felt good now that she was feeling a little more human. Conor was sat opposite, not pressuring her, but by the look on his face, he was enjoying just looking at the huge double cheeseburger that had just been laid in front of him.

                “Do you know how I know Simon?”  She finally ventured, he paused the huge burger a hair’s breadth from his mouth.

Placing it back on his plate, he rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers, “I presumed that it was through law, you said you knew him when you were a student.”

She shook her head, “I was his sister’s best friend, Maisy.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Conor suddenly turned white, a hand dropped to brush hers, “oh Naomi, I am so sorry...I was on my honeymoon when she...”

Nodding she averted her eyes, it was still such an overtly painful thing to think about, let alone vocalise. BUt the genuine sadness and empathy tugged at her heart strings, if she ever doubted what Simon had told her, then she’d believe that Conor had nothing to do with Maisy’s demise at that open and honest reaction, “I didn’t realise you were married until Simon explained that.”

                “Divorced.” He sighed, hating that this was torturing her.   

She nodded, “I’m sorry to hear that. Anyway...” she started to explain her friendship and then in more detail his perceived role in it all. He was stunned, the uneaten burger still sat in his hands.

                “Wow!” it was the only word that came close to explaining his amazement. Such a horrendous mess. “I didn’t meet her more than a couple of brief times, I didn’t know her...”

Nodding Naomi stared up at him, “I know that now, and I’m sorry that I was so negative when you arrived, it was childish to blame you for anything really...” She sighed, “normally I’m so level headed. But she was my best friend...”

Conor was in shock, that poor girl had had some sort of crush on him, and he had a role albeit unconscious in her death. He felt guilty, responsible, tehn he thought of Simon. Shaking his head he met Naomi’s eyes, “I would’ve...” The statement ended with a sigh.

Reaching out she laid her hands on his, “I didn’t tell you this to make you feel bad, I was trying to tell you...” She sighed too, “I was using that grief to explain my despicable behaviour...and now I’ve just made you feel guilty. I am such a cow!”

                “I don’t think there’s any possible good feeling out of this. But it does mean we have a truce?” There had to be something good to come out of this, surely?

She nodded, “I think we have a clean slate.”

And she was right. They spent the next two weeks working diligently together. They found an easy symbiosis, working well as a team. This didn’t mean they didn’t have arguments, battles over decisions and topics, but Naomi found that healthy, she even enjoyed them. Neither mentioned Maisy again, though on occasion when their arguments strayed in to personal territory rather than remaining business, there was often an awkward silence as they both remembered why they’d started arguing when they first met.

But as time went on those moments of animosity and anger became a distant memory, and Naomi found it hard to be anything but nice towards him, he was charming, fair, considerate and she loved the way his chin dimpled when he smiled. She found herself sitting at her desk watching his face as he spoke animatedly to his young nephew on the phone, or his mother, a woman who phoned him most days.

Tapping her head with her hand, she stood to rifle through one of the filing cabinets. She had to shake herself out of all this doe eyed devotion, following him visually as he moved around the room. It was unhealthy and as unprofessional as hating him, she never acted like this, she didn’t do relationships, preferring her own company, and only ever relying on herself. But this man was starting to drift past her heavily erected barriers.

Each day in the office he was watching her too, but a little more discreetly, and shook his head gently as he saw her bottom lip tighten and her head flip up in annoyance at something on her computer screen. He was already recognising her moods, and was amazed at how quickly they changed. She was like the sea, calm and enticing one minute, aggressive and dangerous moments later. And he found that exciting. As assistants went, she was one of the best, whenever he was stressed, coffee appeared on his desk, her filing system made sense, she was more than efficient with everything thrown at her. Even his mother! She called most days and Naomi was always pleasant, and she remembered facts adn details from earlier conversations, in the same was she did with the clients. Soon to be divorced Mrs Owens couldn’t speak more highly off her, and the elderly Palmer couple gushed over her when they came to the office the previous week. But that was after Naomi had quizzed them in great detail over their new grandchild, and murmured appreciateively over the photos they produced.

If he could write down the attributes of the perfect assistant, the words would spell Naomi Young, and he cursed Simon’s good fortune in finding her.

Gloria was due back after the weekend, and Conor wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It would be great to have some more practical help, and it would free up Naomi to actually do more of his workload, but they’d got used to just the two of them, or rather he had. He was comfortable in the office, they worked well together, though the presence of the older woman would also mean he’d be less tempted to spend so much time gawping at her.

He was more than a little aware that he’d spent far too much time watching her, when she didn’t know he was looking.  Gloria may well diffuse the situation. He didn’t do relationships, hadn’t since Orla...and he had no intention of complicating both his work environment, and his relationship wiht his good friend. Especially after the way Maisy had reacted to him, he felt more than an obligation to do the right thing by SImon. Nope, he and Naomi were not an option, and he had to use Gloria’s reappearance to stop his straying mind and wayward thoughts.

                “I’m in court all day tomorrow Naomi, will you be able to deal with everything here?” he asked looking up when she brought him in a cup of coffee. Laughing at her indignant look, she could more than handle the office, he added, “I won’t come back before the weekend as I have a lot on. But you can message me if anything crops up, ok?”

She nodded, “sure.”

As he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his trim stomach, she tried not to look him up and down, as usual his hair was ruffled from his fingers running through it so many times in exasperation, his jaw was shadowed with stubble, but those icy blue eyes were there, observing her in that lazy, easy manner he had. He’d discarded his suit jacket a while ago and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to relieve his tanned forearms.  Naomi was absorbed in those masculine, yet shapely arms, and didn’t realise he’d spoken to her. “What was that? Sorry!”

Conor chuckled, “I said are you doing anything nice this weekend?” he was studying her intently and she felt very self conscious at the blush that had swept up her from her neck to her now hot cheeks.

She shook her head, “nothing special. I’m going to see Simon; I think he’s going insane now he’s at home. And I may catch up with some old friends. You?”

Smiling he put his hands behind his head, he loved these little chats with her, the personal things, she was evasive, he barely knew anythign about her, but he loved her reactions, blushing, giggling, it was when she was most natural. “My brother and his friends are coming over from Ireland for his stag night. He’s getting married next month.”

Her smile was infectious, “That’s nice. Are you close?”

Conor laughed, “few Irish families aren’t! I’m one of six, and I speak to all of them at least once a week! And what with my mother calling EVERY day...as you know, well. It doesn’t leave me much time for a life!”

He saw her try to smile, “that’s good that you’re close.”

                “Are you not close to your family?”

She leaned against the door frame and shrugged, “I don’t have any family, I’m an only child and my parents are dead.”

He saw her intake of breath and realised it was still a raw subject for her. “I’m sorry to hear that, I suppose I take my huge family for granted!”

                “Don’t we all? I did! Took it for granted that is...it was only ever the three of us, it wasn’t always the best, we had our fights, but when it was all gone, I missed even the cross words.”

Then she spun on her heels and left the office, furiously blinking away tears, why the hell was she always crying around Conor? It had been a difficult few months, that was why losing Maisy had come back to haunt her all over again, she’d been the surrogate family that Naomi needed, when she left she’d latched on to Simon...now he was married she had lost yet another stabilising influence. She was feeling a little threatened, and that was making her emotional, she had to keep telling herself that.

An hour or so later she was winding things up when she felt eyes on her. Looking up she saw Conor lounging against the door frame.

              “You ok?” 

She nodded, furious at her earlier lack of control, both letching over him, and then getting upset, again, “I’m fine. Just about finished. So I’ll see you Monday then?”

He looked at her for an age, he always said the wrong thing, made her sad, and all he wanted to do was take that sorrow out of her eyes, “you will. Have a nice weekend.”

Watching her leave he shook his head again. She was an enigma, filled with passion and anger, yet so much sorrow and sadness. He’d never met a woman like her!

                “I’m MORE than impressed!” Naomi laughed as Simon demonstrated his walking technique with his crutches. He was hinting at coming back into work, but Steph sat in the corner of the room rolled her eyes as a response. If it was left to his wife he wouldn’t be rushing anywhere, after all, they were still in their honeymoon period. But Naomi knew Simon was strong willed and passionate about his work. That was one battle she didn’t want to witness!

                “He’s driving me insane!”  Steph called as he escorted Naomi into the adjacent dining room. “It’s all I hear, I think he’s a bigamist, because it seems he’s married to his job as well as me.”

Naomi was still chuckling, “well he’s employed an adequate alternative. Conor does seem to be keeping on top of things.”

Simon nodded, “he’s a good man, and I’m glad you two are getting on! You won’t know yourself when you get Gloria back too.” He lowered himself on to the sofa next to her and grinned, “super efficiency will return!”

Gloria was a lovely person, but her systems for managing the office were all a bit scatty. Organised chaos was more appropriate a term. Simon and Naomi spent most of their spare time trying to decipher her crazy codes, saying that she was organised and could put her hand on any document with the shortest of notice. It was only really a problem when she wasn’t it work, and she hadn’t been the last six weeks.

                “I think you should speak to Conor about staying, taking on Martin’s role.” Stephanie turned to her husband. “I don’t want you working as much as you were before the wedding, this has made me realise that you’re not immortal Simon. And I want a long and happy marriage. Ok?”

Simon turned to her concerned face and the smile he gave was genuine and warm and for a moment Naomi felt she was intruding into a very intimate moment. “There’s no way O’Neill will stay, since he sold his part of the company in London he’s literally wandered aimlessly around. I think he likes the freedom after all those years of restraint.”

Stephanie groaned, “well Naomi, it’s your job to convince him that he needs stability, staying here is what he wants.”

Naomi choked on her coffee looking between the two through eyes filled with tears as she spluttered, finally she managed to muster, “a few weeks ago we were sworn enemies, so let’s not over anticipate, hey?”

She stayed with the couple for dinner, Stephanie was a good cook, and produced perfect steaks with jacket potatoes and salad. A feast really fit for a queen! Then headed home to an evening of DVD watching with her neighbour Sarah.

Conor had had a very hectic weekend; the stag night had descended into chaos. He was almost relieved to walk into the office on Monday. She was already there, he could tell instantly. Not the delicious smell of coffee, or the fresh flowers on her desk, or even the box from the nearest bakery perched enticingly on his desk were the clue. No it was something else, something more subtle. He just KNEW she was there, and suddenly felt relaxed at the thought.

Sinking into his chair, pulling the box towards him he peeped inside, two warm croissants, each filled with cheese and ham.

                “A woman after my own heart!” he announced looking up, sensing her near the door. She smiled as she placed a steaming mug of strong black coffee on his desk.  “You’re like an oasis in the desert!”

Naomi laughed, “I imagined you’d be feeling a bit washed out. It’s the sort of thing that peps me up when I’m run down!”

He looked at her and struggled to imagine her ever feeling as bad as he did, “have you ever had a hangover? You look too sensible!”

                “You’d be surprised! Don’t you remember me that day after...I hit you!” She blushed at the sudden memory, whereas Conor’s thoughts weren’t of her hangover, but those ridiculous skimpy pyjamas that failed to cover her curvy little body that day. A body he’d been hankering to see more of for quite a while.

By nine am Gloria had arrived, and boy did they know it! Conor hadn’t met her until she waltzed in using a wooden stick to offload her injured leg, in leopard print leggings, a black sleeveless top, and her greying hair pulled up into an extravagant top knot. He knew from her file that she was well past sixty, and the clothing, the appearance should look gaudy and over the top, but for some reason it matched her larger than life personality. By lunchtime he’d lost count of the times he’d laughed at her answering the phone, of the stories she’d retold Naomi when she thought he couldn’t hear.

She was far from efficient by his standards, but her energy and enthusiasm did seem to be contagious. He was well ahead of his schedule by lunch time. Which was just as well as he finally felt that he’d returned to the land of the living – just. So he took them both out for a business lunch, albeit reluctantly on Naomi’s part, leaving the gushing Gloria in charge.

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