Never Letting Go

Chapter 2

My working day is just as I expected it to be and as it always is: research, phone calls, a few standard meetings, and paperwork. With a few unannounced interruptions from Eric trying to come up with the reason behind the mysterious plane turning up at Heathrow and who it belongs to added in. It's safe to say, up to this point, he's not gotten any of his theories right.

Other than that, my day hasn't been too stressful. When you're in an office it' not too stressful – or so I think anyway. You've just got to be on the ball all the time and to expect the unexpected. Anything can go wrong and having a backup plan to be on the safe side is always a good thing which is what I had to do today. Having a caterer call you and say they can no longer do your event is never a good thing when the event is only a week away.

When the clock struck half-past five this afternoon, I was more than happy to finish work for the day.

The sun is still beating down from the sky above as I exit the building followed close by Eric who has the newspaper from this morning under his arm. I place my blazer over my forearm and shake my head at Eric.

"Are you still obsessing over that photo?" I laugh as he struggles to put his cordless headphones on over his ears.

"I'm determined to find out who it is and I will find out who it is." He fusses about for a few more minutes with his headphones and when they're finally sitting right on his ears, he gives me a thumbs up. "Got it."

"So you do," I nod in agreement.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Kaylee." He shouts before walking off and pulling the newspaper from under his arm to read once more.

I shake my head as I try to contain my laughter. He's had his head in that newspaper all day and not knowing who the mystery person is that's come here is bugging him. For someone who spent his entire lunchtime on social media looking for clues, I can only take a guess that that is what his night is going to consist of tonight.

I'm not standing by the office building for long before the sight of Allison's blue Renault Clio comes down the one-way street. Even if it wasn't a bright shade of blue, I could still recognise her car from the loud music blaring out of it on the street.

She pulls up into a space in front of me and I get in the car. The music goes down to a moderate level; I no longer have Martin Garrix Don't Look Down ringing in my ears.

"Hello, Miss." Allison greets with a smile. She looks over her right shoulder and pulls back out of the space.

The car gains speed once more as we go along the remainder of Grosvenor Street, passing Grosvenor Square Garden on our right, and come to a stop at the traffic lights when we get to the end of the road at a set of traffic lights. Allison indicates to go left and when the lights turn to green, we turn to the left onto Park Lane.

"How was work today?"

I shake my head. "Don't even go there."

"That bad, huh?"

"It wasn't bad," I admit. "Just a stupid day." I rub my head with my hand. "Did you hear about this plane thing everyone seems to be talking about?"

"I did," she nods. "I was reading about it during my break this morning."

"And?"

"And I don't really know why everyone is making a big deal out of it. So someone with money has turned up and brought their plane with them – big deal. A lot of celebs do that and it's not a big deal. Other people with money do it and again, it's not a big deal."