From the boardroom, Gregory took me straght to a little grey cubicle wedged between a water filter and a large potted plant. It paled in comparison to the opulence of the executive suite upstairs, but I felt a deep thrill as I ran my hand over the smooth melamine of the desk.

I’d never done particularly well at school. Jobs in office buildings were for the kids who did advanced maths. Now I had my very own patch of professional real estate! I swivelled giddily in the chair before I caught Gregory’s eye.

“Ahem.” I planted my feet on the carpet and sat up straight. Too late, I’d seen his amused gleam.

“Here’s the company handbook,” he handed me a thick-ish booklet. My heart sank a little as I felt its weight. “There’s also some instructional videos on the intranet.”

“Right, thanks.” I knew which option I’d be taking.

“Come and meet your colleagues.” he turned, and a small flock of suits gathered around me.

“Nice to meet you,” A woman with a blond bob and bright red lips gave me a smile, “I’m Beryllia. I look after transport logistics.”

“Colin, tenement contract manager.”

“My name’s Pippa. I’m the training coordinator.”

My brain began to reel. Gregory glanced over and took pity on me.

“We’d better get to this meeting, Braith.” He took my elbow and began to steer me towards the elevator.

Before I had time to ask, we were on our way down. “Phew. They’ll look after you, I’m sure. You’re cute.”

“Er, does that count?” I deflated. Despite Owen’s interest, I knew I wasn’t a star candidate. But was cuteness all I had?

“Sure it does. Let me show you the apartment.”

It turned out ‘Relocation allowance’ had been quite the understatement.

From the glass-rimmed balcony, Sydney harbour spread out before me in a glittering expanse. The afternoon sun had begun to turn golden, and in other circumstances I might have snapped a couple of selfies to send to Shelby. Instead, I gripped the railing and counted backwards from a hundred.

Everything about Tenecore was extreme. Extremely shiny, extremely smooth. Extremely high.

Gregory grinned at me from the cream leather sofa, phone clamped to his ear. Something must have come up at work. I tried to smile back, and edged my way back into the apartment.

“Okay, boss.”

The only ‘boss’ Gregory had was Owen, and my ears pricked up. Too late, he ended the call as soon as I entered and stood up.

“The gym’s on level nineteen. So’s the pool. If you want to drive, there’s a spot reserved in basement one.”

Betsy would have looked out of place here, even with her bumper intact. I shook my head. “I don’t want to drive.”

“Understandable, after the accident. There’s always the driver service.”

“Uh, thanks.”

He glanced down at his phone and sighed. “Back to work for me. You can spend some time unpacking, tomorrow we’ll go through some work stuff.” He waved a hand as though it was nothing special.

I swallowed, resolving to watch all the staff videos as soon as possible. My higher school certificate wasn’t going to cut it among those Logistics-Training-Management-Coordinators I’d met at the office.

He left, and I found the bedroom.

It must be the bedroom, because squash courts don't come with a king-sized mattress. Cool white linen was complemented with blond wood furniture. An enormous, sculptural chandelier made of milky white glass dominated the ceiling. Calming abstract paintings hung in shades of olive and mauve.

I held my breath for a minute, then let out a squeal. This was definitely worth a Shelby-selfie!

***

By the end of the week I’d found a groove. So far, my work consisted of learning about mining – and since I’d spent my first few adult years hawking opals to tourists, I felt at least a bit capable. The ergonomic desk chair was comfortable and the office snacks were plentiful. It was time to add in a morning jog.

The city air was cool, if not exactly fresh, and as I ran through the Botanic Gardens I began to feel the endorphins flow. My breathing was steady, my feet hit a satisfying rhythm, and the parade of toned, tanned joggers kept me decently entertained. By the time I arrived back at the apartment, my cheeks were warm and my mind filled with taut bods in running shorts. City living!

I hopped out of the lift, happily pondering which of the crisp new shirts I would pull the tags off today. Maybe the mint green? 

Ahead of me, an apartment door opened. The sweat under my running shirt turned cold. 

Dressed in a dark suit with light trench coat slung over his forearm, Owen Varanor pulled the door closed behind him and looked in my direction.

He paused for a tiny moment, and then walked towards me.

“Good morning.” his eyes flicked between my slicked back hair and the dark triangle of sweat on my top. I nodded dumbly. Then he walked past me, and his shoulder almost brushed mine. 

I zombie walked into my apartment and stripped off my sweaty clothes. After a few minutes under the hot shower, I came to my senses.

Of course he lived in the building. Tenecore owned my apartment, it made sense if they owned another.

Maybe it was his second home. An inner-city bolthole that he used when he didn’t go to his undoubtedly luxurious suburban mansion. For... whatever reason. Under the shower, I blushed. He’d been alone this morning, but he’d done a tiny double take when we’d met. Guilty conscience at work?

I turned off the shower and shook the droplets from my hair. If only I could shake the thoughts away so easily. What my boss did in his own time, and with whom, was nothing to me. Whether he was single, married, had a girlfriend or boyfriend, it was none of my goddamn business.