She leaned forward, placing her hands on my desk, to peer at the computer screen. The light aroma of her perfume was tantalizingly sweet. She studied ...y computer screen as I studied the opening gap of her button-down shirt, looking straight at her breasts tucked neatly away in her white lace brassiere.She placed her hand on my mouse, and I watched as she highlighted a square on the spreadsheet and then she asked me to type in a formula. I typed what she instructed and then she clicked on the. . ?”“He’ll know who I am right enough, ma’am, just tell him, Sierra.”“All right, Sierra, I will. Now, how can he reach you? Does he have your, er, cell number?”“Maybe, I guess ... damn no, he probably don’t, it’s kinda newish. Anyways, it’s switched off at the moment.”‘A runaway?’ Abi thought. ‘Turning her phone off so her mother couldn’t speak to her, or even trace her, maybe? She’s American, so she’s clearly not a fan of our UK-domestic-only show. Definitely not here for me or she’d’ve. More

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