Until she fell in the pond, I hadn’t seen her all day. I had caught up with Ellie, hearing about the meetings, the way she was getting stuck into the publishing schedule, wanting to know all the details about the upcoming books.

I thought she’d come and find me. She was sure to want to know more about Marty Berghaus and his elusive manuscript. But she never appeared by my desk.

I figured I’d catch her tomorrow. Wednesday was another day. Tuesday was always park day. It was the day of the week I went to sit for a while in the park facing the river, the place my parents used to bring me when I was little. “You own this,” they would tell me. I used to think every boy owned a park. I saw it as like Kirren Island in The Famous Five, who doesn’t own an island or a park? I used to imagine the river ran around all four sides, that I was in my own Kingdom, climbing the trees to fight off imaginary smugglers, sometimes pirates. That was where my interest in books first came from, sitting on that bench facing the river and reading to my heart’s content while my parents bickered nearby in voices not quiet enough to be private.

I would lose myself in books, voraciously working my way through Blyton and then Lewis before graduating to Dickens, first editions quietly sneaked out from my father’s library. He never read them, I reasoned, why shouldn’t I? He'd bought them as 'investments,' I hated that. Books were meant to be read.

I was a few years older before I started to realise it wasn’t that common to own first editions, or parks. I owned a park in the middle of one of the most expensive cities in the world. I’d been offered a fortune to sell the land several times. It was worth millions if I let some developer put tower blocks on it. I would never sell though. Not for all the money in the world. The place meant too much to me. The bench I sat on was where my father had realised I was out with books worth more to him than I was. I could still remember the fury in his eyes, the way I’d refused to be cowed by him anymore.

This was where I’d taken my first step to becoming a man. I’d stood up to him, told myself I wouldn’t take shit from anyone ever again. I’d stood by that vow ever since.

This was where we’d come to scatter his ashes, letting them cascade over the railings and down into the river.

This was where I’d come to think after the market crash, to reassess the businesses, to work out what the hell to do next. It was my private spot and I would never sell it. Nor would I lock the gates when I left like my father used to. I wanted other people to be able to visit too, to enjoy the peace away from the tumult of the city as much as I did.

My peace that evening was rudely shattered by the sound of a scream. I shot to my feet and ran towards the source of the noise, hearing a splash and realising what had happened before I saw.

Someone had fallen in the pond. How had they done that? I got there and knew at once. There was a muddy streak on the hillside where they’d slid down and in and who was it in there?

“Need a hand,” I said, seeing Lucy coated in mud, her clothes clinging to her.

I was hard almost at once. She was too busy trying not to freeze to notice but her jacket was open, her blouse stuck to her curves, the outline of her bra visible as she petulantly refused to accept my assistance.

She slipped and grumbled and sulked for a minute before I had enough. I needed to take charge.

I grabbed her and hauled her upright, heading out of the park and over the road to the clothes boutique on the far side. I pushed open the door, pulling her in and looking at her properly. Her head wasn’t wet but the rest of her was soaked. She was still dripping water onto the carpet, her lips almost blue. She stood looking back at me, her arms folding across her chest, her whole body shaking.

“What size are you, a fourteen?”

She nodded slowly, as if she was struggling to think properly. I turned away, grabbing clothes off the racks. I found a full outfit for her. Blouse, vintage cardigan, long skirt. “What shoe size?”

She stuttered her answer so much, I struggled to decipher but finally I was able to understand and with that knowledge, I found a decent pair of black Mary Janes.

I held them out towards her. “Put these on,” I said.

“I can’t afford them,” she replied, shaking her head. “They’re too expensive.”

“Don’t worry about that. Worry about not freezing to death.”

She still refused. “I should just go home and change.”

“You really are stubborn, aren’t you? Don’t you like them?”

She glanced at the clothes draped over my arm. “I love them but I can’t afford them.”

“I didn’t ask if you could afford them.”

A figure appeared from behind the coat rack in the corner. “Can I help you at all?”

“Just give us five minutes,” I replied.

“Where’s he going?” Lucy asked, watching him head out of the front door.

Once he was gone, I flicked the sign to closed and locked it before saying, “Get undressed.”

I said it in my firmest voice. She looked up at me as if seeing me for the first time. She looked the way all the subs did before the training began. She looked afraid but also excited.

“Turn around,” she replied, a note of pleading to her voice. I did as she asked, listening as she walked into the changing room and pulled the curtain closed. I could hear her begin to undress behind the curtain. I could feel my cock stiffening in response, trying to whisper to me. You’re alone in the shop together with her. She’s locked in. No one knows she’s here. She’s almost naked. She’s weak, she’s vulnerable. You could do anything to her. You could grab her and fuck her right now.

I knew the thought was correct but I wasn’t going to give in to it. This wasn’t the right place. It wasn’t the right time. I needed her to give herself willingly to me. It had to be that way if it was going to work.

“Are you all right?” I asked after hearing nothing but breathing for more than a couple of minutes.

“Can you help?” she replied in a quiet voice, as if she was ashamed of herself for even asking.

I pulled open the curtain to find her fumbling with her buttons of her blouse, her cold fingers clearly too numb to work them loose.

I walked over slowly, stopping in front of her. “Keep still,” I said, undoing the top button. I tried not to stare at her cleavage as it came into view but I couldn’t help it. Each button that came away revealed more of her chest until the shirt was finally open. Her bra was black, lacy, and through it I could see the hardness of her nipples, the swell of her breasts making me want to cup, to caress, to roughly grope, to bite, suck, lick, all the things I had told myself it wasn’t time for yet.

“Thank you,” she said, peeling off the shirt and placing it neatly on top of her jacket on the nearby chair. “What are you doing?”

I was already kneeling down, undoing the zip at the top of her skirt. “You’re welcome to do it yourself,” I said.

“I can't,” she admitted. “My hands are too cold.”

I slid the zip down, her skirt slackening around her hips. With a tug, I started to lower it.

“I can handle it now,” she said.

“I know,” I replied, continuing to slide it down to the floor. “Step up.”

She lifted one leg and then the other. I put the skirt to one side, reaching up to her tights and peeling them slowly down, listening to her breathing change. I stared at her panties. They were soaked, her skin visible through them. My cock throbbed painfully at the sight.

“Up,” I said. She leaned on my back as I pulled the tights from one foot and then the other. “Keep still,” I said, standing and walking behind her.

I took a look down at the curve of her ass, wanting her more than ever. Then I unhooked her bra with a single swift motion.

She gasped, grabbing hold of it, pressing it to her chest. She turned to face me, keeping her arms in place. She was still shivering, looking innocent, ready to be told what to do next.

I opened my mouth to say something when my phone rang. Cursing my luck, I said, “One second,” before pulling it out.

It was Malcolm. He never rang unless it was important.

“I can do the rest,” she replied, her free hand grabbing the clothes I’d chosen and pulling the curtain closed once again.

“What is it?” I asked as I answered the phone, trying to ignore the whispering voice telling me not to let her dress, to fuck her there and then.

“I did some digging and you’re not going to like it.”

“Go on.”

Sandra and Marty have had a history since before the first book.”

“Have they? She kept that quiet.”

“It looks like they planned this together all along. Not only that but it’s not the first time she’s done it. I’ve been running through some of the previous contracts and she’s been creaming a percentage off an awful lot of them.”

“But you sign off on the contracts before they go out.”

“She found a loophole.”

“Where?”

“We signed off on them. She changed the terms, then sent them to book keeping. They acted on what was in front of them.”

“So she altered the terms?”

“It looks that way. Listen, can you come in and go through them with us?”

“Not in the office,” I replied, lowering my voice so Lucy wouldn’t hear. “We don’t know who she’s still connected to.”

“Where then?”

“Have you still got that office on Bridge Street?”

“Yep, it’s empty though until the new team get trained up.”

“Perfect. Meet me there tomorrow morning.”

“It might take a few days to go through everything, just so you know.”

“I don’t care how long it takes as long as we get the Marty Berghaus contract sorted first. We can’t afford him to bleed us dry over this.”

“I’ll bring the paperwork. You bring the pizza menus. It’s been a while since we had an all nighter.”

“See you tomorrow, Malcolm.” I hung up before calling out to Lucy,” How’re you doing in there?”

She pulled the curtain open a second later. “All right now I can do buttons up again,” she said, smiling as she stepped out. “How do I look?”

I looked her up and down. “Stunning.”

“Even with mud covered hands?”

“Even with mud covered hands.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to pay for this lot though.”

“Leave that to me.”

“You can’t be-”

I nodded just as I heard a knock on the door. I looked, then headed over and unlocked it.

“All done?” David asked.

“Yes, thanks. Put those on my account, would you?”

“Of course,” he replied, catching my look and understanding.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Lucy said in the doorway.

“Let me have a few days away from the office before the conference?” I replied.

“Is that why you did this? To butter me up?”

“No, I did it to stop you freezing. You’re lucky my favourite clothes shop is so near the park.”

“Thank you,” she said, a warm look on her face. For a moment neither of us said anything.

“I’ll see you Friday at the hotel,” I said, breaking the silence at last. “Should be fun.”

“Long drive though, right?”

“I’m getting the train up there.”

She smiled. “Well enjoy being crammed in. I’m being driven.”

“Are you indeed?”

“In the company car no less.”

I know, I thought. I laid on the car for her. That was why I was taking the train. “Do you want a lift home?” I asked. “If my car’s not blocked in of course.”

“I’m good,” she replied, brushing down the front of the cardigan. “See you Friday.”

She was gone a second later. I watched her walk away before turning and heading back inside. “Thank you for that, David,” I said. “I appreciate you not giving the game away.”

“Maybe give me a raise in return?” he said before laughing. “No worries, boss. New sub?”

“Maybe,” I said with a smile. “We shall see.”