“You want me to organise my paperwork and colour code the filing cabinet?”

He shakes his head. “You’re hopeless.”

“I’m realistic. Have you actually seen Jesse?”

“Seen and salivated over. Yes.”

“Well, you know how he is.” He gazes at me and I shake my head in exasperation. “He’s twenty years younger than me, as fickle as the weather, and a total walking disaster.”

He looks at me for a long second and a mysterious smile crosses his face. “One day you’re going to listen when I talk to you. And when you realise that, you’re going to apologise for thinking I talk a load of crap every day and know far too much gossip.”

“I have no idea what is happening at the moment,” I mutter.

“Just at the moment?” he says tartly and then seems to relent. “Jesse is actually a lot of things besides gorgeous. He’s also smart and, most importantly, he’s very kind.” I stare at him, and he nods. “You know he is. You said it yourself the other day. Half the messes he ends up in are because he cares about people and he goes two steps further than anyone else to help them. He’s never met a stranger, he’s sociable, and genuinely interested in people. He’s like a throwback to olden times. He should be in Miss Marple.”

“Hopefully not as a dead body,” I grumble. “But he’d be in the midst of it if he was. He’s flippant and like a fucking butterfly.”

“He’s funny and he has a conscience,” he corrects me. “I’m sure you already know this, but it’s easier for you to pretend in your head that he’s stupid.”

“Why is it easier?”

He settles back in his chair and eyes me like I’m appearing before him in court. “Because you fancy him,” he says calmly.

“I fucking do not,” I start to splutter, and he holds up his hand. To my chagrin I immediately stop talking.

“You do, Zeb. You always have. Right from the first moment you met him I saw the sparks, and you’ve always been so protective of him.” He stands up. “I saw other things too.”

“What?” I say reluctantly.

“He fancies you too.” I close my mouth with an audible snap, and he smiles. “That’s me done.”

“I feel like getting on my knees and offering thanks.”

“Try getting on your knees and offering the gorgeous Jesse a nice blowjob.”

“Oh my God, I’m old enough to be his father.”

“He’s twenty-four, not a teenager, and what you don’t know about him would fill a football stadium.”

I stare at him. “And just what does that mean?”

“It means you should seriously consider doing him.”

“Doing him. What a delightful turn of phrase you have. Have you gone through any workplace training? He’s my employee, in case you’ve forgotten.”