Well, I don’t find her remotely funny, but his short, abrupt answer makes me think twice about pushing it. Damn, I want him to finish what he started.
I’m lifted from the desk and placed me on my feet. Pulling the cups of my bra back over my breasts, he starts to button up my shirt and peel the leathers down my legs. I’m going to look like a crumpled mess. He fetches my bag from the floor, putting my pumps at my feet for me to step into. I start tucking my shirt in, trying to make myself more presentable, and watch as Jesse takes a seat in his huge, brown leather, swivel chair. He’s gone quiet. Resting his elbows on the arms and letting his fingertips meet in front of his lips, he watches me thoughtfully as I finish sorting myself out.
‘What?’ I ask. He looks deep in thought. What’s he thinking about?
‘Nothing. Are you hungry?’
I shrug. ‘-ish,’
A smile tickles the corner of his mouth. ‘-ish.’ he counters. ‘The steak’s good. Do you want that?’ I nod. Yes, I could eat a little steak. He picks up his office phone and dials a few numbers. ‘Ava would like the steak,’ He puts the phone to his shoulder. ‘How do you like your steak?’
‘Medium, please,’
He returns to the phone. ‘Medium, with new potatoes and a salad.’ He looks at me with raised eyebrows. I nod again. ‘In my office…and bring some wine…Zinfandel. That’s all…yes…thank you.’ He hangs up and dials again. ‘John…yes…I’m ready when you are.’ He hangs up before picking up again. ‘Sarah…fine, don’t worry. Bring me the latest attendance figures.’ He puts the phone down again. ‘Sit.’ He points at the sofa in the window.
Okay, I’m getting that uncomfortable feeling again, my small appetite fading fast. Damn it, I hate coming here. ‘I can go if you’re busy.’
He frowns, throwing me a questioning look. ‘No, sit.’
I take myself over to the sofa to settle myself in the soft, brown leather. I feel like a spare part, uncomfortable and awkward. With little else to do, I watch as Jesse flicks through various piles of paperwork, signing here and there. He’s completely engrossed in what he’s doing. He glances up every now and then, lobbing me a reassuring smile, but it does little to ease my discomfort. I want to go.
After twenty minutes, or so, of twiddling my thumbs and wishing he would hurry up, the door knocks and Jesse calls an okay for whoever it is to enter. Pete walks in with a tray and follows Jesse’s pointed pen over to me.
‘Thank you, Pete.’ I smile as Pete places the tray down in front of me and hands me some cutlery wrapped in a white, material napkin.
‘My pleasure, can I open your wine?’
‘No,’ I shake my head. ‘I’ve got it.’
He nods before leaving the room quietly.
I remove the lid from the plate and a delicious smell invades my nostrils, dragging my appetite back. Unwrapping my knife and folk, I stab at my separate bowl of salad, the most colourful I’ve ever seen – peppers of every colour, red onion and a dozen varieties of lettuce leaf, all drenched in infused oil. I could eat this alone. It’s wonderful.
Crossing my legs, I place the tray on my lap and slice into the steak, humming a satisfied moan around my fork. The Manor does food very well.
‘Good?’
I feel Jesse’s chin resting on my shoulder. ‘Very,’ I mumble around my steak. ‘You want to try?’
He nods, opening his mouth. I slice a piece of steak and hold it over my shoulder for him to take. ‘Hmmm, very good.’ he says around his chew.
‘More?’ I ask. His eyes widen in appreciation, so I cut him another piece, passing it over my shoulder again. He watches me as he wraps his full lips around my fork and slowly pulls the steak off. I can’t help the big smile that breaks out across my face. His eyes sparkle with pleasure and he struggles to prevent his own smile as he chews. He clamps his hands on my shoulders and buries his face in my neck from behind.